The fire in his eyes kicked up a couple of notches. “Did you read about that in the brochure, too?”
“No, that’s something I thought of on my own. You look like you need a little personal attention. Sit.”
An oddly obstinate look crossed his face. “I prefer to stand. It is you who will receive the personal attention.”
His hands slid up my hips to my breasts. I stopped them before they could go any farther. “I want to give you pleasure, Kristoff.”
“As I do you.” His eyes lightened a smidgen, which I was beginning to realize meant he was annoyed.
We stared at each other for a few seconds.
“I can’t believe we’re having an argument over who gets to do what first,” I said.
“Neither can I.”
A few more seconds of staring passed, while we both waited for the other person to give in.
“One of us is going to have to let the other one have her way,” I pointed out.
“Yes, you will.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You get your way an awful lot. I think you’ve used up all of your bossy points. Therefore, you will sit and I will give you a blow job so incredible, you won’t be able to think straight.”
He stood up a bit straighter. All of him. “I am a Dark One,” he declared, projecting into my mind mental images so carnal, I’m surprised the water around us didn’t start to boil. “You are my Beloved. You will bend over that rock and let me make love to you in such a manner that will not only keep you from thinking straight. You will also walk funny for a week.”
My jaw dropped at his pseudothreat. “Oh! That is so . . . so . . .”
“Truthful?” he asked smoothly.
“Underhanded! Sending me smutty images like that. Well. Two can play at that game.” I crossed my arms and thought of the most erotic acts I could perform upon his body.
His Adam’s apple bobbed a couple of times, and when he spoke, his voice was hoarse. “I did not include massage oils in my mental imaging! Or ice cubes. If anyone is being underhanded, it’s you.”
I smiled. “You want underhanded? Try this.” I dwelled in loving detail on a plan to use not only slick, warmed lotion on him, but on my breasts as well, rubbing myself along his body until he exploded with pleasure.
“Exploded?” he said, his eyes as black as midnight.
“You heard me, buster.”
He trembled with strain for a moment, just a moment, and then he had himself in control again. “This is a waste of time. Submit to me so that I may make you walk funny, and then you can explode me.”
“Boo!” I said, slapping my hands down on the water. “I want to do this for you!”
“No more so than I want to provide pleasure for you,” he said, still obstinate.
“Argh!” I yelled, thinking furiously, but the images he kept sending me about just what he wanted to do were weakening my resolve. “Oh, this is stupid,” I said, wading over to him, wiggling against his body so that my breasts rubbed against his wet, slick chest.
“Exceedingly so,” he answered, his head dipping to my neck. He breathed on the spot that never failed to send all my nerves into tingly overtime.
“We’ll both do it, all right?”
“That would seem fair. I get to go first, though.”
“You, sir, are a bully, and nothing but a bully,” I said, poking my finger into his chest. I stopped, eyed the chest, then spread my fingers along the wet skin, stroking the lovely muscled curves. He sucked in a lungful of breath. “What the hell. You go first; then it’ll be my turn.”
“Agreed.” He spun me around so that my back was to him, pushing me slightly forward so I had to catch myself on the rough lava rocks that lined our little lagoon. If you have the strength after I’m through with you, came an echoed thought.
“I heard that!” I said, but before I could protest any dirty tricks, all sane thought left my head as his teeth pierced the flesh of my shoulder at the same time he thrust hard into my body.
The warm water swirling around us, the sensation of bone-deep satisfaction that filled Kristoff and spilled out into me as he drank, the ever-increasing tension that wound inside me combining with his, pushing us both higher, joining with a million other sensations, threatened to overload my senses as I clutched the sharp lava rocks. But it was the more profound merging, the blending of souls as he both took life from me and returned it, that sent my spirit soaring. All the dark places inside him, all the inky despair, and pain, and shadows of loneliness that still remained were obliterated at that moment. I fed him not just my blood, but my very sense of being, filling him with light and hope and happiness. And as his tongue swirled a path of flame over my shoulder, as his body tensed in mine, I gave him the last thing I had.