“So lovely, stretched out and on display for me like this,” he murmured, brushing a fingertip over the nearest breast—the barest suggestion of a touch.
An electric tingle zapped from my nipple straight to my clit, and I caught my breath as a pulse of wetness soaked my inner thighs. Rans’ nostrils flared, and a flush of heat rose from my neck to my cheeks—hopefully hidden by my dusky complexion.
Or maybe not.
“You’re blushing,” he teased. “And you’re wet for me after a single touch? Succubi everywhere would be proud of you.”
“Fucker,” I said. I made a show of tugging and squirming against the belt, in hopes that it would hide the way I was rubbing my thighs together in an attempt to ease the pressure between them.
“Still blushing,” he said, amused. “How far down does that flush go, I wonder? A pity all of that black silk is in my way—makes it hard to tell.” A strong, callused hand slid over the silky material from breast to hip, igniting every nerve along the way.
I jerked against my bonds again for good measure. “Too bad you didn’t think of that earlier,” I taunted, already enjoying this new game. “It’s going to be impossible to get it off me now, with my wrists tied like this.”
Shit. Where had this kind of sex been all my life? My skin felt too tight, my body hot and needy and ready to be filled—all this from only a few minutes of teasing and play-acting.
The smile on Rans’ face grew predatory, something about it sending a new pulse of urgency to my throbbing clit.
“Oh,” he said, drawing out the word, “I don’t need to untie you to get this flimsy scrap of cloth out of my way, little vixen.”
“No?” I asked, breathless.
“No,” he confirmed. His hands grasped either side of the plunging v-neck that displayed my cleavage, and the silky fabric ripped to my navel. My breasts spilled out, bare to his burning gaze. “Much better,” he murmured.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” I cursed, my body on fire with the need to be touched. Taken. Used.
“Blasphemy, Zorah?” Rans accused, mock-appalled. “I’m shocked.”
“You’re the one who told me I was part demon,” I gasped. “You’ve got no one to blame but yourself. Now, touch me, goddamn it!” I writhed against the restraint for good measure.
He laughed, arranging his body in an elegant sprawl near the edge of the bed—giving me a clear view of his erect cock, but too far away for me to touch him, bound as I was. “No,” he said, “I don’t believe I will just yet.”
I made a sound of frustration and struggled harder as he leaned casually on an elbow, only to freeze in place when he started stroking himself again, my eyes zeroing in on that slow slide of hand over dick. I could feel it... feel the steady rise of his lust flowing between us. I wanted that cock. I ached for it. Hell, I was practically salivating for it.
“Mmm,” he hummed. “Edging. Never really saw the point until now. Nice to know you can still learn something new after seven hundred years.”
I had no fucking clue what he was rambling on about, and I didn’t really care. His orgasm was approaching, I could feel it. So close, so close, and I’d be able to feel that delectable flood of pleasure washing over me... soaking in to fill up the empty places inside me. Any second now...
He stopped, his hand stilling on his twitching cock, squeezing the base as a bead of pre-come dripped from the tip. All of that lovely, pent-up energy wavered on the brink... and stayed pent up. I made a pitiful noise, straining toward him but unable to reach.
I could feel the promise of his release sliding away as he continued to clamp his fingers around the base of his erection, his imminent orgasm subsiding. I lay there, panting and shivery, until he started jacking off again, smearing the pre-come over the head of his dick to use as lube. I could feel that it was even better for him that way, and I held my breath as he brought himself back to the edge—
—only to stop again.
Over and over he teased me with the promise of his release, only to pull it away at the last instant. By the fourth or fifth time, I was struggling in earnest, cursing him both silently and aloud. As if he’d sensed that I was about five seconds away from getting my wrists free and jumping him, he released his cock with a low growl.
“Christ. There’s only so much of that I can take while I’m watching you writhe around with your wrists tied to the headboard,” he said.
“Good,” I snarled, giving my wrists another jerk for good measure. “Now get over here and give me what I want, or I’ll—“
Whatever threat I might’ve come up with, it was cut off in a gasp of ecstasy when he ripped my nightgown the rest of the way open and palmed my sex roughly. Shameless and desperate, I ground my clit against the heel of his hand. I was so wet it should have been embarrassing, but concerns like that had fled long ago before my overwhelming need for what Rans was offering.
Instead of teasing, he was trying to drown me in pleasure now, or so it seemed. Long fingers delved inside me—stretching and probing—looking for the place along the front wall of my passage that made me arch wildly off the bed. His thumb brushed my clit, and just like that, I was coming with the promised scream—a mindless, wild thing bucking beneath him.
“Bloody fucking hell, luv,” he cursed, poised over me as his magic fingers drew out my release and urged me toward a second one without so much as a pause for me to get my breath back. “I’ll give you what you need, don’t worry.
