“Nay.” He groaned. “I will no’ bend in this.”
Damn it! She wanted to scream with frustration. She’d used up all her best tricks and he hadn’t broken. “Tell me who I was. I need you, Cadan.”
He jerked his head.
She made a wordless noise of frustration. She’d never been so turned on before, and literally, right between her legs, was the sexiest man she’d ever seen and she couldn’t do a thing about it. She hadn’t expected this night to be as torturous for her as it was for him.
She glared down at him. “Damn you, Cadan.”
She’d have to regroup and rethink, and to do so, she’d have to take care of some of this dreadful desire.
Every inch of Cadan’s body ached with lust, his cock a rod of agony and pleasure. Diana’s body rose above him, her pale skin shining in the candlelight. Her honey red hair was wild around her head, her lips swollen from kisses and her eyes heavy with lust. She was like nothing he’d ever seen. A pagan goddess intent on pleasure, her only thought to achieve her ends by any means necessary.
He’d never felt such desire before; it was almost pain. He strained against the bonds, desperate to reach her, to feel her skin on his again.
He wanted to sink into her soft flesh. To hold her hips and pound into her until he felt her pussy clenching around his shaft. He wanted to tie her up and kiss her and lick her until she came on his tongue over and over and she begged him to stop.
Thoughts of duty slipped further from his mind, and when she drifted a hand between her legs, he had to bite his tongue to keep from asking her to let him have a taste. She began to rub slow circles on the glistening pink flesh. What he wouldn’t give to have his mouth there.
She circled her fingers faster, her breath coming more quickly as her breasts rose and fell. He glanced at her face, the look of pained concentration indicating that she was close. Gods, she was going to make herself come right above him so that he could watch every expression on her face, every motion of her hand.
“Put two fingers inside yourself.” Do it. So that I can imagine it’s me.
She obeyed, slipping two fingers inside her pussy. She reached down with her other hand to rub her clitoris. He looked up at her face to find her watching him, eyes locked on his.
“Pretend they’re me.”
At his words, she gasped and her head dropped back. Diana collapsed on top of him, still sitting upright but no longer on her knees. Her fingers began moving faster on her clit. Her back arched and she clenched her shaking thighs around his chest as her orgasm hit. She was silent as she came, as though consumed in a vacuum of pleasure that allowed for nothing but feeling.
“I will fuck you one day, Diana, so hard that this orgasm will feel like nothing in comparison. I will make you come so long and so hard that you won’t remember any that came before me.”
She cried out then, quietly as another orgasm wracked her body and she arched above him in the candlelight, the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
Finally, she collapsed on top of him, resting her head against his chest. She hummed happily, but when she began to toy with the chain about his neck, he stiffened.
“I’m not finished with you yet,” she said as she ran the chain between her fingers. “What’s this?”
Her words made his heart stutter. He couldn’t see her face, but he knew she was inspecting the key he kept strung on the chain.
“I didn’t realize there was anything on this chain,” she said. “It slipped behind your neck.”
“It’s nothing.”
She leaned up and searched his eyes. “It’s not nothing. Why would you wear something that is nothing?”
“Because I like it.” But he could hear the half-truth in his voice.
And so could she.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Diana stumbled down the hallway to her room several hours later. She was exhausted and sweaty and sore and it had been the best night of her life.
But he hadn’t said a word about her past. Damn, he was determined. She sighed and stared at the key in her hand. He’d acted nonchalant as she’d unclasped the chain, but his eyes had told a different story. This key wasn’t nothing.
He might not have talked, but her seduction hadn’t been useless. She now had a key that might lead to clues. And an angry, painfully aroused male tied up across the hall. That part made her nervous. She’d have to free him eventually, but he was royally pissed off now so it would be best to wait.
She forced him out of her mind and stared hard at the key, willing it to reveal its secrets. Considering that signs pointed to his being the man from her dreams, it could be important to her. But what did it fit? The doors in the house didn’t have locks. A chest or armoire, perhaps?