It had the effect of flashing more cold anger across his eyes, but Geva found that she didn’t quite care — at least, until he shoved her back toward the bed behind her. The touch far rougher than he’d ever used before, sending her sprawling onto the soft furs, and when she yelped and flared up, shoving back against him, he hurled his huge heavy body down onto her, his massive clothed thighs straddling her bared hips, trapping her firmly to the bed.
“Behave,” he growled at her, as he swiftly clutched her wrists with one hand, and pinned them to the bed behind her head. “Now what shall it be? Your mouth again, or your rump?”
He was leaning over her face, too close, and he was even baring his teeth, vicious and deadly. “Answer me!” he barked. “Your mouth? Or here?”
Here.Here, with his legs already shifting again, shoving her bare thighs apart, and settling down hard and purposeful between. And then, his eyes still blazing on hers, he blatantly ground his hips up against her wide-open crease, making sure she felt that long, powerful ridge beneath his too-tight trousers.
And damn her, but Geva had stopped struggling, and a hard, hoarse moan escaped her throat. The sound far too loud, too betraying, and in return Rathgarr threw back his head and laughed aloud, rich and deep and cruel.
“Ach, poppet, this is better,” he drawled at her, as his other hand went down to his trousers, and loosened them with a few quick tugs. And oh, now that huge pulsing length was bobbing out, hovering so close over Geva’s exposed crease, dripping a string of thick white liquid down toward it…
Geva’s eyes widened at the sight, and above her Rathgarr glanced down, too — and for an instant, they’d both somehow stilled, just looking. Looking at how she was split wide open for him, her bared, swollen heat visibly clenching, again and again. As if it desperately wanted that dangling white seed, wanted to swallow it deep inside, and then perhaps the rest of him, too…
Rathgarr cursed through his still-bared teeth, his eyes glancing at Geva’s rapidly heating face with sudden bitter fury — and in another flare of movement, he grasped his big hands to both her thighs, and shoved them up and back. Pressing them almost into her shoulders, bending her nearly double, so he could —
Geva moaned again at the touch, at the shocking feel of that slick rounded head nudging just there, against her tight knot of heat. And Rathgarr laughed again, pushing her thighs back even further, trapping her beneath him, exposed and immobile and helpless…
And gods, how this looked. Geva’s thighs split wide open, pressed tight to her torso, her belly and breasts bulging up full and fleshy between them. Surely the most unflattering position one could possibly be seen in, and she felt her face flaming even hotter, her uncertainty surging — and wait, Rathgarr was looking too. Looking at her squashed, bent-double body, and — she gasped — licking his lips, as that slick, prodding heat shuddered and swelled against her.
“Better,” he said again, and when his eyes flicked back to hers, they were smug, satisfied, wicked. “Ready for more, my pretty poppet?”
Geva was inhaling in hard, reedy gulps — he liked this, he likedher— and found herself nodding. The movement rapid and fervent, earning another low, mocking laugh from Rathgarr, before his eyes dropped again. To where she could just feel that slick rounded tip of him, nocked close against her… and now pressing a little harder. Easing just slightly further inside, just beginning to open her around him…
“Oh,” Geva gasped, her eyes fluttering, her head tilting back — because despite a faint lingering tenderness from the day before, it still felt so damned good, and perhaps even easier, too. Easier to relax against him, to feel that slick, gentle prodding strength sliding deeper, deeper. Carving its way inside, opening her wider and wider around him. Around where he seemed to be throbbing fuller with every breath, with every tight answering flex of her body against him.
Geva couldn’t suppress her gasps now, or the furious, full-body shudders beneath him. And as he kept sinking deeper, filling her more and more, it felt as though time had stuck, somehow, like that steady, dizzying slide of slick skin into gripping slick heat would never, ever stop —
Until it did. With Rathgarr’s solid hips pressing hard against her arse, the rest of him buried all the way inside. And oh, it felt even fuller like this, so powerful, so visceral, so unyielding, and Geva’s moan was more like a steady cry, her back arching, her body clutching and clamping on him, oh, oh…
And above her, Rathgarr’s head had tipped back, his tongue sweeping against his lips — but he was watching her again, and oh, that was more satisfaction, more cruel wickedness, in his smug blazing eyes.
“Ach, thisisbetter, is it not?” he asked, as he very slightly ground himself deeper — and when Geva cried out again, he actually laughed, his shoulders shaking. “I knew it, poppet. Knew this pleased you, last eve.”
Geva could only seem to groan and glare at him, her thoughts whirling in a stilted, stunted mess. Gods, he was awful, and gods he felt good, and why was he bringing this up about last night? Didn’t he want to keep it professional, to keep his boundaries, and she had to try, say something, anything —
“And then,” she gulped at him, her voice breaking as he ground deeper, “you threw a coin at me, and left!”
He laughed again, damn him, and then drew out just a little. The movement making Geva cry out again, her body uncontrollably clutching him, almost as if to hold him there — but the bastard just kept going, deliberate and agonizingly slow, taking this away from her, no, no —
“Ach, and this time,” he said, raising his brows as he kept moving out, away, “I have paid you before, so mayhap you shall not sulk at me over this after. Or” — his voice hardened — “pretend as though I am not even there!”
Gods damn him, he was nearly free of her now, and Geva fought down the rising surge of emotion, something that felt almost like anguish. “I was trying,” she gasped, too high-pitched, too close to the edge, “to stay professional! To do a good job for you. To — impress you, and be what you want, and earn your —”
Oh gods, oh gods, what had she been about to say — not coin, surely? — and she clamped her mouth shut, and wildly shook her head. And above her, Rathgarr was blinking at her, his head cocked, his backwards movement stilled, his strength held just at her edge…
And then, oh hell, it began to ease back in. Moving slow but sure, wrenching her even tighter around it, clinging to the stunning sparkling power of it, the sheer reassurance of it, he still wanted this from her, if nothing else, he still wanted this…
“Ach, this is what I wish,” he murmured, as he finally sank deep again, his hips grinding against her arse, his thick strength locked all the way inside. “I wish for an eager, hungry helpmate, wholongsto draw out my good seed.”
Oh. Geva felt caught, suddenly, held, pierced to stillness upon him, beneath his eyes. And he huffed a satisfied little laugh, and then shifted himself, holding back her thighs with one arm, so his other hand could slip lower. Down to — she choked and hissed — there, to her slick, swollen crease, still held wide open above where he was jutted inside her.
“I wish,” he purred, as his fingers began stroking, circling, “for a prim, proper schoolmarm, whimpering and trembling upon my touch. I wish to make her screech and squirm beneath me. Wish to feel her sucking my good fat Ash-Kai prick up her plump, tight little rump.”
Oh hell, Geva’s moan was almost a cry again, her body reflexively clamping against him — and then wrenching all over at the feel of a strong finger settling close, slipping a little inside.
“I wish,” he breathed, as his hips ground tighter, his finger sinking deeper, “to feel her come undone for me. Wish to taste the strength of her joy for me, whilst she milks out my good seed, andscreamsmy name.”
His voice was a husky heated hiss, crashing up against the teasing taunt of those fingers, against the fierce inexorable invasion of him deeper below. Grinding in even harder, swirling up swarms of sheer screeching sensation, and she was swelling, surging, cresting to the edge —
