He looked from one arm to the other, then to me. “I do not like this. You will hurry and satisfy yourself upon me so that I may claim you as is right and proper.”
“Oh, I’m going to satisfy more than just me.” I moved off the bed and padded over to a discreet stereo system.
“First you demand to restrain me, and then you leave? What is this torment?” Outrage dripped off his words as I contemplated a small collection of CDs. I picked out one and popped it on the player, turning back to face him.
“This, my darling, is Shania Twain. She and I are going to make sure that you’re receptive to all the things I want to do to you.”
“Music? You desire music now?”
“We never had music while making love before,” I pointed out, tossing my head as my favorite song started. “It all goes along with things we haven’t done in the past. Did I ever do a striptease for you?”
“No. I am not aroused by such things, and my old Ysolde would never have lowered herself to attempting to distract me suchly.” His eyes widened as, moving to the bouncy music, I ran my hands down the slinky satin nightgown, mouthing “Man! I Feel Like a Woman!” to him as I started to hike the material up my legs. I accompanied the move with a few hip shakes that had his eyebrows raising.
“Perhaps I was overly hasty in my assessment of your dance,” he finally said, watching with an avid light as I danced closer to him, leaning over his head so my breasts almost popped out of the thin material.
He tried to reach for me, but Pavel’s cuffs stopped him. He made a noise of unhappiness, and was about to yank himself free when I stopped him by stroking my hand down his chest, from his collarbone, all the way down to where his penis was saluting. “Oh, no, you don’t. You said I get to be in charge, and I say you have to lie there and take this.”
“Take wha—” His eyes rolled back in his head when I bent down and took him in my mouth, letting my tongue dance along the length of him, making him moan nonstop.
“We will purchase a new pair of these restraints for Pavel,” he said when I danced away, twitching the skirt of my nightgown even higher. “I wish to keep this set.”
“I thought you might like them once you gave them a chance,” I said, crawling onto the bed, sliding my hands along his legs until he parted them for me. I bent down and nipped at the muscle just above one knee. “You have such wonderful legs, Baltic. I love your calves. I love your knees. And your thighs make me melt.”
There was hope in his eyes as I kissed my way along the sensitive inner flesh of his thighs. “I remember that about you. You used to tell me that you would never have fallen in love with me if I hadn’t loved to ride.”
I laughed. “Well, I won’t go so far as to say that your horseman’s thighs are what made me love you, but I admit”—I spread my fingers along his thighs—“they are impressive even now that you don’t ride.”
“I ride, just not a horse,” he answered with a wicked glint to his eyes.
“I think, my adorable captive, that this time I will be the one doing the riding.” I leaned across him, allowing my hair to drape across his belly. His breath hissed in as I sucked the closest nipple, gently tugging on it at the same time I teased the other.
“Do so now,” he urged, his breath becoming ragged, his legs moving restlessly.
“Oh, no. Not so fast. I want to enjoy the experience of having you tied up.” I licked his belly, focused for a moment on stirring my dormant dragon’s fire, but gave up.
“That is my fire, not yours,” he said with a tiny frown as I bathed his torso in fire. It skimmed along him, dancing as exuberantly as my fingers when they stroked and teased and touched their way down toward his groin.
“I’m sorry. I just couldn’t raise mine. I’ll try again another time. But now . . .” I flicked my hair so it slithered along the length of his arousal. He shivered in pleasure, his hips bucking when I whipped off my nightgown, and pressed my breasts around him.
“Mount me!” he commanded, his head thrown back, the tendons in his neck standing out with strain.
“I am the one in charge, if you remem—”
There was a snap of leather, and suddenly I was pulled upward until his penis was pressed against me. He shifted me slightly so that he rubbed against parts that suddenly became highly sensitized, causing me to moan with pleasure. I slid my knees along his hips as his hands busied themselves with my breasts, tweaking and tormenting and generally making me see stars.
“Mount me!” he commanded again, and this time I didn’t bother to object; I simply positioned him and gasped with the sensation of him entering me. His hands on my hips urged me into movement, the friction of our bodies sending me on a spiraling path that I knew would end in a moment of purest ecstasy.
“Fire,” I gasped, and he complied, his dragon fire sweeping down my flesh as he pulled me forward to catch his cry of completion, my muscles tightening around him in absolute pleasure.
What seemed like an aeon later, I pushed myself off his chest to give him an unhappy look.
“Why do you frown at me?” he asked, rolling us over, his leg heavy over mine as he pulled me tight against him. “I just gave you such intense pleasure I thought you might wrench off my cock.”
“I’m frowning because not only did you break Pavel’s nifty leather handcuffs, but you took over and wouldn’t let me do all the things I had planned to do.”
To my surprise he grinned as he kissed my forehead. “You were too much for me, mate. I would have spilled my seed if you hadn’t mounted me when you did.”
“It’s very hard to be disgruntled with someone when they tell you that you’ve given them pleasure,” I said, sighing with happiness as I snuggled into the warmth of his body. “But now we’re going to have to buy two sets of the leather cuffs, one for Pavel, one for us.”
“Three sets. I shall get a smaller set for you. And perhaps a few other things. I will ask Pavel for recommendations.”
I smiled, kissing his shoulder, content for the moment to leave the worries of life behind and just revel in the fact that Baltic was in my arms, safe and happy.
Chapter Eight
“Heya, Solders. Whatcha doing?”
I set down my cup of coffee and gawked at Jim as it and Pavel came in from the area that contained the garage. “Gawking. What on earth are you wearing?”
“Kilt!” Jim did a little twirl so the material spun out. Sure enough, the demon was wearing a kilt and a muscle T-shirt.
“By the rood, man! Don’t do that before I’ve had my coffee!” I tried to expunge certain images from my brain. “Why are you wearing a kilt?”
“Pavel took me to buy it in town,” Jim answered, plopping itself down on a chair at the kitchen table and helping itself to a fresh-baked scone. “Ooh, orange cranberry—my favorite. Pavel, my man, got any marmalade to go with it?”
I looked over Jim’s head to where Pavel was pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Why did you buy Jim a kilt?”
He shrugged and gave me a half smile. Pavel was dark-haired and dark-eyed like Baltic, but slightly shorter and a bit stockier. He’d been one of Baltic’s elite guards for centuries before they had found me, and although I knew he had some interesting ideas of what constituted sexual fun, he was also profoundly devoted to Baltic and the best cook I knew. We spent many a long hour discussing the finer points of cuisine, much to Baltic’s amusement.
“The demon said its nuts were being squashed in Baltic’s jeans. It kept wanting to take off the trousers, and I figured its presence was going to go down easier if it didn’t have its dick hanging out.” Pavel gave me a long look. “Do I want to know why the demon is here in the first place? Baltic isn’t going to be happy about it.”
“Yes, but there’s something else he’s going to be a whole lot less happy about, so Jim’s presence won’t really matter. Besides, it’s just temporary. We can take Jim home when we pick up Brom.” I took a big sip of coffee, feeling it was better to face Baltic caffeinated than otherwise.