She bit him again. How long had she been out? “How close are you to coming?” Her own voice had become husky.
“Close, but I can hold it off.”
She looked up at him. “You haven’t even moved.”
He smiled. “But I’m moving.” He demonstrated the truth of it by flexing inside her again. “See?”
“It’s just not fair,” she lamented, pursing her lips downward in fake drama. “Are you sure we aren’t in virtual reality and you’re just an avatar I’ve programmed in my head? What else can you do with that magic scimitar of love without actually pushing in and out like a real man?”
His laughter was low and sexy. “My magic scimitar of love?”
Drawing lazy circles around his nipple, she gave him a saucy wink. “Yeah. It’s curved. Like this. And that’s why it’s got magic powers. It’s doing it right now, tapping gently against some part of me I didn’t know was so...oh...like that. Is that all you learned from commando sex school?”
His amusement grew when she moved her arm exaggeratedly. He stretched under her like a cat. “What, you think I’m just a one-trick pony?”
Helen tried to sit up and frowned when he held her still. “You just don’t let anyone be in charge for too long, do you?”
His legs relaxed, freeing her. “Bad habit.”
That mollified her a tad. He really was trying, albeit not too successfully. It was hard, though, to sit up when her limbs felt like Jell-O. And he was still hard as a rock inside her. She glanced down at his hand idly twirling at her curls.
“You’rea bad habit,” she told him softly. “I don’t know what to do with you.”
“I really think you should continue torturing me by coming again. A suggestion, of course. It’s really driving me crazy seeing you out of control and not being able to turn you on your back and ride you.”
The image of him over her, thrusting deep and hard, stirred her libido. She shook her head. Was she never going to get enough of this man?
“I’m going to ride you,” she told him, “but you still can’t come.”
“All right.”
She enjoyed him like she’d enjoyed few men in her life—with open abundance and an impish delight in giving intimate torture. She used him to pleasure herself, sometimes deeply, sometimes shallowly, until she wasn’t paying attention to how close he was to coming any more.
His whole body was taut like a drawn bow, slightly damp from the control he was exerting on his will, his eyes half-closed as he watched her sensual journey. She leaned over, her hands on his shoulders. He opened his mouth as she teased him with her breasts but she kept them an inch above his waiting lips.
“Break for me,” she whispered. “How close are you?”
“Very close,” he whispered back.
“I want you to lose control, Jed.”
“Can I come now?”
“No.”
“Okay.” His hot breath teased her nipples.
“Bastard. You’re supposed to beg.”
His eyes were the color of a stormy sea. “Please,” he said, just like that.
“No,” she said. Heartless, that was what she was, but she was enjoying it, oh so much. She continued riding him at a leisurely pace. “I think it’s understandable that I want to be in charge of your body for a while. You don’t know what you put me through with your constant teasing.”
“Of course I do. I had to take a cold shower many a time after a session with you.”
“Seriously?” A thought occurred. “No women to take away your discomfort?”
He gave her a lopsided smile. “No, I don’t replace my women.”
