Page 75 of Caged By Dance and Desire

My knees buckled.

Andrei held me up. “Come, I’m not a fool. Tell me what you want.”

“I want you.” My anger rose. “You know. It’s not as if you can’t read my mind.”

“Maybe so, but I like to hear you say it. So. . .say it. Be specific.” He almost hissed the last word.

“I want you to fuck me. To sleep,” I added. “I need to get up early in the morning.”

He stared down at me a split second, then laughed. “Sleep? Little mortal, sleep is the last thing you will be getting tonight. Well, what’s left of the night. You might as well let me fuck you until breakfast.”

Ôi Chúa oi. Dear Lord.

Andrei lifted me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, rubbing my breasts against his chest in desperation for friction, for pressure.

“You’re burning up in my arms,” he murmured. “The shy, sweet girl has been abandoned like refuse.”

That would be because I wasn’t shy or sweet.

Entering the house, hearing a few muffled voices cooled some of my ardor. It felt like the reverse walk of shame on the way to his bedroom, except instead of shame I felt an increasing nervousness as I faced what we were about to do.

It had been a while for me. Not only had it been a while, but thoughts of the last—dare I mislabel him boyfriend—reared up in my mind. Accusations of being cold, frigid, overworking and not spending enough time with him—and those were the reasons he couldn't bring me to climax. The reasons why when he touched me, I felt cold.

Not the endometriosis, of course. AKA, the endohuh?

Images of that ex ran through my mind, sweating and oblivious to my lack of response as he pumped inside of me. As if a flat expression and utter silence meant a woman was enjoying herself.

Andrei turned, pushing me against the wall, a biting focus to his gaze.

“One, you'll do me the courtesy of not thinking of another man fucking you while you're in my arms. Two, we’re not going to have that problem.”

His eyes brightened to twin flames. “My fingers are coated in your come, and soon my cock will be too. So prepare, consort. You won’t leave my bed until your screaming has shredded your throat.”

Chapter

Twenty-One

He tossed me on my front on the bed, pressing my body into the mattress as he draped over me, grinding his erection into the crease of my bottom.

I rested my forehead against the comforter while he nipped at my neck and shoulders, whispering in my ear,

“Would you cry no if I spread your legs and sank into you right now?”

I whimpered, arching the small of my back to rub against him, the sane part of my mind clucking its tongue because weknewwe needed to put the brakes on and have The Discussion.

But let me have this fantasy for a few more minutes.

He hummed, lips satin on my cheek when I turned my head. “No, you wouldn’t. But I have the incompetence of other men to atone for. I should thank them. . .a night in my bed and I’ll have you bathing my feet with those pretty crocodile’s tears.”

When I stiffened, he chuckled.

Andrei turned me onto my back, stripping me of shirt and soaked panties. “You've had my fingers tonight, so I think for our next course—or mine, rather—I’ll plunge my tongue so deep in your pussy you’ll taste yourself for the next week when I kiss you.”

He straddled me, sliding his hands up my torso to cup my breasts, his over-bright eyes trained on my face.

“Or do you want me to fuck your mouth first? A dancer needs nutrients, Anah. Fae come is rich in trace minerals.”

Did he really say that?

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