world flipped upside down. She was on her back again, and Lucien atop her. She marveled at his strength, but after a moment’s reflection, she knew it shouldn’t surprise her. Those were the war mage’s talents—preternatural strength and speed. Along with the most dangerous ability of all, the gift of anticipation. A war mage could sense any attack before it came. To get past a war mage’s defenses, one had to distract him to the point that he was oblivious to the outside world.
He began tugging off her syrtos, occasionally pausing to kiss her roughly, as if he couldn’t decide what he wanted most—to look at her or devour her.
In less than a minute, she was naked on the bed. He looked her over, his eyes clouded with desire. “Gods, Vitala.” He swallowed. “What do you like? What do you want?”
“You,” she purred. “In me.”
He paused, considering. Then he grinned. “No.” He lowered his mouth to her nipple and did something with his tongue. She gasped. Her whole body contracted and she shuddered in sudden, intense pleasure.
He chuckled. “I think you like that.”
“Lucien—”
“Shh.” He worked her with hands and tongue, stroking and tasting. She writhed, utterly out of control, half-terrified at what was happening to her, half-consumed with yearning. She wanted him to stop. She wanted more. Lucien’s hands moved farther south. “How about this?” he whispered. Her body shuddered again, and an involuntary moan escaped her. He’d touched her gently, ever so gently, yet the effect was profound. She was thoroughly wet down there.
This was ridiculous. She had to regain control. No more of this . . . whatever he was doing. She reached for his erection.
He shuddered and pulled away. “Not yet,” he scolded, kissing her in apology. “Or we’ll have a very short night.”
She reached for him again.
He dodged.
Gods-cursed war mage reflexes.
She glared at him. He grinned and moved downward along her body, keeping himself well out of reach. Then his tongue parted her, and such pleasure coursed through her that she did not dare move, lest it stop. He wasn’t the first man to touch her there, but most men were too rough; they had no idea how sensitive she was. Lucien seemed to know the right amount of pressure to use. No doubt it was a skill born of practice; he’d pleasured many a woman before her. Why he should bother, she couldn’t imagine. He was the emperor; he didn’t need to be a good lover to lure women to his bed.
But, for whatever reason, he’d made the most of his opportunities. He sensed her rhythm and adjusted to it, sometimes speeding his strokes, other times slowing them or stopping them entirely, until she was ready to burst with frustration. Then he began again, and the pleasure mounted, greater than before.
As she began to buck, he gripped her around the hips. Then her world exploded and she thought of nothing but uncontrollable, shuddering pleasure. When it finished, she lay back, panting and sweating. She closed her eyes as her body throbbed gently. When she opened her eyes, Lucien was there, staring into them. He kissed her.
Three gods
, she realized.
That was an orgasm.
She’d had plenty of sex, practicing for this very night, but never had any of her partners cared enough about her pleasure to bring her to orgasm.
The head of Lucien’s cock nudged her opening, poised to enter.
She prepared herself mentally. The moment was coming when she would have to kill this man.
He pushed himself inside. And the vision seized her.
“Gods.” The young soldier’s eyes fluttered closed as he penetrated her. His dark hair, overlong, fell across his brow. She could feel his energy, his excitement, his masculine strength. His mouth found hers and kissed it eagerly. “Who are you?” he asked. “Tell me your name.”
She said nothing. She lay still, submissive, waiting for her moment.
He sighed with pleasure, his hips moving. “You’re so beautiful. Say
He began tugging off her syrtos, occasionally pausing to kiss her roughly, as if he couldn’t decide what he wanted most—to look at her or devour her.
In less than a minute, she was naked on the bed. He looked her over, his eyes clouded with desire. “Gods, Vitala.” He swallowed. “What do you like? What do you want?”
“You,” she purred. “In me.”
He paused, considering. Then he grinned. “No.” He lowered his mouth to her nipple and did something with his tongue. She gasped. Her whole body contracted and she shuddered in sudden, intense pleasure.
He chuckled. “I think you like that.”
“Lucien—”
“Shh.” He worked her with hands and tongue, stroking and tasting. She writhed, utterly out of control, half-terrified at what was happening to her, half-consumed with yearning. She wanted him to stop. She wanted more. Lucien’s hands moved farther south. “How about this?” he whispered. Her body shuddered again, and an involuntary moan escaped her. He’d touched her gently, ever so gently, yet the effect was profound. She was thoroughly wet down there.
This was ridiculous. She had to regain control. No more of this . . . whatever he was doing. She reached for his erection.
He shuddered and pulled away. “Not yet,” he scolded, kissing her in apology. “Or we’ll have a very short night.”
She reached for him again.
He dodged.
Gods-cursed war mage reflexes.
She glared at him. He grinned and moved downward along her body, keeping himself well out of reach. Then his tongue parted her, and such pleasure coursed through her that she did not dare move, lest it stop. He wasn’t the first man to touch her there, but most men were too rough; they had no idea how sensitive she was. Lucien seemed to know the right amount of pressure to use. No doubt it was a skill born of practice; he’d pleasured many a woman before her. Why he should bother, she couldn’t imagine. He was the emperor; he didn’t need to be a good lover to lure women to his bed.
But, for whatever reason, he’d made the most of his opportunities. He sensed her rhythm and adjusted to it, sometimes speeding his strokes, other times slowing them or stopping them entirely, until she was ready to burst with frustration. Then he began again, and the pleasure mounted, greater than before.
As she began to buck, he gripped her around the hips. Then her world exploded and she thought of nothing but uncontrollable, shuddering pleasure. When it finished, she lay back, panting and sweating. She closed her eyes as her body throbbed gently. When she opened her eyes, Lucien was there, staring into them. He kissed her.
Three gods
, she realized.
That was an orgasm.
She’d had plenty of sex, practicing for this very night, but never had any of her partners cared enough about her pleasure to bring her to orgasm.
The head of Lucien’s cock nudged her opening, poised to enter.
She prepared herself mentally. The moment was coming when she would have to kill this man.
He pushed himself inside. And the vision seized her.
“Gods.” The young soldier’s eyes fluttered closed as he penetrated her. His dark hair, overlong, fell across his brow. She could feel his energy, his excitement, his masculine strength. His mouth found hers and kissed it eagerly. “Who are you?” he asked. “Tell me your name.”
She said nothing. She lay still, submissive, waiting for her moment.
He sighed with pleasure, his hips moving. “You’re so beautiful. Say
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