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He lets out a guttural, “Fuck”, then sinks deeper, setting off another fit of silent choking and lightning strikes of desire. The need to please him wars with the need to breathe. I’m on the verge of unclasping my hands to push him away, but again his sharp, “No,” stops me. “Settle and I’ll let you off.”
Settle? Settle?!
I beg him with my eyes, but he’s not moved, his sternness only serving to tighten the knot of excruciatingly aroused panic. My throat finally loosens a bit and he pulls out.
While I choke and cough, and suck down air, he holds me against his thigh, petting my hair, praising me, telling me how beautiful I am, how much he loved it, and I cling to him. I’m a mess of tumult and trust and raging hunger, and when I turn my head and find him still hard and right there, I wrap my lips around him again without hesitation. I want him so badly, and this time he allows me to do as I will, letting me use my hands to pump the shaft while I suckle the tip.
It doesn’t take long to send him over the edge, and he chants whispered, filthy curses as he does it. I do my best to swallow everything he gives me, but when his softening length slips from my lips, it’s accompanied by some of his seed. His knees hit the rug on either side of mine and he takes hold of my jaw with both hands. Without a word, he kisses me, long and deep, his tongue cleaning every bit of his seed that I wasn’t able to swallow. It has me feeling like I’m floating, weightless and content.
“You’re so perfect,” he whispers into my mouth when he’s satisfied. “Now I’m going to need you to be a good girl and lie back.”
Huh?I grab onto his shoulders as he pushes me back and lays me out on the sheep skin. Before I even have an inkling of his intention, he’s spreading my thighs wide and feasting on my core.
“Luka!” I gasp, gripping his hair tight, pushing him away. Or am I drawing him closer? Either way, I’m drowning in a deluge of pleasure I’ve never known. It’s shocking and intense and exquisite . . . to the point that my body has no idea what to do with it all. He forces me to ride the edge of my orgasm for what feels like a lifetime before his fingers breach me once again and set off a long, drawn-out, flare of white-hot ecstasy.
I come back to myself as he lifts me from the rug and places me on the bed. For the second night in a row, I’m wonderfully wrung out and I couldn’t be happier.
♦♦♦
Morning comes with a horrible sense of déjà vu. Sitting bolt upright, I scan the dimly lit room for Luka as the covers slide to my waist and the cold air bites at my exposed skin.
“You okay?” he asks gruffly and my head whips around to the sideboard where he’s pouring water into the basin.
Relief tugs at my heart. “You –” I clear my throat and try again. “You’re still here.”
Unimpressed with the obviousness of the statement, he turns back to his morning ablutions.
Already searching for my clothes, I throw my legs over the side of the bed. He doesn’t have a smile for me this morning, but he hasn’t left me to wake alone either, so I’m counting it as progress. “Can I break my fast with you?”
He gives a non-committal grunt.
“Are you going downstairs?” The parts of the floor that aren’t covered by rugs are cold under my bare feet as I scramble to collect my strewn articles of clothing. Rushing for the chamber pot, I notice he’s already fully dressed . . . and that he hasn’t answered me. “I can be ready quickly.”
Relieving myself while pulling on my shirt, I ignore my dismay at his silence. If he thinks he can rid himself of me, especially now, he’s delusional. I get my pants on and jam my feet into my boots, then while turning my overdress right side out, I come out from behind the partition – and stop dead.
He’s seated, casual as can be, in his hearth chair. The now fully-open shutter on the window behind him brightens the room considerably and I don’t miss how he’s subtly tapping a tortoiseshell comb on the arm of the chair. “You have time to wash.”
“I do?” I say stupidly.
He jerks his head toward the sideboard over his shoulder, letting me know that his patience isn’t endless.
“Thank you.” I breeze past him with a bright smile. “Will I be allowed some freedom again today?” I ask, washing my hands. “To go to the hot springs?” Wetting a cloth, I scrub it over my face. “Ion was very respectful and he kept everyone at bay, not that many wanted to speak with me, but . . .” I lower my pants and carefully wipe at my tender flesh. “Anyway, did you know he doesn’t like Venna very much? Is it not general knowledge that she’s quite friendly once you get over the initial fear?”
He sighs. “Woman?”
“Yes?” I set the cloth aside and pull my green overdress on before heading back in his direction.
He gives me a withering look. “It’s early. Must you chatter? Just bring the stool and sit.” He indicates the space in front of him.
“Uh, okay,” I stammer, more than a little confused.Bring the stool?Returning with it, I sit facing him, which only earns me more frowning disapproval as he twirls his finger. “You want me to . . . oh, right.”
Turning around, I begin to question my sanity. Surely he doesn’t mean to –
The first touch of his fingers in my hair startles me. “Easy. I’m not going to hurt you.” He works at loosening the leather strips holding the braids that Kata arranged yesterday, then unravels my hair and starts with the comb.
For the first couple of minutes, I sit in stunned silence as he carefully detangles my locks. A touch self-conscious, I finally whisper, “Luka, you’re combing my hair.”
He snorts. “You’re very observant in the mornings.”
