Oh. He wasn’t criticising?
Relaxing, I reach for the strings at my back, beginning the arduous process of loosening them. He takes the opportunity to crawl over me, dipping his hands to my skirt and tugging. It slips off, leaving me in just my corset and stockings.
Dakari’s eyes flare as they settle on the unobstructed apex of my thighs.
“You weren’t wearing panties when you put Pierce on his ass?”
I snort. “I haven’t worn them since I was born. Why start now?”
Some parts of modern clothing just don’t work for me. At least he doesn’t question why I’ve foregone those irritating socks that bunched around my ankles.
Sitting forward, I untuck the laces of the corset, only to pause as Dakari crawls over me, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the swell of my left breast, just above the plum-coloured silk.
“Keep going,” he breathes.
My fingers fumble at their task. Every swipe of his lips and tongue, so close to the hard bud of my nipple, erodes my concentration. It’s like he can sense how much I want his tongue lower and is determined to torment me. Then he sucks, leaving a tiny red love bite on the skin.
Shit. Now there’s a knot in my laces.
With a small, frustrated snarl, I reach for a spell I normally use to slice paper and aim it blindly at the strings. The stiffened fabric falls forward, freeing my breasts.
Dakari wastes no time in swiping away the corset, then ducks his head. I expect him to give me what I want, not to swirl his tongue around my nipple like it’s his favourite dessert. His big hands cup my breasts, holding them in place for his worship as my head falls back, body melting onto the soft sheets, so I’m splayed out before him.
Ohhh.
His elbows land on either side of my abdomen, lips dipping to caress my navel next. My breath hitches, but instead of going lower like I expect, he returns to my nipples.
“You’re going too slow,” I complain.
He nips at my right breast in rebuke. “This is our first time. I want the memory of us seared into your brain for another five hundred years.”
There is absolutely no chance of me forgetting this moment, even if I survive to be a thousand. It will be burned into my neurons forever. But before I can reassure him of that, he returns to his task, settling his full weight between my legs.
The combination is decadent, his touches conspiring to overload my nerve endings, and I moan, twisting my fingers deep into his locks. I want him to go further. I want him to never stop what he’s doing. I want… I want…
My hips rise, grinding my clit against the seam of his jeans, and that’s all it takes. My lips part on a gasped whine as I topple over the edge of ecstasy, pleasure suffusing my cells until I can’t remember how to breathe. His smile against my pale skin is devilish. I want to pry myself from the bed and demand he finish losing his clothes, but he leans down, hooks his elbows behind my knees, and forces my legs open so he can settle between them.
“Drenched,” he notes, black stare locked on the folds of my sex like he’s…hungry. “And you’ve only had one orgasm.”
“Only one?” I stammer.
‘One’ was all I wanted. In my past life, ‘one’ was a perfectly acceptable outcome. ‘One’ was the goal, and it was more than most men could manage with a map and directions.
Dakari is not most men.
He proves that when he dives in, delivering a long, flat lick to my pussy that has my lower back bowing from the bed and my breath fleeing once more.
“Dakari!” I forgot how much I loved this. Emotion clogs my throat, heart tightening as I realise this is really happening.
After so many years of yearning, of reading, and reminiscing, I’m falling apart under his tongue. His warm shoulders are pressed against my inner thighs, and it’s better than I remembered.
My body sings under his devourment, and my eyes flutter shut as tears prick and burn at the inner corners. It isn’t until he stops that I even realise I’m crying.
“Baby girl,” he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to the inside of my thigh. “Do you need a minute?”
I wipe frantically at the salty trails on my cheeks. “No. Sorry. I just… I never thought I’d ever get to have this again and—it’s stupid. I know. Don’t stop. Please.”
“I won’t. But if you need?—”
