He slid his hand between her legs, cupped her and worked her in several brisk, drawing movements so that the orgasm was simply there. She released a long cry and he kept working her, kept suckling her nipple, and the potion now had her entire breast on fire. He brought her again and again.

She’d eaten two strawberries, sipped her champagne three times, and the man had made her come. She had the truly unholy thought that for these skills alone, she ought to complete the breh-hedden with him.

She chuckled as his hand slowed and he released her breast from his mouth.

“That was divine,” she said.

“I want your pants off … now.”

“But you’re still wearing your pants. This isn’t fair.” She smiled.

He just growled at her and dipped his chin.

She chuckled.

She thought he would simply fold her jeans off, but instead he did this part the old-fashioned way: button, zipper, and alternate tugs at her hips. He leaned down at the same time and kissed his way across her lower abdomen with each tug, from hip to hip.

I’m getting very hungry, he sent.

Then you should definitely have something to eat.

I wish to eat until I am completely satisfied.

But will the strawberries be enough? she teased.

He tugged her pants down and kissed the uppermost line of her pubic hair, then kept tugging. You will soon see just how much the strawberries will sustain me.

Certain images slipped through her mind. Did he mean? Could he possibly mean?

Her hips bucked at the thought and he chuckled as he drew her pants down her buttocks and thighs. He stood up and pulled them off the rest of the way. He looked down at her then looked inside the jeans. “You went commando?” he asked.

“I thought it only fair.”

His smile was slow this time. He started to sit down, but she lifted a hand. “No. You promised and now I’d like you to do it slow. Let me watch.” For good measure, she sent, You have the most amazing body.

His smile was crooked this time as he unbuttoned then slowly unzipped. Yep, no sign of briefs, just his skin and then his thick animal hair that always made her sigh. He was fully erect, which meant he had to move the jeans around to get them down and off.

She enjoyed the show. He was big; when he was on his back, his erect cock reached his navel. Right now he held it in his hand, a very loose support. She looked up at him and saw that he was waiting for her to make the next call.

This time she smiled. “I’d like one of the strawberry halves, please.”

He looked at the plate and picked up one for her. She held out her hand.

“Come closer,” she said. “Very close. Put your knee on the lounge and lean your hips as close to me as you can.”

He was very obedient. She rubbed the strawberry over the tip of his cock and then the crown. Afterward, she put the strawberry to her lips and with her tongue pulled it into her mouth.

He groaned.

“Now feed me,” she said. “And I don’t mean another strawberry.”

He braced his hands on the back of the sofa and moved into her, his hips flexing as she parted her lips. He pushed himself into her mouth then pulled back. She put her arms and hands on the back of the couch. He continued to push then withdraw. She sucked both ways but fixed her gaze on his eyes as he looked down at her.

Everyone has secrets,

Especially those who have passed from this world.

—Collected Proverbs, Beatrice of Fourth

Chapter 16

What was it about the mouth of a woman that so pleased a man, to have his cock thrusting in and out, to feel the pull of her suckles, to watch her cheeks flex, to see the cock disappear then reappear.

He was moved by her willingness, but he had her in a cage of his body and he was worried. Do you feel trapped?

No, she responded.

Good.

He threaded his fingers through hers and moved in a little closer so that she could take him deeper.

She drew her hands out of his and he pulled away, fearing that he had pushed too hard, but she grabbed his buttocks and dug her nails in then brought him toward her. He hissed.

Mon Dieu.

That she savored him and wanted him and dug her nails into his flesh—it was too much suddenly. You must stop, he sent.

She released the sucking motion but still held him within her mouth. I love you here, she sent.

He did not move. He could not, otherwise he would spill into her and he did not want this night to move so fast.

But he took his hands and drifted them down the sides of her head to her neck, then touched her cheeks with the backs of his fingers. I love that you take me in your mouth.

Slowly, he began to draw back. He was stiff and so close. She seemed to understand. When he was fully out, she smiled. “You almost came.”

He nodded. “Too soon, chérie.”

She relaxed back into the cushions and sighed. “I’m so happy right now. Thank you for this, for the strawberries and the champagne. I love you for that.”

But the moment the words left her mouth, a blush climbed her cheeks and her gaze fell away, as though embarrassed she had spoken the words. Did she love him? Did she love him as he loved her, in that tender way?

“I don’t want to make too much of this,” she added, her gaze again shifting to look up at him.

He sat down beside her. “It is for the best to keep everything very simple, but, Fiona, I do love you. I cannot say how deeply, but I care so much about you. I wish you to know that.”

She tilted her head. “I feel the same way. You are very dear to me. I truly wish that our situation was different, that there wasn’t a war or dimensional worlds or all this horror.”

He petted her head again. “So tell me, how is the potion in your breast?”

“A wonderful fire.”

“Do you wish for more?”

“All that you can give me.”

“Bon. But, I need you in a different position.” He held his hand down to her, she took it, and in an easy motion he lifted her to her feet. He meant to lay her out on the couch in a different way, but the moment she stood next to him, he opened his arms and she pressed herself against him, her arms around his waist. She was just tall enough that the top of her head came to his chin.

She fit him. That is what he thought. She fit him so perfectly.

After a moment, he released her but only enough so that he could slip an arm behind her knees, lift her up, then move to settle her low on the lounge.

I am so hungry, Fiona.

You must eat, then.

Oui.

He shifted to the end of the lounge and moved between her legs. A soft whimper left her throat and he smiled. She had lifted up to support herself on her elbows. He slid his arms beneath her legs then, still holding her gaze, he kissed her low, and licked between her folds.

She threw her head back.

He did not wait, but with his fangs struck her at the top of her clitoris and released a potion. He had to hold her down with his arm because her body reacted with a long writhing wave that bowed her back. She cried out, contorting. “Oh, God. So good. So good.” Her voice was a series of breathy punches.

He smiled and relaxed as he withdrew his fangs.

She grunted low in her throat. He looked up at her. Her face was twisted as if in pain, but he knew it was not pain she felt. He teased her with the tip of his tongue, flicking over every sensitive part of her until her hips pushed hard against his arm over and over.

He removed his arms from beneath her legs. He needed his hands free for what he wanted to do next.

He folded one of the large strawberries into his hand. “Fiona,” he called to her softly. “I am so hungry.”

She looked down at him wild-eyed, and when he held the strawberry up she gave a little cry. He dipped low and at her opening he swirled the whole fruit, swirled and pushed, just a little. He loved the cries she made.

He removed the strawberry. Look at me, he commanded.

Again, her gaze was panicky. He held the strawberry in his left hand high enough that she could see it. She was breathing hard and so very close. At the same time, he carefully slipped two fingers inside her and began to work her body, in and out. More whimpers.

He then he put his mouth around the strawberry. She cried out and at the same time he shifted to work her with his fingers.

When he bit the strawberry, the juice flowing down his chin, as he held her gaze and drove into her with his fingers, she came screaming for him, writhing as he pistoned his hand and brought her. The broken fruit he rubbed on her stomach so that she came and came and came, her hands on his hands, her fingers exploring his mouth, her body riding the waves of ecstasy, on and on, until finally she began to settle.

But her body jerked and twitched. She was breathing hard yet her face looked relaxed, her lips curved in a satisfied smile. It took him several mental gyrations, but he brought a damp washcloth into his hands and wiped all the juice off her stomach and anywhere else.

“I have a gift for you,” he said.

Her eyes were closed and her hands resting at her sides as she laughed and said, “You just gave me a gift. Several in fact.”

But he rose up. He crossed to the kitchen and washed all the sweet juices, hers and the strawberry, from his hands and his lips. He left her lying there, sprawled and at ease. From the table in the entry, across from the piano, he retrieved what he hoped would give her a different kind of pleasure.

The gold box was very light.

But when he returned she had shifted position. She lay on her side facing the fire so that her body was outlined in the soft flickering light. He loved this view of a woman, with the dip of her waist accentuating the swell of her hip. She was beautiful from behind and he loved taking her in that position, but for what he had in mind next, he doubted he would have the opportunity. In fact, he hoped he did not, but this would be up to Fiona.

He moved to kneel in front of her. She looked so beautiful in the soft light, her lips swollen, her eyes lethargic. She put her hand on his face and rubbed her thumb over his lower lip. Her gaze fell to the square box.

“You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Oh, but I did, for I believe you asked for this most specifically. It would have been very thoughtless of me not to have bought you such a gift.”