It’s nearly too much. Her touch, the wicked gleam in her eye as she glances up at me through thick raven lashes.
I can’t answer her, can’t speak. Can’t do anything to calm the fire in my veins.
“Rhett,” she whispers, lowering her gaze and brushing her lips over my hip, my knot, the side of my shaft, parting them and moving to take me into—
“Stop,” I grate out, and Joan freezes.
“I’m sorry,” she says, pulling back. “Did I do something wrong? I didn’t mean to—”
“No.” I thread my fingers into her hair, holding her a few inches away from my cock, breath ragged. “No. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Then why did you—”
“I don’t want this to be… over too fast.”
Her face melts into understanding, tinged with just a hint of self-satisfaction, and it brings an unlikely smile to my lips.
Fine. Let her know the extent of her power over me. It should be no secret at this point.
“Such a wicked little witch, aren’t you?” I murmur, and the spark in her eyes is just as bright as the flames in my blood. “Do what you will with me, then.”
Instead of returning to her relentless efforts to dismantle me completely, Joan pauses for a moment, turns her head, and runs her lips over the inside of my wrist where I’m still holding her.
“Tell me,” she says. “If I do something wrong, or do anything you don’t like. Just… tell me.”
“If that’s what you’re concerned about, you’ll be waiting centuries, little mate.”
She laughs softly, presses one last kiss against my wrist, and turns her attention back to my cock.
“So sensitive here, aren’t you?” she murmurs, echoing my earlier teasing.
Joan closes a fist around my knot, squeezing gently, and the shock of it makes my hips thrust forward into her grasp and a strangled groan rasp from my throat. She strokes me once, twice, tightening her grip each time she passes over my knot, and it’s almost enough to send me over the edge.
But I don’t want to come on her pretty face, at least not this time.
I want her to taste me like I tasted her. I want my seed on her tongue and coating the back of her throat. I want her to swallow me down and carry me inside her like she’s been in me from the very first time I saw her.
Tangling a hand in the back of her hair, I nudge her forward. She opens for me so obediently, so enthusiastically, relaxing her jaw and taking the full length of me.
I move my hips, thrusting gently, watching her face for any signs of discomfort or displeasure.
I find none.
All I find is more of her intoxicating eagerness, the pull of her throat convulsing around my cock, the needy little noises she makes that pulsate down my shaft and all the way to where my balls are tightening with my fast-approaching orgasm.
I move, fucking her sweet, hot mouth until it’s the only real thing in any of the thirteen realms. Nothing else exists, nothing but Joan and the pleasure we’re sharing, the absolutely exquisite torture of being inside my mate for the first time.
When I know I’m right on that edge, I tighten my grip on her hair. “Look at me.”
She does, and the heat pulsing in her gaze sends another impossible lightning-strike of desire through me. It tightens at the bottom of my spine, merciless as it throws me over, and I let out a strangled yell as I come, spilling into her.
Joan swallows every drop, keeping her eyes fixed on me through each devastating wave of my climax. She works me with hand and mouth, squeezes my knot, drawing out the pleasure until my knees buckle and I stagger back, sinking heavily onto the mattress. I reach for her, tugging her up and sprawling her out on top of me.
When she settles, she lays both her hands palms-down in the center of my chest, fingers interlaced, and rests her chinon them as she peers at me with triumph written all over her beautiful face.
“How was that?” she practically purrs, eyes glowing with mirth when all I can do is groan in response.
With more strength than I knew I still possessed, I settle us both at the head of the bed, rolling onto my side and pulling Joan close.