His song moves across and around my body from the top of my head to the soles of my feet as surely as if he were running his fingertips across every sensitive part of me.
My neck. My shoulders. Between my breasts. Over my curves. Across my hardened nipples. Down my stomach. Inside my thighs. Up and over my folds. But not yet across my clit, where I ache for his song to ease my need.
As he reaches my side, his melody grows more forceful.
Pleasure builds in my pelvis, another layer of heat untwining between my legs, sensation brushing my inner thighs, this time not only igniting pleasure, but coaxing my legs apart.
The touchless sensations draw moans to my lips, his every inhalation and exhalation now making me rock where I grip the edge of the bath.
His melody plucks at me.
Slipping between my legs again.
Finally, stroking across my clit.
My deep, needy groan brings a satisfied smile to his lips.
The Lethian threads respond, peeling away from my calves, my stomach, and my shoulders, leaving only my pelvis and breasts covered as they coil into the air beside me, forming a cloak ofsilver.
A single thread wraps around my left wrist, connecting me to the portion floating in the air beside me.
The beat of Stellen’s song grows gradually faster, and the sensation pressing against my clit intensifies, leaving me whimpering.
With the softest touch, Stellen runs his finger down the length of my spine starting at my shoulder blades before he pauses at the back of the corset still clinging to my torso.
Those threads don’t resist, collecting against his finger and peeling away from my breasts, gentle sliding sensations.
His hand continues down my spine, reaching my lower back, where with a swift step, he rounds behind me, gathering the threads covering my pelvis, tugging them away from me.
Leaving me completely naked but for that single thread wrapped around my left wrist.
I’m completely at Stellen’s whim. I’m in a more vulnerable position than I ever thought I’d allow myself to be. Maybe I should feel threatened, but I don’t.
I feel safer than I have for days.
Carefully, Stellen pulls my backside against him, his hands on my hips, my core pressing to his hard length with a tormenting slowness.
He’s still wearing pants. He hasn’t taken them off. But they’re barely a barrier between our bodies.
Giving in to my instincts, I straighten my arms even further and press into him, my core pushing more tightly to his cock, the pressure only heightening the heat between my legs.
A need I’m desperate to quench.
Before I can reach back and tug at his pants or voice what I want, his thumbs brush up across my backside and to my lower back.
More pleasure spikes through my body as he leans over me, his arms wrapping around my waist, sliding up across mybreasts, barely brushing my hard nipples before he draws me up into a standing position, my back to his chest. One of his arms remains around my waist; the other angles across my shoulders.
A protest leaves my lips when his humming ceases. “Don’t stop.”
“Thyra.” His voice is soothing, but it only serves to send another shot of heat to my core, my wetness maddening. “I’d love to fuck you that way, but I want to see your beautiful face when you come.”
His palm slips to my breast, a slow, swirling touch, dragging a groan to my lips. “I want to kiss your lips and inhale your moans.”
Turning me to face him, he keeps his arms around me.
“You said you wanted a bath,” he says. “You should bathe before I lose my mind.”
I exhale, pushing the air from my chest, attempting to expel the ache demanding release, an ache that isn’t going anywhere, not when the melody of his voice clings to me, body and soul.
