idea of her masturbating her pink bare flesh till she came on her own fingers…
Suddenly, the vision changed to show Sabine on her knees before him as he stood. He had his fist in her long red hair, guiding her head as she sucked his shaft. He bucked into her mouth, clearly on the verge, his head thrown back. She’d imagined this?
She sauntered in front of him, in front of the illusion still playing. He lost his breath; time seemed to slow.
“Sabine?” She was clad in Sorceri dress, the same the ancients of her kind had favored ages ago. She wore an elaborate headdress in gold and silver that might easily have been the crown of a queen. Her hair was in wild plaits, spilling out all around it.
A mask of jet-black kohl made her amber eyes glow, and her lips were painted blood red. The metal of her top barely covered her breasts. Below her short skirt, her hose were like fishnet but made with threads of gold, climbing to her mid thighs.
He’d always thought the traditional dress for the Sorceri females had the potential to be mind-numbingly erotic. He’d never seen it on the right woman.
Until now. Rydstrom hissed out a curse. Deny it all I want…
The Lore held that they’d dressed like this because they were among the physically weakest of all the species. They had no claws, so they mimicked them. They were vulnerable to injury so they protected their heads and their torsos with metal. The masks disconcerted their stronger opponents.
If she’d been nigh irresistible to him before…
She was now his fantasy made flesh—standing framed by an illusion showing his legs nearly buckling as she sucked him so deep.
Mine. She turned in a leisurely circle so he could see her from the back. As he beheld her pert ass in that skirt, he thought, I’m undone .
“I’ve decided we should get to know one another,” she purred, facing him again. “Perhaps you’ve been reluctant to wed me because you haven’t seen what a winning personality I have.” She let the illusion behind her fade.
“Winning personality,” he repeated dumbly. Now she wanted to talk, when he was doing his damnedest not to rock his aching shaft against the cool sheet.
“I’m curious, demon. What do you enjoy sexually?”
He’d been trying to figure that out for most of his life. He knew he enjoyed her dressed like this. It made him fantasize about spending hours divesting her of wicked garments.
The puzzle of unfastening each complicated piece…the time it would take, the anticipation . The knotted leather laces on her metal top alone…
“It’s rumored that you’re attracted to good girls, to virtuous women.”
After an inward shake, he said, “I want a good queen for my people.”
“But that’s not what you need in bed.”
“And how would you know that?”
“By the way you’ve been eye-fucking my body in this attire and tenting your sheet. Do you know what I think? I think that deep down, you’ve always wanted a wicked girl. Fate knew it, and that’s why I was given to you. I think you’ve been taking virtuous women—self-sacrificing, boring, virtuous women—only because that’s what you were taught to do.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I know everything about you, Rydstrom. I’ve studied you for years, devouring unauthorized biographies of the very old kind. And over the last two days, I’ve reviewed all the texts on your family’s history, on your history. I’ve been working to reconcile what was written with what I know about you personally.”
Sweat beaded on his brow. How much could she have learned?
“For instance, I’d read that you attempted your first female on your thirteenth birthday and your second the day after. I believe this to be true.”
It was. For a demon prince, attempting females was critical. He’d bedded one after another, trying to find his consort. Rydstrom had taken more females in the first century of his life than he had during the fourteen that
Suddenly, the vision changed to show Sabine on her knees before him as he stood. He had his fist in her long red hair, guiding her head as she sucked his shaft. He bucked into her mouth, clearly on the verge, his head thrown back. She’d imagined this?
She sauntered in front of him, in front of the illusion still playing. He lost his breath; time seemed to slow.
“Sabine?” She was clad in Sorceri dress, the same the ancients of her kind had favored ages ago. She wore an elaborate headdress in gold and silver that might easily have been the crown of a queen. Her hair was in wild plaits, spilling out all around it.
A mask of jet-black kohl made her amber eyes glow, and her lips were painted blood red. The metal of her top barely covered her breasts. Below her short skirt, her hose were like fishnet but made with threads of gold, climbing to her mid thighs.
He’d always thought the traditional dress for the Sorceri females had the potential to be mind-numbingly erotic. He’d never seen it on the right woman.
Until now. Rydstrom hissed out a curse. Deny it all I want…
The Lore held that they’d dressed like this because they were among the physically weakest of all the species. They had no claws, so they mimicked them. They were vulnerable to injury so they protected their heads and their torsos with metal. The masks disconcerted their stronger opponents.
If she’d been nigh irresistible to him before…
She was now his fantasy made flesh—standing framed by an illusion showing his legs nearly buckling as she sucked him so deep.
Mine. She turned in a leisurely circle so he could see her from the back. As he beheld her pert ass in that skirt, he thought, I’m undone .
“I’ve decided we should get to know one another,” she purred, facing him again. “Perhaps you’ve been reluctant to wed me because you haven’t seen what a winning personality I have.” She let the illusion behind her fade.
“Winning personality,” he repeated dumbly. Now she wanted to talk, when he was doing his damnedest not to rock his aching shaft against the cool sheet.
“I’m curious, demon. What do you enjoy sexually?”
He’d been trying to figure that out for most of his life. He knew he enjoyed her dressed like this. It made him fantasize about spending hours divesting her of wicked garments.
The puzzle of unfastening each complicated piece…the time it would take, the anticipation . The knotted leather laces on her metal top alone…
“It’s rumored that you’re attracted to good girls, to virtuous women.”
After an inward shake, he said, “I want a good queen for my people.”
“But that’s not what you need in bed.”
“And how would you know that?”
“By the way you’ve been eye-fucking my body in this attire and tenting your sheet. Do you know what I think? I think that deep down, you’ve always wanted a wicked girl. Fate knew it, and that’s why I was given to you. I think you’ve been taking virtuous women—self-sacrificing, boring, virtuous women—only because that’s what you were taught to do.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I know everything about you, Rydstrom. I’ve studied you for years, devouring unauthorized biographies of the very old kind. And over the last two days, I’ve reviewed all the texts on your family’s history, on your history. I’ve been working to reconcile what was written with what I know about you personally.”
Sweat beaded on his brow. How much could she have learned?
“For instance, I’d read that you attempted your first female on your thirteenth birthday and your second the day after. I believe this to be true.”
It was. For a demon prince, attempting females was critical. He’d bedded one after another, trying to find his consort. Rydstrom had taken more females in the first century of his life than he had during the fourteen that
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