She forced her eyes to his face.
“What’s wrong?” His voice was gentle.
“I like this,” she squeaked out.
“Taking control?”
“Yes. But it feels—” She couldn’t say it.
“Cruel?” he guessed.
George flinched. “Yes.”
“It’s not the same.” Isahn pressed her hand against his chest, against his thundering heart. “Feel that? I want this. I want you to take what you need.”
“But—”
“George.” His eyes held hers. “Taking control when it’s been granted to you isn’t wrong. And you’re not cruel, you care. I can feel it in every touch.”
When she hesitated, he lifted her hand to his face, positioning her fingers around his jaw, just as her magic had been. Then he tilted his head to the side, looking staunchly at the wallpaper as he fluttered his lashes, calling attention to his gaze being anywhere but on her face.
Joy infused George as she applied (light) pressure to his chin and pulled, demanding he face her. His gaze snapped to her immediately, dark and full of yearning.
George sucked in a breath as Isahn whispered, “See, I like it. Your fingers, your magic, your mouth, any part of you.”
“You like it.” Her quiet words were tinged with disbelief.
“Yes, Princess. I like being under your control.”
Invisible energy hovered in the scant space between them, begging for an outlet. She split her magic into the equivalent of many hands and showed him just how much she cared, how much she valued him, how much he made herfeel. With ghostly fingers, she traced the shape of his toned ass while a firm magical palm wrapped around his shaft. She trailed up the planes of his stomach while sliding down his sculpted upper arms.
Do this to me, or else, she thought at him in silent command, hoping her eyes conveyed her meaning.
Isahn heard, and his magic wrapped around her, hot and steaming, as he washed away the dirt and grime from spying on the king. Her father had a way of making everyone feel filthy.
Once the great wave was over, he separated his magic into several rivulets, teasing her, exploring every inch of her skin. Soft palm-like puddles gripped at her bottom, a slender trail of cool liquid lapped her nipples, and she cried out. His spiraling, pulsing water teased the length of George’s slit before it narrowed to slide through her folds, tending to her entrance and her clit simultaneously.
“Oh,deiwa,” she gasped.
“Is this good?” Isahn’s voice was rough with desire. “Tell me what you need.”
“Don’t stop,” she breathed. “I needthis.”
His answering groan vibrated through his magic to fizz across her skin.
“Come to bed.” Again, his command held a note of question.
She loved the way he let her lead, ready to stop and step away at any moment should it be too much. It wasn’t, not even close. So George stuck her hands out for assistance.
He bypassed them, instead leaning in to palm her ass.
“Jump up,” he rumbled before pulling her earlobe into his mouth, scraping his teeth over her sensitive skin.
She nearly shattered right then, but held it together long enough to wrap her legs around his tapered waist.
His fingers dug into her softness most pleasantly. And evenmorepleasantly, his hard length pressed against her needy center.
Gripping his shoulders tightly, George rolled her hips, grinding into him, sending bolts of pleasure ricocheting through her. She pulsed, feeling more of her wetness coat his cock.
