Annoyingly, it starts to work, and I feel myself leaning into him even though I don’t want to.
‘Are you going to tell me why you were in the Mountain?’ he whispers.
‘I can’t,’ I say after a moment, and he sighs.
‘At least it isn’t a lie.’
I think he’s disappointed and prepare myself for more wrath, but then he shifts, putting my legs around his waist and opening me to him.
‘Good girls who tell the truth are rewarded,’ he growls.
My eyes widen as I look up into his, but he just pulls me closer and against his very hard length.
‘Rub yourself against it.’ He murmurs the order, and I shake my head a little.
So, he does it for me, picking me up and grinding my clit against his shaft.
My mouth parts on a gasp, and he seizes it, his tongue mingling with mine as he moves me against him.
This isn’t exactly what I’ve been craving, but it’s close enough, and without even really realizing it, I begin rubbing myself against him.
It feels so good!
My climax isn’t an explosion or a thunderclap but a subtle pleasure that rolls through me, making me whimper as I bury my face in Krase’s neck.
‘Good girl,’ he grunts, and I practically feel the energy of my orgasm go through him, feeding him.
My movements still, and I pull away to look at him. His eyes are closed, and his head is thrown back. Between us is sticky, and I look down to see that he came as well.
What am I doing?
I scramble up, but his arm shoots out, and he grabs me, hauling me back to him.
He gives me a rueful look. ‘Sorry, it’s been a while.’
He ignores my attempts to extract myself from him and instead lays me on my back on the bed.
‘Stay,’ he mutters as he goes into the bathroom.
I sit up with a huff, but he comes straight back with a washcloth. He pushes me back down and cleans me up while I frown at him.
‘I can do that,’ I say.
Another grin like he’s humoring the human.
‘I know you can,’ is all he says.
He leaves me again, throwing the cloth into the bathroom and opening the top drawer of his bureau. A second later, a slinky, fire-engine-red dress drops onto the bed. Designer. Expensive.
I eye it and quirk my brow at him.
‘It’s all I have in here that might fit you,’ he says, glancing at the door.
I grab it and throw it over my head. The chest is a little tight, but a cowl neck hides any bulging. It’s long with a slit up the side, but it mostly fits.
I run my hands down the satin.
‘Who’s was this?’ I ask, not liking the jealousy I feel.