Page 39 of A Storm in Every Heart
“Perfect.”
I grip the fabric in both hands and tear it down the center, tiny pearl-shaped buttons flying everywhere, pinging off the walls and floor. Underneath, she’s wearing a corset that covers only her stomach to the top of her hipbones, leaving her breasts bare—probably to make them appear larger, despite the fact that she absolutely requires no help in that area.
She twists back around in the pooling fabric of her torn dress and smirks at me.
Unable to hold back, I gather the remnants of her dress and toss them onto the floor, then grip her thighs and tug her toward the end of the bed. She shrieks and falls flat on her back, and I slide back off the bed. Standing between her legs, I look down at her, taking in every inch of my prize.
Her long hair—which looks sometimes red and sometimes blonde depending on the lighting—fans out around her in waves. Her lips are swollen from kissing, and her skin is flushed all over. The lacy cream-colored corset pushes her tits up practically to her chin, and her blush-pink nipples are hard and just begging to be licked.
For the love of the fucking gods. She’s so damn beautiful it’s distracting. I want to blurt that out, just to expel the thought from my head, but I know Odessa already knows she’s beautiful—she’s likely been told that a dozen times a day since she was a teenager and I notice how she flinches when anyone brings it up.
So I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from speaking and focus on her soft skin beneath my fingers. I trail up her thighs until I reach the edges of her lace panties and dip my fingers beneath the lace to skim the divot where her leg meets her hips.
She gasps and wriggles her hips, sliding closer to me, clearly urging me to go faster. Half-obliging, I skim my fingers over the front of her panties, and she shivers. “Kastian…”
I bite the inside of my cheek harder, tasting blood.
I fucking love hearing her say my name, like she has a right to it. I want to hear her say it over and over. All night. Every day for the rest of my immortal life.
“Just once.”
Suddenly frustrated, I fist the fabric of her panties in one hand and yank. The fabric tears, and I rip it away, tossing the scraps of ruined lace on the floor with the dress and all the tiny broken buttons. Odessa gasps in surprise and starts to sit up, but I splay my fingers across her lower stomach and push her back down. “Don’t move.”
Her eyes narrow. “Excuse me?”
I hold my hand firm against her stomach, not giving her an inch. “Didn’t you hear me before? I want to feel you coming all over my fingers and my face, and then I’ll consider letting you have my cock.”
“You’ll let me?” she hisses.
I ignore her. She’ll figure out soon enough that I don’t like to share control.
Odessa’s expression is indignant, but I can see the lust and curiosity in the way she shudders when I run my fingers again over her bare cunt and dip between her folds. Finally, she whimpers, unable to maintain that haughty, annoyed expressionas I slide one finger inside her and draw it back out slowly. “…So fucking wet for me.”
I bring my fingers to my mouth and suck. Her eyes bug out of her head, focused on my mouth. She rolls her hips, and I chuckle, sliding my fingers back inside her. This time, I add a second and scissor them, stretching her tight cunt wide until she gasps.
My cock throbs, wanting desperately to be included, but I force myself to ignore it. I refuse to rush this and waste my only opportunity to own Odessa—claim her as mine, if only temporarily.
She bucks her hips and grumbles with impatience, and I give in—a little. “Play with your nipples.”
She glares down at me over the swell of her tits. “You do it.”
I laugh. “I could, but I think you’d rather I did this.”
Still moving my fingers in and out of her, I run the thumb of my other hand over her clit, rubbing gently until she whimpers with approval. I add my pointer finger, rolling her clit back and forth between the two. She gasps, cursing under her breath.
I smile widely, recognizing the words instantly.
Language isn’t often relevant in Ellender because the entire continent is enchanted with universal language, but every so often there’s a word or phrase from one kingdom that cannot be translated into the language of another. I smile as Dessa curses fluently in Hydrattan. I like the reminder that we’re originally from the same place, and in another life I would have been her king.
“Play with your tits,” I tell her again. “Don’t make me ask you again, or I won’t let you come.”
She growls, even as her hands come up to graze over her taught nipple. “You arrogant ass.”
I grin and curl my fingers inside her, stroking over her inner walls. She mewls with desperation, her hips arching off the bedas I trace fervent circles around and over her clit, striving to mirror the rhythm of her fingers teasing her nipples. Her breaths come faster, turning into ragged gasps as a flush blooms across her chest and creeps up to her cheeks.
“Oh my gods,” she hisses, her eyes clenching shut as her mouth falls open in a silent scream.
She tightens around me, and it’s an agonizing struggle to restrain myself from yanking out my cock and thrusting into her.
