Using the strength of her thighs and upper body, she began to pump herself slowly on his length. Up and down. Stroke after stroke. Not permitting him to move so she could watch the response build in a hard quivering that jerked all the pleasing muscles of his upper body and his thighs, a response she could feel vibrating through her, adding to the sensations she was experiencing. Water rolled over his upper body, sculpting the pectorals, the curved biceps. She wanted to suck the water out of his collarbone, brush her cheek along the side of his wet throat.
"You have a marvelous cock. " Her voice had gone throaty, and she saw his arms tighten in reaction to it. His cock grew even harder inside her, making her gasp. She felt the soft brush of his testicles against her ass as she moved. His buttocks were clenched beneath her heels. His gaze was on her face, moving down her throat, lingering on the way. The pink lace clung to the curves of her breasts, her nipples now sharp points. Down the slope of her stomach to her stretched sex, joined with his, the silk of the panties and the movement of the water interfering with the view but not dampening his absorption in the distorted picture.
"I want to touch you, " he said, his voice a growl caressing her nerve endings. It alone made her pussy ripple on him. In the flex of his jaw, the flare of his eyes, she knew he felt it. "That's what you want, too. "
"Don't tell me what I want, servant, " she responded lightly while her heart hammered against the wall of her chest. "You stand still while I fuck you. That's all I've given you leave to do. "
It was wrong, she knew it was. He'd invited her into the water. When he'd touched her foot and moved between her legs, she'd looked at the beads of water rolling down his body and wanted to kiss every drop. She wanted to lift her chin and let him suck the moisture from her throat as well. Take her under and take over, and she couldn't do that. She had to do it this way, even as she knew she wasn't fulfilling either of their desires. But it would get some hormones out of the way. A clear head was the most important thing.
The orgasm was rolling up, making her lower body rigid. She squeezed him hard, milking his cock with her inner muscles, and heard him curse. "You'll come for me, " she managed. "At the same time I come. "
"No. Not like this. "
"Any way I wish. That's what you must learn. You have no will. No choices but what I give you. "
Oh, God, the sensations were swamping her. She wanted so much more. But this was what she could have. What she could handle.
The climax was a brutal shove over the edge of an abyss. Emptiness yawned below but she took what it could offer, pulling him with her with her skill, hearing him snarl in frustration as he let go, his body shuddering, his feet trying to hold them steady as the physical response unbalanced him.
The heat of his semen jetting seared her, took her up even higher. She pistoned her hips on him hard and fast now, drawing out his climax as well as her own, gasping out her pleasure, the rippling spasms passing through tender flesh.
When she opened her eyes, his chest was rising and falling with the exertion, his hands still laced on his head, his gaze burning on hers. He was beautiful, every muscle etched out with his tension, a powerful male animal held only by her will. She withdrew from him, reaching down to rearrange her panties back over herself. As she thought of their fluids mingling in her body and the water, the thought made her flush. "If you can't look at me with respect, you won't look at me at all, " she said sharply. "Lower your gaze. "
"Make me. "
She'd pushed him as far as his pride could stand, apparently. She turned her back on him, moved toward the edge of the pool. Damn him. Damn Thomas. Damn this emptiness in the pit of her belly even as her cunt wept with a desire only sated physically. Damn herself for a fool.
"Goddamn it. . . "
A splash of water as he lunged, caught her wrist, turned her around. She could have resisted him, but when he slid his arm around her waist and brought her up hard against him for the kiss she'd denied them both, she didn't. He lifted her off her feet, her toes brushing his calves as he held her by the nape and the waist, his palm pressing against her hip and buttock. When he covered her wet lips with his own, she tasted chlorine and man, cooler pool water mixing with the heat of his mouth.
She didn't put her arms around him. They rested in the water on either side of her, her whole weight held by him until he guided her thighs up around his hips, taking her back into a position where she was wrapped around his body, his buttocks under her calves, heels pressed to his thighs.
"Hold me, my lady, " he muttered against her lips. "I won't betray your trust:"
It wasn't about that. It was about him learning what the limits of their relationship were, a difficult obstacle for almost any servant. Most vampires gave their servants more time to learn it, to understand that the relationship was something different from anything defined in the mortal world, but she would be asking a great deal of him very soon, and he had to learn it now. She had to hammer it into him on every interaction.
But was he partly right? Was her concern a facade for her unwillingness to open her heart again? It was not inappropriate to be fond of one's servant, to show him physical affection.
When he lifted his head, he kept his intense gaze close to her face so it felt as if his eyes had a power to touch her like his fingers, only deep below the skin.
"Jacob, we're not lovers. We never will be. You serve my needs. Do you understand that?" She had to force the words out when all she wanted was for him to cover her mouth with his again, his tongue testing the sharpness of her fangs.
"Serving your needs fully is what I intend to do. It's my only desire. "
She glanced at him sharply, but she didn't let him go. Instead, her hands curled around his neck under his wet hair, her fingertips playing along the steel cords of his shoulders. "Thomas should have made you understand what that means far better than he did. "
"He knew. . . " Jacob paused, and Lyssa wished she couldn't tell how honest he was trying to be with her, to give her information without hurting her. "Time was short, my lady! He said he was teaching me what he was most suited to teach. "
"Like manicures. " Her tone was brittle even to her own ears. "Oh, Thomas. "
"Your proper care was his primary concern. "
"As opposed to his life. " Her fingers clenched, her nails digging into his flesh, seeking to give pain to balance her own.
"Will denying yourself true pleasure with me change that?" Jacob's hands increased their pressure on her hips. "Change anything other than your happiness?"
Happiness was irrelevant at this point. Pushing out of his arms, she backed to the edge of the pool and turned away from him, closing her eyes. She stiffened as his hand touched her waist, slid around her from behind. His cheek rested against her temple as he enclosed her in the warmth and strong shelter of his body. Nothing sexual, just a connection of flesh to flesh. "What are you doing?"
"Comforting you, my lady. " His tone, ever patient, telling her what to anyone else would be obvious. But people did not offer her comfort.
She leaned back into him, testing it out, even as her mind ordered her to leave his company. She couldn't regain her balance with him this close. Not in her current state of mind. She'd commanded armies. Run households the size of a town. Killed when killing was needed. But her woman's heart could still drive her to her knees, plant a knife between her shoulder blades.
"You wouldn't serve me if I wasn't like this, " she said suddenly, desperately. "You wouldn't want to be with me at all. "
"I don't understand, my lady. " His fingers stroked her hip bone. "What do you mean?"
"If I wasn't beautiful. Desirable to men. "
He shook his head against her temple. "No, my lady. That's not the reason. There are many women far more beautiful. In fact, I'd say you're plain as a fence post. I've seen women with much nicer breasts. Bigger. Long legs. Fine, firm asses that make a man wish his hands were permanently glued--"
When he reached down with his other hand to apparently take advantage of his description, she shoved him under the water, held him down. Shrieked as he grabbed her legs and hips and took her under with him. She struggled, thrashed, and he brought them both up, tossing his head to get the hair out of his eyes, laughing.
"You are impossible, " she accused, even as she let him hold her about the waist as he treaded backward.
"I've heard that all my life, my lady. "
"No doubt. " She couldn't keep up with him. His moods were like the gentle waves of the tide on a shoreline, each cycle rinsing away what was left from the last one, leaving no remains to mar the next new moment. Why was it was so easy for him to slip beneath her defenses in ways even Thomas hadn't been able to accomplish?
"What are you doing?"
"Taking you past where you can touch, my lady. You'll have to cling to me, depend on me for your life. "
"I can walk on the bottom. I can't drown, " she added.
"I can pretend I'm rescuing you. "
Knowing the moment to make her point had passed, she let it go. Maybe she'd gotten it across, but he was refusing to accept it. Again, that wasn't unusual for a new servant. What was unusual was her reluctance to push the issue, knowing the time factors involved.
The dinner would be the true test. With others there, it would eliminate the trap of intimacy she kept stumbling into with him and remind her of her responsibilities. Even though she suspected it would tear something vital in herself, she had to give him the scars he would need to survive the strikes inflicted upon him in her world. She had to know how tough he truly was. But for now. . .
"I want my manicure, Sir Vagabond. "