She stared at him a moment, unsure what he was trying to say. Then she realized…
He was afraid she would bite his dick off.
Eve, her head still pulled back, just smiled at him mischievously. Then she leaned in and took his length into her mouth, Michel groaning, with fear or pleasure or a mix of both as she did.
It was a strange sensation at first. As she took him across her tongue and back further into her throat, it felt like she would lose everything in her stomach. She relaxed her muscles, working to figure it out, and took him as deeply into her as she could. Her senses were overwhelmed with him now. His sweet scent and taste a hundred times more intense here. She pulled back and eased him across her tongue. And as soon as she pulled away, she wanted the sensation of being filled by him again. She went down once more, this time using her hand on his shaft, her saliva and his fluids mixing in a delicious, slick mess. She had never felt a muscle like this. It was smooth and velvety across the skin but hard as steel underneath. Even if she had wanted to bite him, she thought, it would break her teeth if she tried.
She found a rhythm, breathing through her nose and opening her mouth wide enough to take him all. Her jaw and her throat ached, but it was delightful soreness that laced into the other parts of her body that ached for him. She felt him trying to be passive, fighting against himself, to allow her a chance to please him. One hand still gripped the chair, the other hovered above her. She felt the balance of gentleness and savagery in him, and she knew she was dancing right across the edge.
Michel’s breath came quick and tortured. His abs flexed as his hips moved up to meet her lips. His sounds of pleasure filled the space. It wasn’t long before Michel gripped her by the hair again. “Eve,” he said, his fingers pulling roughly against her scalp. His voice cracked, and he swallowed. “I’m going to…I’m going to…”
Eve just let the devil shine through her eyes in response. She pressed her lips on him again and let her throat contract around him. Michel’s hips jerked, and he cried out. He pushed himself off the chair, his hips coming up to meet her. He gripped the back of her head and thrust into her mouth. Eve felt completely choked by him now, and if she had wanted to pull away, she realized she couldn’t. She sucked him more deeply into her, letting him force her open. Then she felt it, pulsating streams of him pouring into her, down her throat as he gasped out her name. It surprised her, the sensation and the energy with which his liquid flowed. She let her body guide her, and she swallowed him into her. She continued sucking through every moan and every jerk of his hips.
What a sensation, she thought.
Finally, his grip on her lessened, and she pulled back to look up at him, letting his still throbbing muscle slap back against his stomach as she gasped in her first full breath. She was wet and sticky all over, it seemed, as she wiped her mouth. Michel stared at her intently, in a crazed daze. He ran his fingers through her hair, panting. Then he grabbed her by the arms and pulled them both up to stand. He gripped her and held her tightly. He reached up to run his thumb across her lips while she watched his torpid eyes. They held one another like that, staring at each other, tangled emotions between them. Then, suddenly, the moment broke, and his hands were pushing wildly up her skirts.
He wanted to undress her, Eve understood. He wanted to repay the favor.
“Stop,” she said, leaning her head back as he tried to kiss her, his hands still everywhere.
He moved against her, his strong arms wrapping around her back. “But?—’
“No,” she said. “That was for you. To show you gratitude for fighting earlier.” She looked into his eyes. “For protecting me.”
“But—” he said, trying again to wrap his arms around her. “Eve,” he asserted.
“No,” she repeated. She pushed back against his chest. He let her go. She leaned down to take his clothes from the floor. She handed them to him. “Here you are,” she said. Then, without another word, she turned away.
Once again, she had to turn away quickly. Because if she let him see her face, he would see the desire and excitement tearing apart her seams. The lust she could no longer deny or attempt to hide. She had pleased him, that was for sure. It only unlocked the absolute desperation this man caused inside of her. She wasn’t sure she was ready for him to see the delighted grin she wore or the flush that stung her cheeks.
Michel was destroyed. Across the tent, Eve slept on the bed with her back to him. He was lying on his bedroll, the bed she had made for him, turned to face her. He lay in disbelief, watching her body move with each sleeping breath she took, still not quite believing what just happened.
What she had done to him had beenincredible. Instead of calming the fire inside him, though, it only enraged it even more. He had gone from having a spark of need for her, a spark he could control, to an inferno. He wanted to crawl across the room and slip under the blanket and feel her body against his. He wanted to brush her hair out of her face when she turned. He wanted to kiss her neck and then enter her dreams. He wanted to be next to her for as long as she would let him. His body had gotten just a taste. And now, he feared, he was about to form an obsession that would break apart all the armor he had forged to keep himself good and legitimate and decent, if only for the chance to get his hands on her again.
When had she decided to do that? Part of him wanted to believe that she was overcome with desire, but he was starting to know better. He was not too stupid to understand why he was being rewarded. Eve, it seemed, wanted his protection guaranteed.
Laying there, watching her, he realized suddenly that she had been grooming him. She had known there were men looking for her. She had known that she would bring danger. All the while she was his maid, she had been turning him into her guard. Eve had been manipulating him since the moment they met. To think, he had worried that he compromised her. In truth, he was the one in danger.
He cracked a grin then. And started to laugh. He’d never been affected by a woman like this. He’d had liaisons, he’d had affairs, but he had never gotten so involved he couldn’t get out when it was no longer convenient. Michel’s loyalty had always been to his family, his king, and his position. Somehow, Eve had put herself at the top of that list.
He had found a true treasure in the sand, and now he had to fight to protect it. Whatever it was that she wanted from him, she had won. But it wasn’t her gratitude he wanted. He wanted her affection. He only hoped he would have the chance to show her some of his affection as well.
As he began to doze off, he folded his arms and laughed and laughed. He closed his eyes, still grinning to himself. How easy it had been for her to take advantage of him, but he didn’t mind in the least. She had made him into her puppet. But for her, he mused, it would be an honor.
Perhaps it had been the wrong tactic to treat her like something so delicate. So, he decided, tomorrow he was going to take more.
She could handle it.
ChapterFifteen
That next morning, Michel received word that his trade contact, Johann, had returned to Bukhara. Michel set out right away to meet with him. Johann hailed as a merchant who specialized in dyes and virgin silks, but his true passion came from the curiosities he collected on his travels. He also collected gossip and knew secrets that reached across the continents. Michel had known him for many years and felt comfortable asking him candid questions.
Michel had insisted that Eve stay by his side and go with him to meet Johann. Part of him didn’t want to leave her for fear of her safety, part of him wanted to introduce her to his friend, and part of him just didn’t want to spend a second away from her, especially after last night. He shook his head again, thinking about it as they walked through the alleyways that led to Johann’s apartment. In one hand, he held a gift for Johann—his tithe—but with the other, Michel held onto the back of Eve’s dress possessively, prepared to leap out at anyone who looked at her. Luckily, the walk was uneventful, and in a moment, he was knocking on Johann’s door.
“Michel!” Johann said, pulling open the door. The short man had neat white hair and a long white beard. The coloring had made him always seem old to Michel, even though he was probably only a few years older than Michel’s father. Johann held his arms wide. “My friend!”
Michel smiled to see the man and gave him a hug. “Good to see you, Johann,” he said. “I hope your travels were profitable.”
