Page 40 of Vicar
Vicar put a finger to her lips and shook his head. “The time to stop has passed.” He cupped her cheek tenderly, assuring her he was still all Sigdir. Yet she knew his Múspellsheimr side was right there simmering beneath the surface. Taking notice. Eager to join the fun. “If your other half surfaces too much, I’ll stop.”
Which told her he wasn’t opposed to her surfacing a little. Just enough to enjoy her naughty side. They knew it was risky, but any further argument died on her lips when he fondled then sucked on her nipple. She groaned, lost in the sensation until he nipped, and she jerked away.
She wasn’t sure what turned her on more. Being unable to stop him or the way he looked at her when she fought the chains. When fire flared in his eyes at her vulnerability. Her exposure. Desperate to assuage the horrible ache that had blossomed between her thighs, she pressed against him. Wanted her pants gone. Needed him to touch her throbbing flesh.
“Patience, little dragon,” he said so softly, so teasingly, the dull ache of her arousal became a raging blaze of need. If that weren’t enough, he pulled off his tunic and tossed it aside, finally giving her an eyeful of his glorious upper half. And it was everything she imagined. Chiseled and well-muscled with a light smattering of hair over the massive triangular tribal tattoo on his chest.
She could barely catch her breath when he wrapped his large hands over her backside and ground against her ever-so-slightly. Just enough to ramp her up even more while he slid the stone out of her pocket and strapped it to her arm. It wasn’t a quick tie-off either but a slow, excruciatingly erotic one where he came close enough that she felt the contact of his warm chest against her breasts. His sizeable erection against her pulsing center.
On a mission to torture her, he finally finished tying off the stone. He didn’t rip off her pants but took off her boots then slowly pulled them down. Inch by painful inch, he followed in the wake of the material, licking and nipping his way from her hips to the tips of her toes.
By the time he made his way back up, she was writhing with need. When he growled with approval at the swollen flesh between her legs and licked his lips, she knew exactly what he had in mind.
And, not surprisingly, he didn’t disappoint.
“Oh, my...” Her head fell back, and she clamped her teeth down hard on her lower lip when he didn’t just sample but devoured her. He was more aggressive than anyone she’d been with, and she liked it. Loved it. From the masterful way he manipulated her with his tongue and teeth to the pleasure mixed with pain he invoked. Not a lot of pain. Just enough. A nip here, a pinch there. He was so good at what he did that when he pressed a finger inside her, she started to come undone, but he pulled away before she could.
“Don’t go,” she gasped, teetering on the edge. In pure agony.
“I’ll do as I please.” He twisted his hand in her hair rough enough to still her and magically did away with his pants and boots. “And you’ll do as I please.” He shook his head. “You won’t let go until I’m inside you and I tell you that you can,ja?”
There was no mistaking the dark promise of punishment in his eyes if she disobeyed, nor his inner Múspellsheimr struggling wildly to get to the surface. To be in charge. And there was certainly no mistaking how much both sides wanted her. It was obvious in his long thick erection. Not only could she see it but felt how painful it was becoming.
“Ja?” he repeated when she didn’t answer. He shifted even closer and angled her head until she had no choice but to look at him. “You don't give in until I give you permission.”
“No,” she whispered, wondering how she would manage that. She was far too turned on, convinced the moment his hard hot length grazed her skin, she’d be done for.
Yet something inside her obeyed, enslaving her on the edge of release when he continued what seemed a slow, methodical attack on her senses and rubbed himself against her. Taunted and teased until she begged.
“No,” he warned. “Not until I’m inside you.” He shook his head. “And not until I say so.” Just enough Múspellsheimr flashed in his eyes to both frighten and arouse her even more. “If you do, you won’t like what happens next.”
Unwilling to find out what that was, she gave a small, accepting jerk of her head.
“I don’t know.” He narrowed his eyes. “You don’t seem very convincing.”
She imagined she didn’t, but it couldn’t be helped.
“I’ll wait,” she said as dutifully as she could manage. “I won’t let go until you give me permission.”
While she resented it, she also relished it. Liked that he ripped away all choice. All control.
Either he trusted the submission he saw in her eyes, or his own self-restraint had finally snapped because he, at last, eased into her. Filled her in a way that felt not just physical but emotional. Physically, it was exquisite. Every nerve ending came alive. Emotionally, it was overwhelming. As though a piece of her that had long been missing clicked back into place. Made her whole for the first time in a long time.
He felt it too. All of it. She could see it in the tortured bliss on his face. Feel it in his thoughts. In his very soul. He had done this to her before. Not much. They hadn’t had that kind of time. But at least once...
“Just that once,” she whispered, pained by the revelation. Heartbroken when she realized. “We only had that one night together.”
But they had made it last, utilizing every second of every minute. She couldn’t recall all the details yet but knew she would soon enough.
He didn’t respond but fully seated himself, cupped her cheeks, and kissed her so passionately she would have let go had he not growled into her mind to stop. He hadn’t given her permission. Miraculously, despite being convinced she couldn’t fight an orgasm, she did, not wanting to risk what might happen if she didn’t. While she knew he’d never hurt her, there was a certain thrill in the fantasy. And it was just that. Fantasy.
A damn effective fantasy because when he grabbed her hips and began moving, she had no idea how she didn’t scream into climax. It was there, roiling beneath the surface, torturous in its intensity, but she kept it down. Kept it repressed as such intensifying pleasure ebbed and flowed through her, she never thought she’d make it. And she almost didn’t when he moved faster.
Deeper.
Rolled his hips.
Drove her to the precipice.
