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“You’re not talking about Art class, are you?”
“No.”
“Ah. Drawing me is a distraction so we can discuss plans.”
“Correct.”
Nodding, she goes back to her closet and starts undressing. I, uh, hadn’t thought that far, to be honest, hadn’t considered her undressing or dressing in my clothes. I came here with the excuse of drawing her.
Now I swallow, my mouth gone dry, my dick aching, hard like a rock in my pants. This desire isn’t going away. How can it, when she’s pulling down her pants, revealing her lacy panties, when she starts taking off her bra while keeping her back to me? It’s a striptease that’s setting my blood on fire, even though she’s obviously not doing it to tease me.
I’m the one who asked for it.
And then she pulls on what I bought her and it’s even worse, because of course I chose clothing that excites me and turns me on. Not the black and red lace, the spikes and openings that excite demons but flimsy, gauze-like silk and fine diaphanous lace that barely hides anything.
Abesh, this was a bad idea. I’m losing track of what I came here to do.
When she turns around, I almost come in my pants. These clothes weren’t meant to be worn in public but in the bedroom, for me, and the reality is even hotter than my fantasies. The negligee which only reaches the top of her thighs is sheer with embroideries of clouds and flowers, and the gauzy underwear hides nothing. Her nipples are dark impressions, the hard points clearly outlined, and I can see the dark shadow between her legs.
Arawn and ye elder gods. This is the mother of all mistakes. I can’t think as she pulls out the chair from her desk and sits, crossing her legs. She has kicked off her shoes, too, and she’s barefoot. I stare at the arch of her foot, the dainty toes, the slenderness of her ankles, the swell of her calf.
I start to sketch her, making the outline, drawing in a few shadows—and press the pencil so hard against the page that the tip breaks. Cursing, I look up and find her leaning forward, her breasts all but spilling out of the negligee.
My art pad and pencil fall from my hands, tumbling to the floor as she rises to her feet.
“Sin?”
She comes into my arms and I clutch her to me, the blanket dropping off my shoulders. She’s in my lap, her legs folded over my thighs, and it’s still not close enough. My heart is thumping so hard it could break a rib, and all the aches take a backseat as I bury my face in her neck.
“Damn…” I close my eyes and press my lips to her soft skin. I’m going to rip off the clothes I bought her, rip them to shreds and sink into her so deep I can’t ever come out, stay inside her forever.
But she’s pulling back. Why is she pulling back?
“Hey…” I try to hold on to her but she’s like a cloud, slipping out of my grasp. “What’s wrong?”
“Sin. You forgot a few things,” she says gently, putting her hands on my face. “We can’t do this unless you know…”
“What things?”
“Do you remember the elder who took you?”
I frown. “No, I… I don’t recall. What does it matter?”
She takes my hand, pushes back the sleeve and we both stare at the marks of the shackles. “We let you down, Ashton and me. Didn’t get to you in time. You’re angry with us.”
“I’m not. What…?”
“I can’t lie to you, Sin. I won’t. I won’t be like her, pretend everything is okay to get you on my side.”
“I don’t want you to lie. I want to break this spell. I’m not happy. Not unless I’m with you.”
Her smile is uncertain, her eyes shiny with tears. “God, I love you, Sin. That’s all I want, too.”
And she’s kissing me, finally, damn… I’m falling into this kiss like a man finally breathing sweet air, sliding my hands up her body, under the flimsy negligee, finding the clasp of the bra, already fumbling with it—
The magic slams into me, wrenching a terrible sound from my throat. My vision goes black and I jerk back like a fish on a hook, falling back on the bed.
The door to the room slams open just as Mia scrambles off me. I can hear her voice, faintly, asking if I’m okay.
