Despite her resolution not to give him what he wanted, he lifted her skirts, teasing her inner thigh with maddening precision. Her body tightened in places of its own accord, squirming beneath him.
He brushed it against her flesh once more, then over her undergarments, before retreating.
Smirking, he pressed it against her harder.
She tensed and lifted her hips, chasing the sensation. He held it against her for a long moment. When he withdrew, she nearly whimpered.
“You are going to come for me. You are going to beg me to let you. And you are going to come only when I allow you to do so.”
It was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard of. “Caspian, I—I don’t—”
He pressed the ball firmly against her once more, and she lost her train of thought.
He lifted it away, holding it over her, barely touching her, and grazed her back and forth, drawing a low sound from her lips.
He pressed it against her, driving her to the very edge of pleasure, and then he’d withdraw. Over and over, her pleasure climbed, and he would pull away at the last moment.
He whispered another word, and the whirring grew louder.
He whispered something else she didn’t catch, and every candle in the chamber flickered to life. Caspian’s face became illuminated in soft light, his eyes gleaming.
Keeping his eyes riveted on her, he pushed her undergarments aside—slowly, as if he was daring her to stop him.
With a wicked smile, he licked his fingers and slowly brought them against her. He replaced his fingers with the orb, lightly dragging it over her.
She let out a low sound and closed her eyes.
“Look at me.”
She cracked an eye open, her breathing turning ragged as he stroked her with the orb, and she writhed underneath him.
“I want you to look at me when you come.”
She scowled. “That’s—you have some serious issues.”
His smile was evil. “That I might.”
He pressed the orb against her harder.
She tried to hold back, but her body wouldn’t listen and wanted nothing more than to crown him the victor.
“Come for me,” he ordered. And she did, exploding with pleasure beneath him. She was flung gloriously off the cliff, her legs quivering, mouth parting in a silent cry.
His gaze was intense on hers. “I think you’re not saying anything with that smart mouth of yours because you want me to do it again,” he said, unaware or uncaring that she was throbbing and sated.
He focused on her gently, helping her ride through the wave of discomfort bordering on pain from being so sensitive.
If he was determined to make her finish again and drink her shame at doing so at the hands of a demon, he was about to be disappointed. She didn’t think her body could do that again, anyway.
“I—I can’t again,” she said, breathless.
“I am going to make you think of me when you wake and when you dream,” Caspian said darkly. “And I will ruin you so that no other man can please you like I do.”
He hovered the orb over her flesh, barely touching her, the pressure feather-light.
Her hips twitched, and she tried to take the continued stimulation when her knees ached to close. Caspian, ever so slowly, stroked her with the orb.
Her body tensed and relaxed in certain places, and she writhed beneath him. He pulled back, barely touching her once more, and she lifted her hips, aching to get closer.
