His hand drifted over her flat belly, tracing the curve of a rib, the bend of her waist, before settling between her legs to briefly cup her. "Release me, Imogen, and spread your legs."
She obeyed him instantly, her eyes glassy, her breathing shallow. Cededa groaned low in his throat as the musky scent of aroused woman filled his nostrils. How long had it been since such a perfume sent his senses reeling? His mouth watered in anticipation of tasting her.
Imogen gasped, her hips jerking when he traced the inside of her thigh before doing the same to the other. Her gasp became a moan when his fingers delicately spread her and began to rub, stroking swiftly until her hips thrust and pushed, and she alternately begged for him to stop and continue. She almost broke free of his grip when he slid one finger inside her, going deep and easily, aided by the slick wetness of her arousal. Her hips bucked against his hand.
Cededa watched her lovely face, the roll of her eyes as she surrendered to his touch, the parting of her lips as she breathed in short pants. His fingers were slippery as he stroked her, teasing, parting, penetrating.
Gods, but this would be the greatest test of his endurance. The desire to pull her legs over his shoulders and plunge his cock into Imogen’s welcoming body nearly overwhelmed him. He hadn’t lied when he told her he didn’t have a use for virgins. They required the patience he admitted he didn’t possess. Even if he did, the girl in his arms was doing a fine job of destroying it in a matter of moments.
Her soft whimpers and the rapid rise and fall of her hips warned him she neared her climax. He stopped, withdrawing his finger slowly, shuddering as her inner muscles tightened in protest.
“What are you doing? Why did you stop?” Imogen’s hips rocked forward and back as her fingernails dug half-moon designs into his arms.
“Shh, Imogen.” He loomed over her and released her wrists. She instantly draped her arms over his shoulders, burying her hands in his hair. He stared into her eyes as he brought his slick fingers to his mouth, sucking each one slowly to savor her taste. She inhaled sharply, her pupils expanding even more at the sight.
She tasted better than the costliest wine. He ached; ached to slip his tongue inside her, to lick and suck her until she screamed his name to the heavens. He rested an elbow on either side of her head and bent low. Her lips quivered beneath his as she struggled to recapture his mouth in a kiss. He held back, teasing her with just the glide of his tongue across her lower lip.
“Shh, Imogen,” he whispered. “This is just the beginning.” He pressed light kisses to her temple, her nose, each eyelid, the tip of her chin, the side of her jaw.
She sighed, turning her head so his mouth caressed her neck. He worshipped her as devoutly as any believer before the altar of a forgotten god. Muscle rippled and flexed where his tongue traveled. Cededa returned to her breasts, drawing ever tightening concentric circles with his tongue until he reached her nipples and sucked them into his mouth. Imogen groaned his name and urged him on with her hands cupping his head.
He loved her leisurely, savoring the varying textures of her skin, the flat expanse of her belly and gentle angle of her hipbones. Her thighs splayed wide, beckoning him as he backed toward the foot of the bed. The taste of her on his fingers only swelled his hunger for more. He slid his hands under her buttocks and lifted her to his mouth.
Imogen nearly came off the bed at the first flick of his tongue. Only Cededa’s grip on her hips held her there. She chanted his name between moans as he made love to her with his mouth. Her pelvis butted his chin as she pushed against him. His shoulders flexed under the weight of her legs as she dug her heels into his back and bucked in the throes of climax.
Imogen went from rigid to boneless, her legs falling away from his back. Cededa laved the wetness coating her entrance, making her jump. He was a breath away from coming on the sheets. His arms shook as he rose above her. She’d never be more ready for him than now, and he had neither the will nor the control to prolong the moment.
Torchlight flickered over her body, and her chest rose and fell with her staccato pants. The sweep of her hand over his chest and stomach made his aching cock throb even harder. “That was my favorite of the frescoes in your bedchamber,” she said with a lazy smile.
Caught between laughter and a groan, he pressed down on her, widening her legs even more to accept his hips and prepare for his possession. She was untried if no longer so innocent. He had eased her tight passage open with his fingers, aided by the natural wetness of her desire, but some discomfort was unavoidable, no matter how much care he took.
Fearless Imogen brushed aside his hesitation by wrapping her legs around his hips, anchoring him to her. “Teach me,” she said and punctuated the command by rubbing against his shaft where it nestled between her thighs.
She was neither mage nor witch, but those two words beguiled him, snapping the thin cord of his restraint. Cededa cupped her face in his hands. “Look at me, Imogen.”
He stared into her eyes and pushed, the head of his cock stretching muscles swollen by her climax. They closed around his shaft, squeezing. He gasped, the sound echoed by Imogen who stiffened in his arms but didn’t look away. Her knees dug into his ribs, her heels into his lower back as he slid slowly inside her.
She clasped him like a well-made glove. Cededa shuddered in her arms, overwhelmed by the urge to thrust hard, feel those internal muscles flex around his cock. A trickle of sweat meandered down Imogen’s temple and disappeared in her hair. Cededa kissed the spot, tasting salt. She lay rigid in his arms, her shallow breaths tickling his shoulder. He kissed the curve of her ear, leaving it to feather his lips across her hot cheek to her eyelid.
He rested halfway inside her, nearly mad with the urge to thrust deeper. Instead, he plied more kisses to her face, learning the landscape of her features; no longer banal to him but beautiful. Her body slowly relaxed against his, and Cededa swallowed back a triumphant cry when Imogen’s hips tentatively rocked forward, sheathing him a little more.
Her lips were soft under his, her tongue warm as it glided languidly over his bottom lip. He deepened the kiss, filling her mouth with his tongue in the same way his cock filled her body. He pulled away to gaze into her eyes once more. “A little more, Imogen, just a little more. I promise.”
He thrust, sliding deep until his bollocks pressed against the curves of her buttocks. Imogen grunted, her eyes wide. She curled upward, sinking her teeth into his shoulder. Cededa groaned low and long, caught between the ecstasy of possession and the sting of her bite blossoming across his shoulder. He tugged on her hair, pulling her head back so he could look at her.
Pain, challenge and desire swirled in her gaze. “Well met, my beauty,” he rasped. “Well met.”
He kissed her hard, opening her mouth to accept his tongue as he’d opened her body to accept his cock. Imogen’s hands tangled into his hair, trapping him, and soon the ravager became the ravaged.
His plans to go slowly, to initiate her gently, went up in flames at the urging of her hips against his. He slid partway out of her only to surge inside once more, hard enough to push her across the bed. He loved her; he fucked her and ultimately possessed her. All while the deadly force of her bane washed through his veins.
He buried his face in Imogen’s neck and breathed the perfume of flowers from her hair. Her scent, her taste, the feel of her around him sent him spiraling out of control. He plunged into her, over and over, gripping her hips hard enough to leave marks. On the edge of orgasm, he sucked on the soft skin of her neck and moaned her name in her ear. Sensation drowned him in a tide. Heavy groans spilled from his lips as Imogen rocked against him, milking his cock until his bollocks were empty, and he collapsed on her, utterly spent.
Her “oomph” made him roll away. He took her with him, a hand on her buttocks to maintain their connection.
They remained that way for several moments, embracing but silent. Cededa threaded his fingers through Imogen’s hair, relishing the feel of her body against his, the slippery clasp of her inner muscles on his softening cock, as if her body sought to keep him inside her a little longer. Her position and the fall of her hair hid her face from him. Her hand rested lightly on his hip, the other tucked under his hair to rest warmly against his nape. Her breath drafted across his neck, making the Tineroth key vibrate gently under his skin. He wanted to see her expression as she lay in his arms in the aftermath of their lovemaking, but he waited, content to lie beside her and stroke her back.
Imogen finally lifted her head, gifting him with a smile that had him hardening inside her. “I think that takes care of two frescoes.” She winked. “You’ll teach me the rest, yes?”
