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Authors: Michelle M. Pillow
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filtered into his piercing gaze.
Ulyssa's heart nearly stopped at the meaning in his expression. Her breath came out in raspy pants. For the life of her, she couldn't think of a single thing to say. Kirill licked his lips as his finger drew forward to her knee. Lightly, he touched her and she trembled. Her eyes widened. A torrent of moisture pooled between her thighs and made ready for him.
Watching his finger as if it was the most important task in the world, Kirill drew it in light circles up her inner thigh. The back of his hand edged up her skirt by agonizingly small degrees. Her leg twitched, falling slightly open in invitation. The movement caused his hand to still in its progress over her skin. Kirill moaned softly, leaning over to brush his lips against her raised knee. He didn't kiss her, just allowed his lips to discover the texture of her skin in a brief caress.
Ulyssa's body jerked violently, giving away the depths of her need. Her center was wet, hot, nearly burning in anticipation. Her hands worked against the ties, fighting to be free. His lips brushed along her knee another time and she again jerked. Ripples of pleasure shot through her at the simple caress. Her back arched, offering itself up in invitation. She wanted more from him, so much more.
Kirill groaned in approval of her passion. She was so purely wild in her untamed responses. Even though he knew a part of her fought what stirred between them, she wanted him. Suddenly, he stopped and pulled his hand back into a fist. Sitting between her legs, he studied her intently.
"What?" she began, confused. Her lids fluttered as she searched for him in the dimness. "Why'd you stop?"
"You belonged to my father, Lyssa," he stated simply.
Ulyssa tensed. "I belong to no man, especially not your father."
To her surprise, a smile flashed over his features at her words. "I truly pity any man who'd love you with his heart, for it'd be a weary battle to win yours."
Ulyssa felt the instant sting of tears at the words, but blinked them back. She didn't care to wonder why the truth would feel like such a hard kick in the gut. Hadn't she always said the exact same thing? But, to hear it from him seemed ... painful.
Kirill's hand reached once more for her thigh, pushing the skirt up higher. His voice a low rumble, he asked, "Do you want this?"
"It's just sex, Kirill," she answered, still hurt by his words and covering it with her straightforward way of talking. "I've had my intergalactic travel shots and I can't get pregnant. We have nothing to worry about."
He stopped, considering her words.
"What? I can't call you Kirill? Do you really want me to shout out Your Royal Highness?" Ulyssa smirked.
Kirill came forward and brushed his lips against hers. It was a kiss they both felt all the way down to their toes. Whispering along the corner of her mouth, he said, "No, in bed you may call me whatever you wish. In public it is my lord, my King, or King Kirill."
"You do realize that I'm not staying here." Ulyssa bumped his nose playfully with hers.
"You realize I can't permit you to leave quite yet," he answered, rubbing back.
"I wasn't asking for your permission." She reached her tongue to trace the seam of his lips, trying to tempt him to madness. He tasted like wine--warm, delicious. "You have no power over me."
"I can't allow you to leave." Reaching out with his tongue, he did the same to her. His dark eyes bore down into her blue ones. "And I have power over everything in my land."
"It would seem we can't reach an agreement," she whispered. Her long lashes fluttered over her eyes, as the tips of their tongues touched and tangled in slow circles.
Kirill sucked her tongue's tip into his mouth and closed his lips around it as he slowly pulled back. "Mm, so it would seem."
Ulyssa moaned, unable to take the drawn out seduction. Her body hummed with fire. She needed him to fulfill the ache his nearness stirred. Parting her lips, she pushed up, ready to claim his
Ulyssa's heart nearly stopped at the meaning in his expression. Her breath came out in raspy pants. For the life of her, she couldn't think of a single thing to say. Kirill licked his lips as his finger drew forward to her knee. Lightly, he touched her and she trembled. Her eyes widened. A torrent of moisture pooled between her thighs and made ready for him.
Watching his finger as if it was the most important task in the world, Kirill drew it in light circles up her inner thigh. The back of his hand edged up her skirt by agonizingly small degrees. Her leg twitched, falling slightly open in invitation. The movement caused his hand to still in its progress over her skin. Kirill moaned softly, leaning over to brush his lips against her raised knee. He didn't kiss her, just allowed his lips to discover the texture of her skin in a brief caress.
Ulyssa's body jerked violently, giving away the depths of her need. Her center was wet, hot, nearly burning in anticipation. Her hands worked against the ties, fighting to be free. His lips brushed along her knee another time and she again jerked. Ripples of pleasure shot through her at the simple caress. Her back arched, offering itself up in invitation. She wanted more from him, so much more.
Kirill groaned in approval of her passion. She was so purely wild in her untamed responses. Even though he knew a part of her fought what stirred between them, she wanted him. Suddenly, he stopped and pulled his hand back into a fist. Sitting between her legs, he studied her intently.
"What?" she began, confused. Her lids fluttered as she searched for him in the dimness. "Why'd you stop?"
"You belonged to my father, Lyssa," he stated simply.
Ulyssa tensed. "I belong to no man, especially not your father."
To her surprise, a smile flashed over his features at her words. "I truly pity any man who'd love you with his heart, for it'd be a weary battle to win yours."
Ulyssa felt the instant sting of tears at the words, but blinked them back. She didn't care to wonder why the truth would feel like such a hard kick in the gut. Hadn't she always said the exact same thing? But, to hear it from him seemed ... painful.
Kirill's hand reached once more for her thigh, pushing the skirt up higher. His voice a low rumble, he asked, "Do you want this?"
"It's just sex, Kirill," she answered, still hurt by his words and covering it with her straightforward way of talking. "I've had my intergalactic travel shots and I can't get pregnant. We have nothing to worry about."
He stopped, considering her words.
"What? I can't call you Kirill? Do you really want me to shout out Your Royal Highness?" Ulyssa smirked.
Kirill came forward and brushed his lips against hers. It was a kiss they both felt all the way down to their toes. Whispering along the corner of her mouth, he said, "No, in bed you may call me whatever you wish. In public it is my lord, my King, or King Kirill."
"You do realize that I'm not staying here." Ulyssa bumped his nose playfully with hers.
"You realize I can't permit you to leave quite yet," he answered, rubbing back.
"I wasn't asking for your permission." She reached her tongue to trace the seam of his lips, trying to tempt him to madness. He tasted like wine--warm, delicious. "You have no power over me."
"I can't allow you to leave." Reaching out with his tongue, he did the same to her. His dark eyes bore down into her blue ones. "And I have power over everything in my land."
"It would seem we can't reach an agreement," she whispered. Her long lashes fluttered over her eyes, as the tips of their tongues touched and tangled in slow circles.
Kirill sucked her tongue's tip into his mouth and closed his lips around it as he slowly pulled back. "Mm, so it would seem."
Ulyssa moaned, unable to take the drawn out seduction. Her body hummed with fire. She needed him to fulfill the ache his nearness stirred. Parting her lips, she pushed up, ready to claim his
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