She couldn’t have that, so George pulled him into position with the help of her magic.
“Wait.” Her voice came out breathless as she forced him to the mattress. “I want— Can I—”
“Anything,” Isahn said immediately, wiggling in from the edge of the bed, a hand curling around her back to stroke her spine. “What do you want, Georgie?”
She looked at him, sprawled beneath her, eyes dark with desire, completely at her whim. “I want a turn.”
“Have at it.”
“I mean...” She traced her fingertips down his chest, her touch magic following. “I want to be in control. But I need you to tell me if it’s too much, if you don’t like something. Do you promise?”
“Promise.” Isahn caught her face between his palms. “I’m a willing participant here. More than willing. Georgie, how can I serve you?”
His assurance unlocked something in her chest, and warmth seeped into her words as she murmured, “Let me touch you. You just lie back and relax.”
She accepted control, took hold of his freely given service, and unwrapped his gift.
As she kissed him, tasting herself, slightly salty on his lips, her corporeal fingers wrapped around his solid length. Magical ones cupped his balls, explored his muscles, and even crept in between his bottom cheeks. She couldn’t feel him directly through her magic, but the pressure was there, squeezing her magic, brushing against it.
He moaned, tossing his head back, eyes closed as he relaxed into her bliss. That expression between pain and pleasure claimed his features. Lamplight glinted off his tense, chiseled jaw.
George paused, searching his face. “Still good?”
“So good,” he groaned. “Don’t stop.”
Isahn came hard and fast, spurting release up as far as his chin. For unknown reasons, she crawled over him, licking a speck of white from the cleft.
He threaded his fingers through her hair, grasping the nape of her neck, urging her to look into his eyes. It was a struggle not to drown, so she leaned in, seeking breath, seeking life in his kiss.
Tongues tangling, his free palm skimmed her nipple, skated down her side, and situated itself over her ass. He squeezed. A second hand joined his first, pulling her cheeks apart. Cool air brushed her swollen center, and she throbbed for him again.
“Sit on my face,” he said into a kiss.
Her eyes rounded, but it wasn’t a “no.”
Grabbing her hips, he urged her up, and George followed the directive, rising to her knees and crawling up his body. When her sex was over the center of his chest, he curled his fingers around from behind and swiped at her clit, teasing, back and forth, his eyes never leaving hers.
“I’m scared,” she said softly, not meaning to speak aloud.
“Of what?”
George shrugged. She wasn’t sure, honestly. It was a fleeting feeling. Perhaps a bit of everything, the reality of needing to take down her father soon, of falling for a stranger she’d taken captive, of trying new things with said stranger.
“Do you want to stop?”
“Oh, no. Not at all.”
Isahn’s eyes sparkled up at her as he slid down the bed. With his shoulders bumping the backs of her thighs, and her slit inches above his face, he grinned and said, “Hands on the wall.”
She obeyed, tilting forward to grab the bed frame as he pulled her down to meet his mouth.
Isahn probed deep into her, his chin pressed between her cheeks while his nose nuzzled her sensitive center. She wiggled, trying to lift off his face, trying to keep him from suffocating. He only let her move an inch, arms hooked around her thighs, strong hands holding her in position.
“If you don’t want to do this, tell me. If you’re only worried I can’t breathe,stop. I love this.” His words were slightly muffled, but she got the point.
Her hands tightened on the bedframe. Even now—even when she was literally sitting on him—he was checking in. Making sure she knew she could stop.
The guilt that had been coiling in her chest loosened.
