He grazed a hand over the side of her face. Her skin was warm from the breeze and flushed from his presence. Want pressed against him, building him up.
"They’re busy," Bastian murmured against the side of her face, loving the way she shivered faintly as his breath skittered across her flesh. "You’re mine right now, pet." He moved until his lips were right before hers, grazing. "Remember what you promised me?"
Her eyes crossed adorably as she tried to hold his gaze, dipping to his mouth. He’d fed yesterday, yet nothing compared to the memory of her taste—crafted solely for him.
"Now?" she asked.
"Yes, now." Bastian let his lips drift over hers in promise of what was to come, then pulled away quickly.
Luella’s hands shook against the gown, making the skirts flutter. She wore a plain dressing gown, a sash around her waist. Her bare feet poked from the long hem. The sharp neckline dipped between the small swell of her breasts.
Was she nude beneath?
Bastian’s hungry eyes fell to her feet, then lazily tracked up to her face, stilling on the dip of her waist where the ribbon of her dressing gown was tied snugly, accentuating it. The curve of her hips and the rise and fall of her chest with her sweet little rapid breaths. He wanted to utterly ruin her.
"Get on the bed."
Luella dropped the gown.
"W-what?"
"Don’t make me repeat myself, pet," he warned sensually.
Her breath hitched. He heard the roar of her blood through her veins, thrumming in his ears.
She still didn’t move.
Bastian relished the power he held over her. He’d meant every word he’d ever said to her. He was hers. He… cared greatly,deeplyfor her. He wanted to make her feel good. Wanted to replace her pain and worry with pleasure.
And he was a creature of sensuality. He always had been. Who could blame him if his two greatest obsessions fit so wonderfully together? Luella and pleasure. Silken wonders, soft touches, and her blushing innocence.
Her heavy emotions weighed on them all. They’d grown thicker after Emarelia had left earlier that day, when she’d tried to bring up Luella’s true parents.
Bastian wanted her to be happy. Through tears and misery and heartache, she’d earned it.
His tone dropped. "Get on the bed."
She blew out a low breath, then turned, and he eyed her curves with appreciation.
The ends of the silk ribbon around her waist fluttered as she placed her knees on the side of the bed and crawled across it.
Bastian hummed. Would she like what he imagined doing to her?
She sat amid the sheets, staring at him with nervousness.
He walked to her, stopping when the edge of the bed hit his knees. Hunger stirred within him.
Her legs were splayed on either side of her, hands tucked in the space between her thighs. She fisted the material of herdressing gown where it bunched between her legs, making it pull taut across her hips and waist.
She was innocence, begging to be corrupted.
"If you knew how you appeared to me right now…" Bastian shook his head, placing his knees on the bed just as she’d done, as he knelt by her legs.
She licked her lips, and he couldn’t help himself.
He surged forward, gripping the back of her head to bring her to his mouth. He kissed her sensually as soft wet sounds and her hitched breaths filled the room.
Rising on his knees, he loomed over her. His grip on her head forced her to meet him. He didn’t yield, even when one of her hands rested on his chest, fingers curling in the neckline. He knew her touch would wrinkle the fabric. There would be no mistaking what he’d done to her.
