Any response evaporated in a searing burst as she firmed her grip and moved her hand up and down. Every muscle cramped with sensation. A drop of pearly liquid leaked onto the tip. He gritted his teeth and told himself he wouldn’t spill into her hand.
A strange expression crossed Sidonie’s face.
Please don’t let it be revulsion.
Before Jonas could muster protest or plea, she bent and deliberately licked away the evidence of excitement. The abrasion of her tongue made him clench his hands. Much more and he’d incinerate the damned cords. Then at least he’d be free to show her what he wanted.
She raised her head. His heart slammed against his chest as her slender throat moved. He sucked in a ragged breath. She had him in such a fever, he kept forgetting to breathe. He knew it would never happen, not with a woman like Sidonie, but the prospect of flooding her mouth with his seed then watching her swallow made him insane with yearning. Time slowed. Through narrowed eyes, he watched her lower her head.
If she stopped, she’d kill him.
Surely she’d stop.
He bit back a long groan as she took him deeper. His sight faded to black.
Her shyness melted away. Instead there was hot, wet suction as she drew hard. In his wildest dreams, he’d never imagined she’d do this. Not of her free will. She was a little clumsy. Strangely her lack of familiarity with the act reinforced pleasure. And touched his heart, much as he cursed his heart’s involvement.
She bobbed her head until she took most of him. He groaned again and his hips surged. “Sidonie, bella…”
She increased the pressure and he squeezed his eyes shut, battling to hold back. Devil take these ties. He couldn’t roll her onto her back and plunge into her as he longed to do. Not that he’d last more than a few seconds.
“Sidonie, stop.” His voice sounded raw.
Slowly she lifted her mouth, the slide excruciating. Hell, she’d have him whimpering like a baby.
“I want to keep going.” Her voice was deep and husky as he’d never heard it. The woman who licked her lips savoring his taste knew she possessed him.
Of course she did.
“I want to be inside you.” Faint vestiges of the man he’d once been winced to hear him beg. “Untie me.”
“Oh, no.” Her smile was provoking. Where had she learned to smile like that? The woman who arrived at his castle wouldn’t smile like that. She’d been a furled rosebud, fragrant with potential. This Sidonie was a full-blown flower, sweet-scented and luscious. “Not now I have you where I want.”
“Have pity, anima mia.” He’d never called her that before, although it was true. She was his soul. When she left tomorrow, she’d carry his soul with her. God help him.
Straddling him, she hovered over where he needed her. She hitched her skirts around her hips, giving him a breathtaking glimpse of dark curls hiding her sex. The knowledge of what she was about to do–surely she meant to ride him, although it was a position she hadn’t yet tried—crashed through him like an ax. All moisture dried from his mouth. His head swam.
No wonder. Every drop of blood had rushed to his cock.
Her musky scent goaded him. Although he hadn’t touched her, she was aroused. She placed one hand on his chest then slowly, o
h, so slowly, lowered her hips, using her other hand to guide him into her body. Delicately she took the tip and he groaned long and hard when she stopped there. He waited for her to cover him. Instead she rose, her sleek cleft teasing the swollen head.
The witch had teased him all night. He couldn’t endure much more. She was inhuman. He feared he was far too human. The humiliating likelihood of losing himself on the sheets loomed.
“Sidonie.” Her name was a strangled protest. He writhed against his bonds, clumsily lifting his hips. He was past finesse. Good God, he was past thought. Perhaps it was a good thing that she still wore the red dress. If she was naked, he’d have lost his mind hours ago.
Still she held herself apart, the wicked girl. Once, twice, he lurched upward and each time she poised far enough away for him to feel her heat. She laughed, a low sound of excitement. Her eyes were opaque and dilated. These games had an incendiary effect on her, too.
“Damn you, Sidonie,” he choked out. “You’re enjoying this.”
“Oh, yes.” She dropped perilously close.
This time she luxuriantly moved her hips, bathing him in liquid heat. Over his galloping heart, he heard her whimper. Her hand curled in his chest hair. Her grip tightened and she sank over him more fully. In shaking suspense, he waited for her to pull away.
On a deep breath, she slid down. A long keening sound of pleasure escaped her.
“Jove and all his angels,” he grated as glorious warmth enclosed him.