He brought his thumb to her mouth.
She sucked it in without hesitation, eyes closing. The wet heat of her mouth made him see red, a desire so intense he wanted to howl.
The room pulsed, the air thick with her arousal and the sound of their mingled breaths.
He tugged his finger away and skimmed his hands over her thighs, inching closer to her core with every brush. She lifted her hips, offering herself with aching grace. The shimmer of her wetness caught the candlelight, and the sight made him groan low in his throat.
He touched her. First the right fold. Then the left. A stroke for each side, measured and slow, like tuning an exquisite instrument.
A soft whimper escaped her lips when he finally sank one finger inside. Her walls gripped him—wet, hot, begging.
He thrust gently. Rhythmic. Deep.
Curl and release.
Tension and echo.
A prelude. A promise.
His thumb joined the song, circling her clit—soft, then hard, then harder. More pressure. More friction. Her belly tensed, her thighs trembled.
He felt her peak rising. So he stopped.
“Non. I need—“
“Do you need my hands here?”
Her sweet words were lost in a gasp when his hand swept lower—over her mound, down the slit, and finally… he touched the key beneath her. He played her, holding the note longer each time, letting the sound vibrate inside her, filling her with his song.
Her nectar dripped into the keys, the ivory gleaming. Mouth parting and thighs quivering, she rolled her hips sweetly, seeking more.
William bent and kissed the hollow beneath her jaw, then sucked hard on the skin above her pulse. “I love making your pussy dance for me.”
She widened her legs, her movements frantic. “Come inside me, please.”
Fingers trembling, he opened his trousers and freed his cock—thick, rigid, flushed with need.
His breath came harsh now as he positioned himself between her parted thighs. He flexed his knees and guided himself to her entrance, the head nudging her slick heat. Slowly he pushed inside, and watched himself disappear into her, inch by glorious inch, her body stretching to take him. Her walls clenched around him, and he nearly lost himself right there.
Helene clung to him, and he to her. He buried his face in her hair, and then licked the salt from her neck. She surrounded him—heat, scent, sound. She was everywhere. And still it wasn’t enough. His chest ached, swelled with something beyond lust. He wanted her inside of him.
Not just her body—but everything. Her breath. Her voice. Her soul. His arms wrapped around her, and his heart pounded so strongly she had to feel it throbbing against her. Each breath he took was heavy, and a surge of passion flooded him, so intense it obliterated all else—his goals, his resolve, his promises, his vow.
“I missed you.” Her eyes were moist as she searched his gaze.
Miss? William tightened his hold over her waist. He didn’t exist beyond her. His control slipped, leaving him groundless. Inside, the beast surged—snarling, desperate to break free, to own her, to lose himself inside her and never return.
He could not allow this to consume him. Not again.
The contact with her, so close, threatened to push him into the precipice. With a shuddering breath, he gripped her hips and pulled away. Chill air hit his cock, a sharp contrast to her moist heat. His hands lingered over her waist.
Crying out, Helene protested in broken French, her eyes glazed by desire.
Jaw tense, shoulders high, he controlled his breaths.
Panting, William tugged her to her feet. The piano emitted a shivering cry, the notes protesting her absence. She complied, her body pliant as he turned her and splayed her hands atop the lid.
Her back flexed. The muscles honed by her art were a work of art. He reached out and brushed his fingers along the ridges of her spine. A tremor shot through her, her skin alive beneath his touch.
