Page 23 of To Tame An Angel

My boots leave echoes in my wake.

He raised a brow, and I sensed the slight recoil in his stance. He towered over me, and I’d forgotten his height since he’d been bedridden. Despite his girth, his waist was slim and shaved into a lovely point, trailing into his trousers.

“You left the bed,” I stated as I moved towards him, until we stand staring at one another.

“You changed your clothes,” he countered.

“You dislike leather, Tannor?” I asked.

“Depends,” he said, and his eyes are still taking in how the corset shapes against my breasts and hips.

“On what?” I circled him, studying his back, his shoulders, the curve of his luscious ass.

“If it’s on you, I enjoy it very much. If it’s whipping my back, I don’t,” he snapped and turned his head to stare at me.

The thought of lightly tanning the ass before me fills me with desire and I slowly slide my hand to his buttocks, caressing him over the trousers. He let out a small gasp of surprise, but the darkening of his eyes was unmistakable.

“What if it’s whipping your ass?” I squeezed a cheek, the flesh plump and inviting.

He opened his mouth to speak, but he looked frozen, and the scent of musk and citrus was faint but undeniable. “Is it magic? What you use to make me want such things?”

I almost laughed and forgot that I must remain composed. Shaking my head, I slid my hand up his back until I cupped his neck and threaded my fingers into his hair. With a harsh yank, I brought him to me until his face was inches from mine. His hands clasped my waist, pulling me in.

“Did you ever think that perhaps, just perhaps, it’s desirable to you too?” I asked and nipped his lower lip.

He leaned forward, gasping. Having him this willing and pliable blanked my mind. I suddenly need to have him in me, feel him stretch me as I commanded him to thrust.

“Nalla — ” he whispered and moved to kiss me, but I moved his head back, with a fistful of his hair.

Denial.

“Lower your trousers and drape yourself, ass in the air,” I hissed.

His cheek twitched as I let go of his hair and pointed to the settee. His eyes flickered to the chair, then back at me. He wished to argue. There’s doubt and hesitation clouding his eyes. And fear. The scent of musk and citrus intensified.

I don’t take my eyes from his face, drinking in all the shifting thoughts flittering through his head. Finally, he nods.

“Fine. Let’s get it over with, you sadistic bitch,” his tone is low and angry.

The urge to smile in triumph nearly wins me over. My heart skips as I watch him slowly walk to the chair, a small limp still on his feet. He paused before the chair and looked back at me. We stared at one another as he slowly unlaced his trousers and slid them down his hips. His cock is half hard. I glanced at it with a raised brow and bit my lip at the soft blush that colored his face.

He looked away, angry and ashamed of his reaction.

Hesitantly, he lowered his arms to the seat of the chair, the muscles straining, his head down, staring at the fabric. I walk around him, taking all of him in. My cunt is soaked and I’m desperate to touch myself just a little, to hold off the edge until I let him eat me.

He’s spectacular at this moment. Twice my size, able to plummet me if he wished, bent over for display. He moved his head to look at me, to watch me appreciating him.

His lips thinned. “Are you just going to watch?”

I paused and slapped my hand down on his right upturned cheek. He’s too muscled for it to bounce, but my strength behind the spank made him flinch out a grunt, looking down once more.

“I’ll do what I like. Some days I’ll ask that you greet me just like this, presenting yourself to me, ready for whatever my whims are.”

At my words, his dangling cock twitched, straining into the chair. I smile in triumph. His breath becomes heavier, deeper. He shifted his legs, widening them and providing me a better look at his balls and cock.

“What do you say to that, Tannor?” I asked, my hands trailing over his bent back, delighting in the rippling of his flesh. “Would you greet me like this after a long day of training? Offering yourself to me?”

The muscles in his arms twitched. “I rather greet you with my face between your legs. Then maybe you’ll be in a better mood than now, after whatever hate your mother spilled on you.”

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