Page 51 of Bloodgrove

A satisfied, hungry growl escaped him the moment her rich, spiced taste returned to his tongue. And her wish was his command—he devoured her like a starving animal, his hands closing around her thighs and sinking into the softness of her hips. His tongue danced across her lips, from the swollen bud to the hot, tight opening.

Elodie cursed his name, her body trembling half from the strain of the position and half from pleasure as her orgasm built piece by piece. Will felt it and drove her onward until the waves were just about to break.

Then he stopped and rose.

“What in damnation are you doing?” Elodie stared at him in disbelief, pressing her knees together in an attempt to catch the orgasm before it escaped, but he forced them back into position. “You damned bastard!” Breathless, her head fell to one shoulder. The flush had spread from her cheeks to her throat, and a thin sheen of sweat gleamed above her lip and at her temples.

“You wanted me to show you the world, to bring you a new age.” Will smiled devilishly, and Elodie clung to every word. “Do you trust me?”

She swallowed and licked her dry lips. “No.”

“But that is the only way this game works…”

“No. We know what we want, and we take it. Trust is an unnecessary luxury for the naïve.”

Will raised an eyebrow.

Elodie shivered. “Will, what are you planning?”

“Lie back, but keep your legs open,” he said at last, taking pity on her, and she sank with relief onto the chaos of his desk.

He searched the inner pocket of his coat, which he had thrown over the back of his chair, and withdrew something he carried only out of habit. He had not expected much use for it in Bloodgrove. He unscrewed the cap of the engraved flask, the size of his palm, and poured a generous amount of oil into his hand.

“Will?”

“If you will not trust me, then at least trust my experience.” Smiling, he dripped a generous amount of oil over her rosette of tight muscle.

Elodie sat upright at once.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked coolly, studying the storm of emotions chasing across her pretty face.

“No. I don’t know. What are you doing?”

Will tilted his head. “How do you think men make love?”

Elodie’s lips parted with an answer already prepared, as always, but then she closed her mouth again. Her eyebrows drew together. “Are you going to love me that way now?”

He smiled gently. “No. The first time I take you, I want to take you the traditional way a man was made to take a woman.” He shuddered involuntarily at the words.

He began stroking her lips in slow, soothing circles.

“The first time?” Elodie caught the small slip.

“Today, I only want to give you pleasure.”

Elodie lowered herself onto her forearms as Will’s fingers drew tighter circles, brushing her bud and entrance.

“I thought you meant to punish me?”

Will only smiled, which alarmed Elodie, but then his finger moved lower, and she forgot to argue. He remained standing so he could watch every twitch of her expression and listen to her body, which would betray her more readily than her words.

Everything was slick with oil. There was no resistance except the tense muscle as Will pressed his finger against the opening. Slowly, listening to Elodie’s whimpers, he entered her. He whispered praise and stroked her vulva with his other hand while continuing to push.

“I understand the punishment,” she complained, but Will only smiled.

“You are doing so well. Almost there.” His finger slipped through the first ring. “Look at the way you take my finger. Gods, what a greedy girl you are.” Her body drew him in, hot and tight, gripping him as though it never meant to let go.

For one moment, Will had to stop, close his eyes, and breathe.