“I’ve been wanting a taste of my little one all day,” he growled, before nibbling at her neck. His fingers made quick work of her gown’s fastenings, more hurried than he usually was. Buttons scattered across the floor as he tugged impatiently at her bodice.
Olivia gasped at this display of raw need. “You’re in quite the hurry,” she murmured, a hint of challenge in her voice.
His eyes darkened at her observation. “Even I have limits to my patience, Duchess.” He yanked her gown down to her waist, exposing her chemise. “And you’ve tested them all evening with every shift in your chair, every little sigh, every time you bit into your lower lip that belongs around my cock.”
In moments, he had stripped her bare, her clothes forming a silken pool at her feet. Olivia trembled, not from cold but from the intensity of his gaze, the barely leashed hunger she witnessed there. This was different from his previous possession. More urgent and primal.
Victor moved to a carved mahogany chest, producing a small wooden case inlaid with mother-of-pearl. He placed it on thebedside table before turning his attention back to her naked form.
“On the bed,” he ordered, his voice rough with desire. “Now.”
Olivia complied, her body responding eagerly to Victor’s commands. She had grown accustomed to his dominance, even craving it. In his presence, under his control, she felt both protected and free. It was a paradox that somehow made perfect sense.
Victor remained fully clothed as he sat beside her, opening the wooden case. Inside, nestled on dark velvet, lay a string of graduated ivory spheres connected by a silk cord.
“These are a special kind of beads,” he explained, lifting the item by the string. “An Eastern device for a woman’s pleasure and preparation. Tomorrow, you will wear them inside you throughout the day.”
Olivia frowned in confusion. “Inside ...?”
“Not where you think,” Victor clarified, his expression darkening with intent. “These will prepare your tight arse for my possession tomorrow night. We’ve been working up to this, and it’s almost time. With these, each movement and step you take will ready you for when I fuck you there.”
Understanding dawned, bringing with it both apprehension and unwelcome arousal. “Why are you showing me these now if I won’t use them until tomorrow?”
“So you can anticipate what I’m going to do to you.” His fingers traced a path up her inner thigh. “You can think about how you are going to stretch and prepare for me. You’re wet just thinking about it, aren’t you, little one?”
She gave him a small nod, and he narrowed his eyes at her, not satisfied with her response.
“Yes, Daddy.”
Victor moved suddenly, positioning himself between her thighs and pushing them apart with commanding hands. Before she could react, he lowered his head between her legs.
“What are you doing?” Olivia gasped, instinctively trying to close her thighs.
“I told you. I required a taste of my little one.” Victor looked up at her, surprise flickering across his features. “You’ve never experienced this?”
When she shook her head, a triumphant smile curved his lips. “I might not have made you wait so long for such pleasures if I had realized your artist was such a selfish lover. All the better. This will be mine alone.”
Before she could respond, his mouth claimed her most sensitive flesh. Olivia cried out, her back arching off the bed. She pushed aside the nagging guilt she felt at the mention of Reynolds and what she hadn’t told Victor.
His hands gripped her thighs as his tongue explored her as she’d never experienced before, finding places she hadn’t known could bring such pleasure.
“Daddy,” she gasped, the intimate title falling from her lips naturally as her fingers tangled in his dark hair.
She felt him groan against her clit, his grip tightening on her thighs at her use of the name.
“That’s it, little one,” he murmured into her opening. “I’ll be the only man who ever tastes you this way. I’ll be the one who teaches you every pleasure your body can experience.”
Olivia watched in fascination as he lost himself in pleasuring her, the sight of his aristocratic head between her thighs shockingly erotic. This was a side of Victor she hadn’t witnessed before. He wasn’t just commanding, but hungry, almost desperate in his need to claim this aspect of her.
Just as she felt herself approaching the precipice of release, Victor pulled away, leaving her gasping and trembling onthe edge of fulfillment. His breathing was ragged, his usual immaculate appearance disordered with his hair mussed from her fingers, cravat askew, eyes dark with barely contained desire.
“Not yet,” he said, visibly struggling to recover his control. “You will not find completion until you earn it.”
He was going to drive her mad. Olivia whimpered in frustration. “Please, Daddy.”
“Please what?” he prompted, one finger lazily circling her wet flesh without providing the pressure she craved.
“Please allow me release,” she begged, her pride forgotten in the face of overwhelming need.
