Page 19 of Drawn into Oblivion

“A-ah,” she gasped.

“Mm, is that a good sound?”

“Yes,” she said, quite certain of that. He lightly scraped the edges of his blunt nails across her pert nipples, and the sensation was alarmingly pleasurable. She gasped again, abandoning her effort to cover herself in favor of grabbing his wrists.

“Then it feels good?” His voice as much as his touch was making her warm and drowsy.

“Yes,” she whispered. It was all she could say. He was stealing her capacity for thought.

“Can you imagine my mouth here, Mai?” He strummed his fingers over her nipples, and she forgot to breathe. “Soft, warm, and wet, sucking the pleasure out of you?”

His words were crude, but they hit a sensitive nerve deep inside, and she mewled as arousal seeped from her sex. She had no idea she could be so…wanton. She briefly wondered if he had cast a spell, but he had not spoken any Mahou nor called upon his magic in any way. She found that hard to believe, especially when her magic was stirring inside her.

Rosuke began to question his discipline—no, his entire strategy. How he yearned to wrap her legs around his waist and thrust between her delicate thighs while listening to her throaty moans. But not tonight. Tonight, his one and only goal was showing her how much pleasure she could feel with another—him, specifically.

Him only.

“I’m going to put my hand between your legs, Mai,” he rasped, animal-like noises catching in his throat as she unconsciously undulated against him.

“Gently, please,” she softly stammered. “No one else has t-touched me there.”

That small admission nearly had him cursing with desire. He had figured he would be her first experience, but to hear her say it out loud… “Of course, sweet girl,” he groaned. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

He stroked one hand down her body while teasing her nipple. Her hand on his wrist followed. He pinched her nipple harder, drawing her attention for a moment as he slowly slid his feet farther apart and pulled his palm up the inside of her thigh. Dueling gods, she was as soft and silky as her dress—no, more so.

“You are so lovely,” he hoarsely panted. He could wait no longer and cupped her mound. His eyes shot open in surprise. She was more than wet—she was soaking.

“Wait,” Mai blurted, clamping on to his wrist. Oh, but it was too late, she realized. Already her vagina throbbed, delighting in his touch, even as static as his hand was. She just wanted it too much. Was that how it was supposed to be? Divine One, how was she to come through this with any dignity?

“Do you want to stop?” he asked, low and soft. “We’re almost there, but if you’re scared…”

She could lie and say she was scared, that the wild beating of her heart when he’d laid his warm, broad hand between her legs her hadn’t been elation but terror. She could claim he had already hurt her even though every touch had been gentle and thrilling. She could say anything she wanted to make it stop so she could run away and hide in her room, but then she really would be a coward, one who couldn’t accept her own feelings and attraction.

“Mai, talk to me,” he whispered.

“I’m w-worried about going too far. My head’s already spinning, and… What if I do something lewd? What if I’m too impulsive and…? I don’t want to embarrass myself. I don’t want you to think badly of me.”

“Oh,” he sighed with sympathy. “No, sweet Mai.” He hugged her with his free arm and kissed her cheek. “You could never do anything that’d make me think badly of you—not when it comes to your pleasure, how you react to it, or how you want it.” His voice turned rough. “I just want to be the one to give it to you.”

She relaxed her grip on his wrist, his words easing her anxieties. She knew, no matter if things between them went nowhere after tonight, he would treat her with care here and now. And for so long, she had thought a crow like her could not expect as much, especially not from a man who exuded sex like someone with centuries of practice.

“Just feel my hands, sweet girl.”

He massaged her mound with one hand and plucked her nipple with the other. The two were somehow connected, and she shook from the reverberation. Then he slipped his finger between her labia, and she nearly swooned. “Ah!” she cried before pressing her knuckles to her lips.

“Let me hear you, Mai.”

“B-but someone’ll—oh!”

She mashed her hand against her mouth. If she didn’t muffle her cries someone would hear. But he made staying quiet so difficult. She almost hated him for how good his touch felt, like perfectly pitched notes vibrating through the body of an instrument—her body. And her pleasure was the music.

Gods, Mai was perfect in every way. The wet warmth of her body coated his fingers and made his loins throb. The soft weight of her on his lap and in his arms made him want to be gentle and rough at the same time. However, he had yet to hear a genuine sound of pleasure from her throat—only gasps and choked cries. If he was to deny himself for the foreseeable future, he wanted to hear every single moan and sigh.

“No one but me will hear,” he assured her. “Don’t stifle your beautiful voice.” They had at least a few more minutes until a guard walked past, and he suspected that even if a guard were to hear moaning, they’d assume it was Shumei.

He slowed the swirl of his finger and pressed harder. She groaned again, louder this time, having splayed her hand to let some of the sound through. Her throaty voice twisted his insides.

“That’s it. Let it out.” He kissed her where he could—her shoulder, her neck, behind her ear. The scent of her skin was intoxicating. She slowly lowered her hand, lips pressed together. He teased her clit in small, quick circles—not too light. Her breath caught. And then he got the exact sound he wanted. A long, yearning moan that made his heart race.