Page 147 of Reign

His tongue passes slowly over his teeth before his mouth curves into a smile—beautiful, amused, and entirely too pleased with me.

He hooks two fingers beneath the fabric between my thighs and draws it aside, slow and deliberate. Cool air brushes over sensitive skin, and my hips shift toward him before I can stop them. “Straddle my thigh, princesa.”

I don’t hesitate.

I swing one leg over him and settle carefully onto the hard muscle of his thigh. The curved head of the vibrator presses against my clit, cool and slick, and my breath catches at the sudden contact.

My hands land on his shoulders.

Luciano’s hand settles around my waist, steadying me. The other remains near the control.

I shift experimentally, feeling the toy drag against me, and tighten my fingers against his shoulders.

“Now turn it on,” I say, looking directly into his eyes, “before I lose what little patience I have left.”

His chuckle is soft.

I meet his eyes, ready to complain, and immediately forget what I was going to say.

Terrible idea.

He’s too close. Too handsome. Too calm. His cologne wraps around me, dark and expensive, and my heart is pounding hard enough that I’m sure he can feel it beneath his hand.

My gaze drops to his lips.

“Ask nicely, princesa.”

“Turn it on, please,” I say, sweet enough to make his eyes narrow.

“Good.”

The vibration starts—low, steady, perfectly focused against my clit.

A soft sound slips out of me as my hips roll instinctively, pressing down against the toy.

Luciano’s hand tightens at my waist. “I can feel how much you want this.”

I rock against him again, chasing the sensation. “Stop looking so smug.”

“Why would I do that?”

Another pulse of pleasure rolls through me.

Annoyingly good answer.

“Let your body move, princesa. I want every honest reaction.”

The words settle somewhere deeper than the vibration.

I bite my lip, then let it go when I catch him watching.

“Easy for you to say,” I breathe as I find a particularly good angle. “You’re not the one riding a vibrator on the Devil’s thigh.”

He smirks. “You’re doing it perfectly.”

The praise strikes warm and immediate, making my next roll slower and more deliberate.

I study his face while the pleasure hums steadily through me. “You’re really going to praise me through this?”