by Kit Tunstall
Once again, he moved to step away from her, but Anca locked her arms around his neck. “Don’t leave.”
“But—“
“Come inside with me.” She laid her cheek on his chest. “I won’t pressure you to talk about anything, if you don’t want to.”
“What do you want from me?” He sounded confused, not annoyed.
“Just hold me, Demi.” Anca held her breath, waiting to see if he would agree. Again, she wondered what had happened to her decision to be sensible and avoid any deepening relationship with him. Perhaps she was just emotionally overwrought from meeting her father and longed for comfort. Anyone would do.
Liar, her heart whispered.
“If that’s what you want,” he said after a long pause.
“Yes,” she whispered. She dropped her arms and took his hand to lead him through the wooden doors. As he fell in step behind her, she knew what had happened to her previous plan. His complete forthrightness about his feelings had left her without defenses. Before his revelation, she had wanted him, but now, her desire was even more intense.
As they entered the chambers assigned to her, Anca sensed the night ahead would change everything. The thought frightened her, but it was also exhilarating. Giving herself to Demi seemed like the most natural thing in the world, and she forgot about her fears as he closed the door behind them and took her into his arms.
Chapter 7
Demi held her against his chest without speaking or moving. Anca could hear the rhythm of his heartbeat echoing through her ear, until it mingled with her own inside her head. She closed her eyes and let him support her. She yearned for his touch, but having him hold her was almost enough.
She changed her mind when he nudged up her chin and claimed her lips. At five-eight, she was tall, but he still topped her by half a foot. He had to dip his head to kiss her, and she stretched her spine to meet him.
His lips were soft against hers, coaxing her into responding to his touch, but never demanding. He traced the plump contour of her lower lips with his tongue, and she buried her fingers in his blond hair. Anca parted her lips to urge his tongue inside, but he ignored the invitation.
Instead, he trailed his tongue down her chin to her neck. She closed her eyes and tipped her head backward as he breathed a trail across the column of her throat, to the bend of her neck where it met her shoulder. She pressed her lower body more firmly against his as he opened his mouth and breathed against her skin.
Her nipples hardened as his breath caressed her skin. She parted her legs and thrust her hips forward so she could straddle his thigh with her pussy. She rubbed it against his leg.
Demi flicked his tongue across her skin in teasing darts as one of his hands moved past her hips. He cupped her buttocks and lifted her more fully onto his leg.
Anca gyrated her hips and cried out as Demi nipped her neck. Her pussy tightened, and she moved her arms to lock them around his neck. Her legs were weak, and she didn’t think she could stand at all without his assistance.
He moved both of his hands to her hips and lifted her into his arms. “Lock your legs around me,” he said when he lifted his head.
Anca anchored both thighs around his waist. Her eyes widened as he moved to the writing table instead of the bed. As he set her on her feet beside it, she recognized the table from the vision she’d had of the two of them the night she met Demi.
He stepped away a few inches so he had room to strip off his light-blue button-down shirt. Anca’s hands went to the hem of the red sweater she wore, but his hands covered hers.
“Let me.” His voice was husky, and his cheeks had flushed pink. “I want to reveal you an inch at a time.”
She let her hands drop to her sides. Anca waited for him to make the next move.
Demi dropped to his knees as he pushed up the sweater to her midriff. He buried his face in the flesh of her stomach and, once again, teased her with quick flicks of his tongue.
Anca anchored her hands in his hair, as her pussy grew more slippery with her arousal. Her body reacted instinctively to his proximity, preparing for his mouth to explore her pussy.
Instead, Demi moved upward, slowly rising from his knees as he pushed up the sweater and followed its path with his mouth.
She raised her arms for him to pull it off, and then stood in front of him in her pants and bra. Anca’s swollen breasts pushed against the cups of her red bra, and her nipples were so hard they ached. “Please,” she whispered, cupping one of her breasts in her hand, offering it to him. She traced the outline of the nipple with her finger.
Demi moaned, and his hands shook when he pushed the straps down her shoulders. His hands moved to her breasts. He paused briefly to touch the pendant nestled in the valley of her breasts. It glowed with golden glints. His fingers stroked it reverently before he returned his attention to her breasts.
Anca started to release her breast, but Demi cupped his hand around hers, pushing her hand more firmly into her soft flesh.
“What do you feel?”
She bit her lip, struggling to form coherent words as his other hand stroked her neglected breast through the silk cup. When he tweaked her nipple, she almost forgot how to speak. It was only when he pressed her fingers against her nipple again that she remembered his question.
“Pleasure,” she said with a moan.
Demi shook his head. “How does your breast feel?”
She closed her eyes to capture a description. “Soft, but firm.” Her voice was low, and she wondered if he could hear her. He circled her hand around her breast. “The bra is silky. It feels good rubbing against my nipple.”
Demi moved her palm to cup the tip of her breast. “The nipple, Anca?”
“It’s tingling with need.”
He chuckled. “What does it need?” As he asked the question, he pushed down the cup on her other breast and stroked her nipple with his thumb and forefinger.
Anca groaned. “That,” she managed to force out. “You.”
He released her hand, letting it fall to her side. His fingers were steady when they moved to the clasp at her back and unfastened the bra. He pulled it away slowly and tossed it over his shoulder to join the sweater.
Her breasts were barely exposed before his hands replaced the bra and covered them. Each callous on his hands pressed into her soft flesh, exciting her nerve endings. He pushed his thumbs against her nipples with enough pressure to cause her pussy to spasm, but not enough to hurt. He moved his thumbs in slow circles, brushing the rough skin of his pads against her sensitive peaks.
Anca couldn’t hold back a cry of pleasure. She couldn’t summon the ability to care if a servant heard them making love.
Remembering the vision, she arched backwards until her back touched the writing table. Within seconds, Demi’s mouth followed. He pressed his lips into the valley of her breasts and opened his mouth. He swirled his tongue over her skin, and she whimpered, begging him without words to touch her throbbing nipples with his tongue.
“Impatient,” he said tenderly and moved his mouth to her right breast as he cupped her other breast in his hand. He laved the turgid peak as he applied gentle pressure with his fingers to the other bud. His tongue moved in circles over her areole, moving outward and away from her nipple before swooping back in.
Anca groaned as he bit down gently on her nipple, while squeezing the other one with enough pressure to almost hurt. It didn’t hurt though. It only made her aware of how sensitive her breasts were, and how neglected her pussy felt.
He seemed to read her thoughts, because his right hand moved from her hip to the waistband of her slacks. He undid the button and zipper in two quick motions, and then slid his hand inside the waistband, over her silk panties.
Anca’s pussy spasmed as he stroked her lips through the silk panties. She was dripping with need, and thrust her hips upward, bringing her pussy more fully against his hand. She bit her lip to restrain a cry as he suckled on her nipple and pressed his fingers into her
cleft, using the silk for added friction.
Demi moved his head from her breast to her mouth, forming a seal around her lips with his as he massaged her clit through the silk. He swallowed each of her tiny cries of pleasure as his finger explored her wet pussy through the flimsy barrier.
He slipped his hand from her breast to her navel, then lower. He pressed gently against the top of her pussy as he fingered her clit with increasing pressure.
Anca continued to arch against him. She tried to meet each stroke of his tongue on hers with one of her own, but she wasn’t able to concentrate. Everywhere he touched her, he left behind a fire, and she was about to explode. Frissons of awareness flashed from her nipples to her pussy, heightening her pleasure at his touch.
Demi’s hand moved from the top of her pussy to the waistband of her pants. He pushed them down a few inches, one side at a time, without breaking the rhythm of his fingers in her pussy. With her pants lower, he had more room to maneuver, and he cupped her pussy in his hand.
Anca ground her pussy against his palm as he pressed upward in a partially circular motion. He kept up steadily increasing pressure as she continued to arch against him. She hovered on the edge of coming. When he brought the index finger of his other hand against her clit through the silk and pressed in and around just once, she couldn’t hold back.
Her pussy convulsed and released more moisture. She pressed her swollen lips against his palm, too sensitive to continue thrusting, but enjoying his touch too much to move away. Her breasts ached as her orgasm peaked, and the convulsions faded to tiny spasms.
He was the first to break contact. Demi removed his hands and stood up to his full height. Gently, he drew her up to stand with him and pulled her close for a tender kiss. When he lifted his head, he caressed her cheek. “Did you enjoy that, meu dragostia?”
She leaned against him. “I nearly died,” she said against his chest.
He laughed, and it caused his chest to rumble. “I should leave you to rest.”
She shook her head, grinning when the light dusting of hair on his chest tickled her cheeks. “Not yet.”
“You want to continue?”
“Yes.” She bit back a yawn as a wave of tiredness swept through her. “I’ve never felt anything like that.” She lifted her head to meet his eyes. “I’ve had orgasms before, but never like that. I feel like I’m just getting started.” She was unable to block the yawn that followed her words.
Demi kissed her forehead. “But you’re near collapsing, Anca. There will be another chance for lovemaking. The first time should be slow and sensual, not hindered by your exhaustion.”
Her eyes darted to the hard bulge in his pants. “What about you?”
He shrugged. “I’ll survive a bit of discomfort.”
Anca licked her lips. “You don’t have to.”
He shook his head. “You’re too exhausted. I can’t allow you to tire yourself any further.”
She took his hand and walked to the bed on shaking legs. He followed behind her without a word. When she let go of his hand, he stood in front of her with his eyebrow quirked, staring at her. His eyes widened as she pushed off her pants and panties. “Your pussy is smooth.”
She nodded. “I like to swim, and I don’t like hair showing. It’s just as easy to have it all waxed.”
Demi’s brows furrowed. “Is this a common practice in America?”
Anca shrugged. “It depends on the woman.”
His eyes remained on her pussy. He reached out and stroked it hesitantly. “I have never seen a woman with a bald pussy before. I have heard of it, and I have always been curious to touch one…to taste a smooth pussy.”
She felt a twinge of jealousy at the mention of other women. Anca kept her expression bland to keep from revealing her emotions. “Do you like it? Is it what you expected?”
“More.” Demi stroked her smooth lips once more before dropping his hand to his side. “I like it very much. It makes my cock so hard it hurts.”
Anca winked at him. “Good.” She sat down on the bed and sank a few inches into its soft depths. She was nearly eye-level with his cock, so close she could see it twitching against the confines of his pants. “We both know you’ll take care of it yourself as soon as you leave me.”
Demi nodded, without a hint of embarrassment. “Yes.”
Anca patted the soft coverlet. “I don’t want you to leave me. I don’t want to sleep alone tonight, in a strange place.”
He frowned. “You want me to stay with you tonight?”
She nodded. “I might be afraid otherwise.” She grinned up at him.
“There are guards—“
She sighed at his thick-headedness, unable to decide if it was deliberate. “Okay, forget subtlety. I want to feel your arms around me.”
He blinked, and then nodded. “If that’s what you want.”
“I want more than that, but I’m too tired.” She smiled again. “However, I’m not too tired to watch you please yourself.”
A hint of uncertainty appeared in his eyes. “Anca?”
“I want to watch you stroke your cock.” She shrugged. “I’ve always been aroused by a man pleasing himself. If I want to watch you, and if you aren’t shy, there’s no reason to be uncomfortable.”
Demi tilted his head. “I don’t know…”
She leaned forward to unzip his pants. He didn’t push her hands away, so Anca pushed them down to his knees and stroked his cock through his sensible white briefs. It jumped against her hand, and she could feel it throbbing. “Please, Demi.”
When he remained silent, she looked up at him through the veil of her lashes. His expression bordered on pain. When she trailed her nails against the head, he drew in a ragged breath. She grew bolder by his continued silence and slipped his cock from his briefs.
He stood there as rigid as a statue, while his cock jutted toward her, begging for her touch. Anca leaned forward a little more and kissed the head. His fluid smeared across her lips, and she looked up to ensure he was watching. She flicked out her tongue and swirled it around her lips slowly.
He swallowed audibly, and his cock seemed to harden in her hand. Anca reached for his hand and brought it to his cock. He cupped it without her urging.
“What do you feel?” she asked, repeating his earlier question.
Sweat beaded his upper lip, and he cleared his throat. “Smooth skin, hard, aching…” He trailed off and began stroking his cock.
Anca’s sated body stirred with arousal again as she watched his hand engulfing the length of his cock. Her lips parted when he paused to softly stroke the V where all the nerve endings met.
Her eyes moved up to his face, and she smiled at his expression. His eyes were closed, his head was tossed back, and he was biting his lip. She returned her gaze to his stroking hand and, as he increased the tempo, her pussy spasmed.
He moaned low in his throat and squeezed his hand around the base of his cock. After a long second, he stroked upward again, moving slowly. His thumb caressed the corona of his cock, and he arched his hips.
Anca could see the way his muscles tightened, and she knew he was close. As he tightened his grasp and stroked downward, she cupped his balls in her hand. While she stroked them, she leaned forward and put her mouth around the head of his cock. Hot spurts of fluid filled her mouth, and she swallowed them as she continued caressing his balls.
Demi had stiffened when she put her mouth on him, but now he surged forward. He buried his other hand in her hair to hold her against him as he squeezed the last drop of arousal from his cock.
His cock softened in her mouth, and Anca eased away once he loosened his grip on her hair. She propped her chin against his hard stomach and stared up at him. It should have felt awkward, or maybe even embarrassing, but all she felt was a surge of tenderness that he had shared something so personal with her.
Her pussy ached with desire, but she was too tired. Anca caressed his buttocks with her hand, waiting for him to speak. He d
idn’t seem inclined to break the silence, so she said, “I know what I’ll be dreaming about tonight.”
He lifted a brow. “What?”
“Making love to you.” She yawned. “I’m ready for you, but I can’t seem to keep my eyes open. I’m too tired to even take a bath.”
Demi moved away from her. After he shed his pants, briefs, and shoes, he walked to the water pitcher and basin on the vanity table. She heard water splashing as he cleaned himself, and when he returned, he held a wet cloth. “Lie back.”
Tears misted Anca’s eyes as she lay back against the feather pillows and parted her legs. Never had any man been so tender with her or put so much emphasis on her needs. Until she met Demi, she hadn’t thought such men existed, outside of fairy tales and romance books.
When he finished, he took the cloth into the bathroom before returning to her.
Anca managed to roll over so he could pull down the covers on her side of the bed. After he did so, she snuggled under them and buried her head in the pile of pillows. She was vaguely aware of Demi turning off the lamp before he got in bed with her. Almost as soon as he took her in his arms, her eyes closed, and she fell into a deep sleep.
* * * * *
When Anca’s eyes opened later in the night, the travel alarm she’d unpacked and placed on the nightstand read 3:06A.M. She had set it to Corsovan time before dinner, so she subtracted seven hours to get New York time. It was eight at night to her body, so it was little wonder she was awake and refreshed.
The time difference wasn’t the only thing causing her to be alert, she realized. The blankets had been pushed aside, and there was a chill in the air. She noticed that right before she realized Demi’s mouth was at her neck, sucking softly on her skin. His fingers were stroking her pussy.
She tilted her head to look at him, but his face at her neck kept her from moving far. “Demi?” Her voice still held traces of sleep.
He moved his mouth away from her neck slightly. “I couldn’t sleep with you curled so temptingly in my arms. I’m sorry if I woke you.”
