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Bracing against the counter, I gasped and felt just how much relief he could give. His understanding of my anatomy, just where to dig in, where to soothe, was inexplicable. How many years, how many journals, had he studied for this very moment? I could only guess.
What knowledge might live in the fixated general’s head? What had ten years of obsession and the constant concern a female with the perfect song might be taken by another done to him?
Another far more satisfying ripple of pops tripped up my spine, tense muscles relaxing under his touch. A sigh followed as my eyes closed, while my bones felt as if they finally found their proper place.
Drawn back to the heat of his chest, he held me in his arms. Warm hands came to my front as he weighed the belly. There, he rubbed much more gently, soothing skin made shiny from the unaccustomed stretch.
A traveling touch drifted to my swollen breast, another between where I pressed my thighs shut against him.
“Let me help you relax, beloved. Just a little more comfort to soothe the sting.” Fingertips found my slit, little circles teasing where I was swollen.
There was no point in resisting when he was in such a mood, not over something he clearly believed was ultimately good for me. Submitting to his small request, my thighs parted just enough to grant him access.
Expecting softness, I reeled when he roughly pinched my nipple and dove several fingertips into my passage. Once inside, he hooked my pubic bone and roughly rubbed at a tender place that sent me right to my toes.
An instant, unexpected orgasm left the flesh of my stomach rippling around their burden. I watched the shape of my belly change in the mirror, eyes wide and mind astounded. Every muscle in my core went crazy, spasms stretching the muscles of my abdomen, contractions clenching at his hand. On instinct, I bore down against his plug, against his rough touch, with all my might and trembled as he gave me the strangest blend of pain-laced pleasure.
No matter how hard I squeezed, how much I writhed, the plug didn’t budge. Nor might I push out the aggressive fingers buried in my cunt. Throbbing, my nipple grew red, and the whole of my insides danced in a way that was beyond my control.
He bit atop the tendon that ran from my shoulder to my neck, and I screamed, climaxing harder than I thought I could bear.
He kept me like that, hanging from his fingers, working some bundle of nerves inside me, my poor nipple trapped in a rolling pinch, his teeth puncturing skin.
A few drops of blood spilled, crimson as they marked my clavicle and breast.
Earlier, it had been his red stain upon me. Now, it was mine.
Yet, no part of my brain thought to panic, not trapped as it was in a growing overload of sensation. The body was not designed to feel so many contrary things at once. From my chest, I rattled out an unbidden call, the musculature of my abdomen moving and waving, my legs shaking, and my arms useless where I gripped his wrist like a lifeline.
The world began to spin, a transcendent burst of fire burning away everything in its path, a different kind of climax that had no end in sight.
The pleasure offered no fulfillment, not like the way he could make me feel when he was inside me or adoring me with his tongue. The waves uncoiling struck places within, reminding my body of what it was and why it was full. Shaking loose tension as I rattled and strained.
It wasn’t until I completely let go that I was swept up and incapable of coherent thought. Only then did he begin to ease off.
My breast ached and my cunt throbbed, ripples still dancing over my belly. I bled from his teeth, but my eyes were bright.
Gently, he soothed my burning breast. Carefully, he pulled his fingers from my abused core.
His tongue laved my wound until I ceased bleeding.
“That’s better,” he whispered at my ear before sucking his fingers clean of my slippery fluids.
Watching his reflection savor my taste, I found myself biting my lip, the whole display indecent.
And I liked it. I liked him obscene.
Heaven, help me.
Who in the hell was I?
I must have said it aloud, Cyderial grinning wickedly as he replied, “You’re my mate.”
A loud smack landed on my ass, my jaw hanging loose when he announced, “Come, let’s get you dressed.”
* * *
Over the years, I had seen Cyderial in his various uniforms. In his home, I saw him in low-slung silken trousers. Never had I seen the male in casual clothing.
