Page 79 of What Fury Brings
He couldn’t answer her. No, instead his hips jerked forward, seeking friction without his say-so.
A laugh rumbled out of her. “Let’s see if I can get it out of you. Now, I will check in with you as we go, but if at any time you wish me to stop, simply say so. You say the wordstop, and I stop. Understood?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Yes, what?”
He closed his eyes. “Yes, Olerra.”
“Good boy.”
He heard the lid to the pot removed, and a pleasant smell wafted into the room. Something earthy with just the lightest fragrance of roses.
“What is that?”
“Oil, Prince. Special oil for bedtime activities.”
He swallowed.
“May I touch you?”
“Yes, Olerra.”
She drew away the only piece of cloth covering him. He felt overheated, despite the lack of clothing.
A single finger touched the back of his neck and trailed down his spine. It was so light he almost couldn’t feel it, and goose bumps erupted on his naked flesh. She stopped at his lower back.
Then he could feel her hot breath on his upper back as she traced the same path with her lips. She couldn’t reach his neck from this position, which was a shame, but he reveled in the feel of her skin tracing his. She didn’t kiss him, just let her lips skim the path. Her tongue darted out once when she reached his lower back this time, and he jerked forward again. Seeking contact that wasn’t there with her behind him.
Her breath teased his shoulders once more, and he braced himself for whatever torture she had in store next.
It was her teeth that trailed his spine next. They skimmed his skin, nipping occasionally. He was breathing faster once she finished.
Her hands touched his shoulders, and in the next moment, she was massaging him. Working the knots from his tense muscles. He leaned back into that touch, the padded manacles keeping him aloft. His tense muscles relaxed, but his hard cock sure didn’t.
No one had… ever touched him this way before. When he paid for companionship, the deed was usually over pretty quickly…
Because the women at the brothels wanted it over as soon as possible, he now realized.
Olerra worked her way down his back, scoring her thumbs into his muscles. Her hands went lower and lower, and he wondered when exactly she would stop.
She didn’t; she kept up her ministrations when she reached his ass, kneading, in his opinion, expertly.
“What about this?” he asked on a pant. “Have you done this to anyone else before?” He wasn’t sure why he bothered to voice the question. Maybe it felt strange to simply hang there without touching. Without looking.
“Just you, My Prince.” She made that delicious humming noise again. “Your muscles are so large everywhere. Even here.” She cupped his cheeks, one hand on either side, and he relished in the sensation. He wished he could touch her right now.
Her hands left him, and he felt empty immediately. Tension built as he waited to feel what she would do next. He waited for her to appear in front of him.
He heard her messing with the pot, the sluicing sound of her wetting her hands. The slickness would give him the perfect slide when she finally got her fingers around him.
Instead, he felt a finger in a place he never had before.
She circled his entrance, and he lunged forward with his hips once more.
He heard the smile. “Was that a good or bad retreat?”
His lips parted to tell her bad. He meant to ask her what the fuck she was doing. He wanted to know why she wasn’t on her knees yet. Why the hell—
