Necromancist (Seven Forbidden Arts 6) - Page 104

“Just finding courage.”

He took her in from top to bottom, his expression unreadable. “You’re not wearing your glasses.”

“Contacts.”

“Pity.” He gave her a lustful smile. “I find those glasses extremely sexy.”

“We need to go.”

She tried to scoot past him, but they got stuck face to face between the rails of the narrow bridge. Her breasts pressed against his chest. His hard-on grew like a steel rod against her stomach. When she tried to move to the side, he planted his hands on the rail on either side of her body, trapping her between his arms.

Lowering his head, he whispered in her ear, “Are you teasing me, Miss Jones?”

Every hair on her body stood erect. “Absolutely not.”

“My dick seems to thinks so.”

“Stop playing games. This isn’t the time.”

He checked his watch. “We have twenty-five minutes and seventeen seconds.”

Her mouth opened in protest but his lips were already on hers, soft and soothing, sucking and nipping. The kiss was exquisite. Too soon, it came to an end. He traced her bottom lip one last time with his tongue before kissing a path down her throat. His hands joined the exploration, quickly finding her breasts. She arched toward him when he rolled a nipple between his fingers. Groaning his approval, he bent his knees to align his hard-on with her sex.

Reality returned.

She pushed on his shoulders. “We shouldn’t.”

He drew back a little, just enough to look her in the eyes. “I want to do unimaginably lustful things to you, and I’m not going to ask for your permission.”

His expression was so serious and his words so measured, she didn’t doubt them for a second. She suppressed a shriek when he spun her around to face the stage and pushed her upper body over the rail. He lowered his chest over her back, enveloping her with his size and the intensity of his energy.

His breath was warm on her neck. “If you scream, they’ll see us.”

Below, the orchestra had stopped playing. The curtains had dropped. The crew were running around, reorganizing the stage and bringing in the new décor. Ivan lifted the panels of her dress. He rubbed his hands up her legs and over her hips. A tear sounded as he ripped off her underwear. She gasped as the red silk hit the floor. He touched her clit, massaging in circles, but she was too terrified of being spotted to get wet. His touch disappeared. His zipper made a scratchy sound as he pulled it down. The head of his cock nudged her entrance. With her dress hitched up over her hips, her body was on display for anyone who’d happen to look up.

She glanced over her shoulder at him, her heart thumping. He was sucking his fingers, wetting them. He slipped a hand between her legs and pushed a finger gently inside. A few shallow pumps was enough to make her wet. The friction grew more pleasurable with every thrust. Then his finger was gone, and the crest of his cock parted her folds.

She bit her lip, trying to hold back a moan as he pushed in deep. He held still for a second before rotating his hips. When her inner muscles relaxed, he thrust in all earnest, taking her with a fast and hard rhythm.

The cry that escaped her lips was a little too loud, but she couldn’t help it. Ivan was fucking the very air from her lungs, leaving her no choice but to pull in ragged breaths. He clamped one hand over her mouth, muffling her sounds as he increased his pace. His other hand settled on the nape of her neck, bending her lower, which made his penetration feel deeper.

He pivoted his hips faster, making her need climb higher. Her inner muscles clenched around him as pleasure coursed through her lower body.

Bending down, he pressed heated words against her ear. “Come for me. Now.”

Her release was short but fierce. Ivan grunted softly, his body jerking behind her. He emptied himself inside her before catching her sagging body. Her hair fell around her face. It was a good thing she wasn’t wearing her glasses, or they’d be on the stage floor, right now. He carefully lifted his hand from her mouth, letting her drag in some much-needed air. Holding her to him with one arm, he fixed her dress. A soft kiss on her nape made her shiver. He turned her around, picked her up in his arms, and started for the stairs.

Too shattered to manage more, she laid her head on his shoulder as he carried her past the curious stares of the technicians in the corridor to her own dressing room. He deposited her on her feet and brushed her hair from her face.

His laugh sounded tired, but happy. “We better fix you up.” He checked his watch. “We have five minutes.”

Tags: Charmaine Pauls Seven Forbidden Arts Fantasy
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