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RUSALKA
Belladonna takes to desire as if she were one of mine—born to it. She kisses me eagerly, her body already rising to meet mine. I slowly ease the kiss, pause to nip her bottom lip, and raise my head. “I have a question, and I want you to answer it honestly.”
She blinks. “Okay.”
“I’m going to spend the night worshipping your body with my mouth and fingers.” My hands actually shake where I grip her hip. I don’t try to fight the response. She deserves to know exactly how intensely she affects me.
“That . . . wasn’t a question.”
I laugh softly. “No, it wasn’t. And it’s actually two questions.” I slide my thigh between hers. “Are you going to be a good girl and take your pleasure... or do I have to tie you down?”
Her eyes get wide. Her mouth works, but no sound comes out. I wait, giving her time to process... but not too much time. Thankfully, she manages to win whatever internal battle my words brought forth within a few beats. “Tie me down.” The words come out in a rush. “Tie me down so I can’t stop you.”
I shake my head. “You can stop me, with a single word.” I enjoy games of protest when the mood strikes, but games have rules that must be abided by, and there’s no way we’re going there the first time I have her properly in her bed. Not when we haven’t had a clearheaded negotiation ahead of time. “If you want to pretend I’m forcing you, that’s something we can discuss—another night.”
Belladonna sucks in a breath. “I don’t...” She shakes her head. “I don’t think I want that. That’s not what I meant.” I wait as she shifts beneath me, obviously uncomfortable with this frank discussion, but I’m not about to let her off the hook. Finally, she closes her eyes. “I meant that, even now, their voices are in the back of my mind, screaming that this is a sin. You tying me down isn’t forcing me to do anything, and I don’t want it to be. But it sounds like peace, and I want that.”
That, I understand. Zhenya loves bondage. It’s the only time ze calms down and goes all sleepy in a sexy sort of way. Still, I want to negotiate this carefully. No normal ropes will do for Belladonna. Not tonight. “If you like this, we’ll try something more challenging to get out of another time. Put your hands over your head.”
Belladonna tenses as if she’ll argue with me, but she finally obeys, sliding her arms over her head. Her fingertips barely brush the headboard. I concentrate, drawing my fire and arranging it around her wrists. She gasps, and I glance down at her face. “Does it hurt?”
“No.” She wiggles her fingers. “No, it’s just warm pressure. It feels good.”
Perfect. “You can break this binding easily. Lift your hands.”
She obeys, hissing out a breath when her wrists easily slide through the flames. Not bondage, not properly, but a mindfuck that I think we’re both going to get off on. I slide my hands over her arms, urging them back into place. “You’re not really being held down. But you’re not going to break these bonds, are you, little one? You’re going to be good and obedient and accept the pleasure I give you.”
“Y-yes.” She licks her lips and squirms. “You said two questions.”
Eager little thing. I love it. “I did, didn’t I?” I form more flames around my fingers. “I said I would please you with my tongue and fingers, but I have an additional way if you’re interested and willing.”
“Yes.”
That draws a light laugh from me. “I haven’t even told you what it is.”
“It’s you. Everything you do feels good to me.” She holds my gaze. “Yes, Rusalka.”
Her trust humbles me in a way that makes my throat threaten to close. I could press forward with these negotiations, but she’s just as impatient as I am to move forward. I shift back to kneel between her thighs. The robe is oversized and only offers little slices of skin to entice—the grace of her wrists, the soft curve of the top of one breast, her pretty knees.
Knees. I truly am gone for this woman.
It’s a nice robe. But having her naked will be even nicer. I lean forward, bracing myself on one hand above her, and trail a single finger over the robe. It takes concentration to ensure ramp up the fire to the point of burning, to demolish her robe, inch by inch, revealing her pink nipples, her soft stomach, her perfect pussy. All the better, she’s shaking and panting by the time I’m done.
I tease my fire over her nipples, pulsing it softly until she moans. It can be as solid as I need, but for now, I want the suggestion of touch more than actual touch. Silly to be jealous of a fire that’s my construction, but I have Belladonna naked and panting for the pleasure I intend to give her. I don’t want to miss a moment.
Her nipples are warm and sweet against my tongue, her moans in response even sweeter. I tease one nipple to a tight point, then the other. All the while, I watch her face, read her desires. Both scream more, so more is what I give her. I keep my flames playing at her breasts and give them a little more weight to lift and stroke and tease as I shift down her body. Her skin is decadently soft and breaks out in goose bumps in the wake of my tongue. Gods, she’s perfect, from her little moans to the stretch marks decorating her hips and stomach.
As if in response to my thought, her eyes fly open and she shifts. I pause, my breath ghosting over the skin below her belly button, and wait. “Problem?”
“No. Yes. I don’t...” She closes her eyes and inhales deeply. “I’m self-conscious. I don’t want you to think less of me for how I look.”
I’m glad she has her eyes shut so she can’t see the murderous urge rising in me again. It would put a damper on the mood. I have to bank it and bank it hard. “Would you like me to tell you what I see?”
“I don’t know.” She still has her eyes closed. “I might die of embarrassment if you do.”
“Will you start disassociating if I don’t?”
Belladonna finally looks at me. “You’re too smart. It’s uncomfortable to be seen like this.”
