“Don’t fight me, Giacinta. Let go. Let yourself go.”
She hadn’t known until that moment that she was. “I’m afraid.”
“I’ve got you. Trust me. Give yourself to me. All of you. I’ve got you.”
His voice was harsh. Husky. Thick with a sensuality that shocked her. His eyes glittered like molten silver, moving over her face, commanding her. Soothing her. Claiming her. He didn’t stop moving. If anything, he increased the fury of the strokes, impaling her over and over, a harsh, pounding rhythm that drove her into a frenzy of need. Of lust. The sensations were so strong, the pressure building, tension coiling, so that tendrils of fear burned as intensely as passion raged.
Casimir rose above her, his face a mask of pure carnal sensuality. Lissa heard the sound of their bodies coming together in a furious symphony. Her ragged breathing and pleading gasps punctuated each savage stroke as he slammed home, again and again. She heard herself, her cries rising in direct proportion to the firestorm building until the conflagration began to consume her.
He moved his body, a subtle difference, but the hot stroke of his cock created a searing, bursting friction directly over her clit and the fire roared through her. Fast. Wild. Wave after wave. Out of control. Her sheath came alive, gripping and milking, the orgasm rushed through her, spreading like a forest fire up to her stomach, to her breasts, down to her thighs, until she had to jam her fist in her mouth to muffle her scream of sheer pleasure.
Casimir buried his face in her neck, his teeth on her shoulder as his body erupted into hot jets of seed, filling her. She was scorching hot, squeezing him like a vise, taking every drop from him until he saw lights dancing behind his eyes. Never, not ever, had his release been like this. So good. Ecstasy. She took him to a place he hadn’t known existed, and now that he did, he wanted to stay there.
He blanketed her body, knowing he was too heavy for her, but he liked her under him as he struggled for air. The feel of her silky skin melting under his was something he wasn’t quite ready to give up. He nuzzled her neck. Inhaled the combined scent of both of them. Licked the small spot behind her ear and then left a trail of kisses along her delicate jaw to the corner of her mouth.
“You’re beautiful. And you’re mine.” He allowed his Russian accent to emphasize his declaration. He felt her little gasp and eased his weight partially off of her, reluctantly allowing his body to release hers. “Are you all right?” He went to his side, staying over her, keeping her from moving. His hand swept down her body, from the side of her breast down along her rib cage and waist to shape the curve of her hip.
She looked up at his face. “I’m not sure. I could have died and you’re just an illusion.” Her soft mouth curved into a smile. “I admit, it was a great way to go. I’m still feeling it.”
He slid his hand around her thigh until his palm was inside, up close to the sweet junction between her legs. Her muscles still rippled and pulsed. He bent his head and pressed a kiss along the top of her breast. “In a minute I’ll get a washcloth and take care of you, but I’m a little worn out.”
She raised her eyebrow. “A Prakenskii? Worn out? What an admission.”
Casimir knew she was struggling to figure out what she was supposed to do. She’d never taken a lover before. She hadn’t given herself to anyone. She didn’t trust. She avoided all relationships out of necessity. He knew, because it was the same for him. No woman had ever spent the night with him. He didn’t sleep with others because he would be vulnerable in his sleep. Vulnerable equaled death in his world and in hers.
She started to slip out from under him, but the hand between her legs clamped down on her thigh. Her gaze jumped to his.
“We decided to do this thing, Giacinta. I’m not in it alone. I told you what to expect when you gave yourself to me. It was your choice. You don’t get to take that decision back, not after that.” He couldn’t keep the harshness from his voice. She wasn’t leaving his room. She wasn’t leaving him. He didn’t care if she felt vulnerable. He felt the same and she could just deal with it.
For the first time he saw indecision warring on her face. “I don’t know what to do, Casimir. I really don’t. I thought you’d want me to go to my own room. After. You know. After. I can’t imagine you let other women stay with you.”
“You aren’t other women.” He moved his hand from the warmth of her thighs to wrap his fingers around her wrist and draw her hand to him. “Lift up your palm.”