Page 146 of Shadows and Roses

"Hmm." And she did, as easily as that.

Tugging impatiently at the strings, she unwrapped the garments he’d acquired from his House. Waiting for them to arrive had been one of the many ways he’d passed the time. He watched intently as her fingers ran over a thin, sheer, skin-tight black dress that would rip at the slightest pressure. Undergarments that revealed more than they hid, allowing access to everything. Would she put them on?

She looked into his eyes and seemed to hold her breath. Was that trepidation or anticipation? Had he misjudged? Was it too soon?

Her lips widened into a crooked smile. "Cas, you terrible man. You want me to wear this, do you? Put it on me, then."

A command he’d obey without the slightest hesitation. But…

He rose to his feet and spun her around. His fingers worked at the strings of her dress as he murmured, "I give the commands now, Anais. Do you understand?"

She shivered as her dress fell from her shoulders, pooled at her feet. "Yes. Castien, yes."

Methodically, quickly, he stripped her. Then gently, reverently, he guided her into the wispy material. He wanted to see everything, but he focused on not scratching the fabric. The wait was worth it to view her all at once.

Naked feet caught his downcast gaze. Naked, toned calves. Smooth thighs. Black silk hugged her hips, curving with her body perfectly. This garment hid nothing, touched everything. If anyone else ever saw her dressed like this, he’d be forced to tear their eyes out.

Then he met her gaze, noted her hesitation and a hint of fear. Had she never given up control before?

She slid a delicate foot slightly backward.

"Come here." His soft command.

She inhaled deeply. Stepped slowly closer.

"You're perfect," he purred. He caught her hips, running a light touch over the delicate cloth. Her skin trembled, tiny bumps rising as his fingers moved upward.

"Are you cold?" he whispered. She jerked her head from side to side.

"Good," he murmured, then pressed his lips to her stomach, licking her through the almost non-existent material. She gasped, clutching at his arms.

Tugging his arms free, he slid them under and around her, standing and lifting her in one smooth motion. She was so small in his arms, so perfectly beautiful.

He tossed her onto the bed.

She landed with a sharply indrawn breath, but she didn’t move when he began to undress. Her wide eyes followed his impatient motions, peeling off his pants and tossing his shirt away. One of her hands slid down her belly to between her thighs, but he grabbed both her wrists, stretching her arms above her head as he settled his body over hers. She twisted sinuously beneath him, uttering a small, shamelessmoan.

"Castien—"

"Shh. So impatient."

He’d held on to a strand of cloth after throwing his clothes off, and now firmly wrapped that strip around her wrists, binding her to the bed. Her hips strained to touch him.

But her fear had returned, her stretched arms tense. He stroked them gently and brushed her cheek.

"Don't let your claws cut the bindings," he offered, hoping she'd understand the reminder.

Her fingers flexed, claws testing the soft cloth. Easily torn material. Her fingers relaxed, claws lifted away, muscles loosened. The fear faded. Burying his head in her neck, he licked her too-fast pulse, teased an ear with his tongue. "Say my name," he whispered as he worked his way slowly down her body.

“Cas,” she gasped. “Umbra, I know. Gods, Castien…”

He shivered. Tasting her was a luxury. He savored every inch of half-hidden skin. His tongue on her collarbone elicited a short gasp. Barely moving, he caressed her side, her ribs, only slightly brushing the underside of a soft breast. Warm air blown over her nipple rewarded him with a pleased sigh.

He worked his way lower—a light kiss on her stomach, his fingers kneading the muscles of her back, thumbs grazing her inner thighs. Oh, he’d like to spend an eternity here. Her squirming legs were so restless.

Laughing softly, his lips brushed her hips. Left, then right, trailing a light breath in between. Her hips rose to meet his lips, her moan just slightly desperate. He licked a little lower, that valley where her legs met her body. Her moan thinned into a whimper. He smiled.

Moisture beaded at her nether lips. Holding her legs down, he leaned closer. Her perfect, sweet, musky scent curled into his nostrils, and his eyes glazed as the tip of his tongue just barely touched the delightful slickness. Just a taste.

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