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She rolled in the water, and floated on her back, not caring that her hair got soaked. She paddled gently against the current to keep herself in one spot. The drums were muffled with her ears below the stream’s surface.
Staring up at the stars and at the crescent moon, she let the stress of the past two nights drift away. She gave herself to the beauty of the moment, to the music and the pulse of the drums, to the starlight and moonlight, and to the soft feel of Quinlan’s vibrations as he touched her through the water.
She smiled. That feels nice.
You’re beautiful—a pale island of delectable flesh on a dark slate of water. May I come to you?
The dominant man requested permission?
She smiled even more. Yes. Please.
I have a condition.
Anything. She couldn’t believe she’d said that. ‘Anything’. Without thinking, without protesting even a little, she’d agree to anything.
He chuckled softly. He was closer than she realized.
She lifted her head and found him just a few feet away, moving toward her, the waterline a few inches below his navel, pecs glistening in the glow of her fae night vision. He’d removed his clasp and his long thick hair hung around his shoulders.
Maybe because he knew she watched him, he lifted his arms, flexing, as he pushed his hair behind his back. His chest rippled as well as his arms. He looked incredible. You’ll need to agree to this condition.
She nodded, the water lapping at her shoulders. Tell me.
You’ll have to do everything I say, when I say it. He drew close and held her gaze tight to his. Do you agree?
Batya stared into dark eyes that glittered with desire. His smoky, applewood scent floated around her, causing her nostrils to flare and her mouth to water. She nodded slowly, sinking her feet to the bottom of the stream and rising to meet him. The soft caress of his seductive vibration spread over her abdomen.
She didn’t touch him, though. Instead, she waited for him to speak, to command, to do whatever the hell he wanted with her. Had she really agreed to this? What, then, would the vampire require of her?
* * * * * * * * *
Quinlan didn’t recognize the sensation at first, the one that travelled through him head-to-foot and strengthened his muscles. Eventually, he hit on the name for it. She’d called it right, speaking of dominance. He wanted to rule her and his body loved the idea.
He also knew what he wanted from Batya, a kind of surrender she’d never given to any man before. She’d already turned over her will to him, and to some extent, her safety.
But there was more here, something he wanted to subdue and she wouldn’t like it at first, he was sure of that. He took her hand and led her from the stream, picking up all their clothes as he went. Once inside the tent, he dropped the lot by the flap. Even though she sustained the enthrallment shield, he lowered the flap so that nobody wandering by would be able to see her if her shield wavered.
She was for his eyes, no one else.
The staff had made up his bed and laid out towels. He picked one up and dried her off, stroking her full br**sts, narrow waist, and rounded hips. He turned her and took his time with her bottom and between her legs, parting them with his hands, rubbing the towel back and forth slowly and on purpose until she moaned.
She was a sensual woman and he loved it, that she responded to all kinds of touch and stimulation. That he’d made her come with his vibration alone had kept him on the hunt, made him hunger for her knowing that there was more.
Right now, he was about to find out how much more.
He pulled the furs back and told her to lie down on her stomach but to spread her legs wide.
She crawled over the stiff mattress.
“I want you spread eagle.” He pushed the pillows out of the way.
The bed was small. Sleeping might be problematic, but he loved how her pale body filled the space over the black silk sheets. Henry had great staff and it showed.
He watched her breathing, the quick nervous rise and fall of her back, and his thighs tensed, his c**k growing hard. He liked her in this state, the confident woman laid out, vulnerable, at his mercy.
He stretched out behind her, planting his hands on either side of her hips. What man didn’t love the sight of woman’s shapely ass and Batya’s was about perfect.
He kissed her, soft slow kisses moving from one side to the other, then dragging his wet tongue over her skin, lapping at times. Even her skin tasted of her tropical flower scent. He got lost in the sensation, nipping at her, then biting hard so that she cried out. Her pelvis rolled and she moaned, but he held her down.
Just feel me, feel what I’m doing, but don’t move.
Her breathing grew ragged, even rough. He watched her fingers clutch, then release the sheet repeatedly. But he wouldn’t let her h*ps rise and fall.
He shifted backwards, inching his mouth lower, to the soft flesh of her inner thighs, working his way to the center, lapping, nipping, sucking. He lifted her h*ps and put a pillow under them to raise them up to reach her better. He wanted to do more French kissing between her thighs.
Once he got the right position, he used his hands to massage her bottom as he kissed her the way he wanted to, swirling his tongue in and out, sucking at times, plucking at her lower lips, always massaging.
Her breathing had turned to a soft pant. Quinlan, I need to move.
Stay put. He pressed her h*ps down.
She cried out in frustration, but he continued lapping at her, savoring the taste of her that flowed over his tongue, her scent rich, his c**k hard.
He opened up his vibration, focusing solely on his tongue. He plunged inside and let the vibrations flow. She tensed, but she was right on the edge. He added more vibration and thrust faster. She let out a long cry and he could feel by her inner pulses that she was coming. But he held her flat as he punched his tongue inside her, thrusting hard, sending wave after wave of vibration into her and through her.
After a good long minute of writhing and crying out, her body finally fell lax. Oh, sweet Goddess, that was amazing, and what you can do with a vibration and your tongue—
He slapped her bottom. No talking unless I give you permission.
She moaned and her fingers once more squeezed the sheets.
“I want you on your hands and knees.”
* * * * * * * * *
Batya struggled to rise up because the orgasm had sent her to the moon and she’d still not quite come back to earth. What Quinlan could do to her with his tongue and just a little vibration.
Now he wanted her on her hands and knees.
She finally found her balance and looked back at him, the thick, damp mass of her hair falling over her right shoulder.
