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Then he stepped between her open thighs and lifted her, cupping her naked b.u.t.tocks in powerful hands, crushing her between the door and his hard, demanding body.
It was so like the previous night that it brought back the memory of panic, of the realization that she could lose him. And now she knew she could lose everything if she failed to win him as fully as he'd won her. Knowing how much was at stake froze her in a kind of stage fright and she understood exactly what the phrase "performance anxiety" meant.
What if she couldn't? "Erik," she started, then swallowed convulsively.
"Shh." He gentled, moving against her persuasively. "Hush. Come to me, woman. Give yourself to me." The seductive words penetrated the haze of arousal and fear. His lips found hers and took them, licking, biting, now unspeakably soft, then so brutally fierce that she tasted blood.
"Give yourself to me," Erik repeated against her mouth. "Open for me. Open your mouth."
She did, shivering, as his tongue probed and claimed, thrusting between her lips as his hard p.e.n.i.s moved against her softest, most vulnerable flesh.
"Open for me," he whispered, kissing her eyelids, her throat, her bared b.r.e.a.s.t.s.
A strangled cry escaped her as his lips tasted a pebbled nipple, drawing it into his mouth.
He seemed to take on a dreamlike aspect that rendered him all-powerful, undeniable. A pagan G.o.d, bent on subduing her, bending her to his will.
She shook in his hands and buried her face against him. It mattered too much. She was shattering with emotion and the blinding need for him. "I'm scared," she mumbled, the words m.u.f.fled by his body.
"Sh," he crooned, soothing her with kisses, his hands sure and strong on her body. He lifted her higher, cradling her in his arms as he carried her to the bed and lowered her onto it, following her down and positioning himself at her unready opening.
"Erik-please-" Her voice sounded thin and strange to her ears.
"Hush." The low command made her tremble, but she obeyed. "Woman, open to me. Open for me." He moved against her, gentle but determined. "Look at me," he grated out, and her eyes opened, staring wildly into his.
"You belong to me." The statement caressed her like velvet and went through her like steel.
Yes. She was his, and she needed him. She shook with it. "Erik-"
He carefully propped himself on one arm, freeing a hand to lay it over her heart. "Your heart races like a frightened hare," he whispered. "Do you sense the snare of the hunter?"
His lips followed his hand, brushing over her hammering pulse.
Then he kneeled between her thighs, lifting her hips as his blue gaze burned into wide eyes turned the color of stormy seas. "Open for me, woman."
She shook her head helplessly, unable to obey, unable to move.
His hands pushed her thighs further apart and his body trapped them wide-spread for his ravishment. Then his mouth closed over her cleft and she cried out, shock waves racing through her.
"Sh. Shh, woman." He pressed intimate kisses along the length her mons, licked at her c.l.i.toris, and then he speared her with his tongue.
"Erik. Erik," Lorelei gasped, feeling fire shoot through her as he softened her, opening her with determined lips and fingers and sucking at her sensitive c.l.i.t until liquid heat welled between her thighs and spilled for him.
"Open for me," he commanded again, and she did, straining to offer more of herself for him to take.
"Sweet," he whispered, moving his mouth over her and licking deep inside her again. Then he rose over her and came down to crush her into the bed, his jutting erection hard and hot between her thighs. His hard tip pressed deep into the cleft that welcomed him with slick readiness.
Still, he waited, prolonging the moment of his total possession of her. He gathered her close, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her against his chest. "Sweet Lorelei, give yourself to me," he urged, probing at her tight entry.
The meaning grew clear as he waited, not driving forward.
Hesitantly, she raised her hips, reaching for him and groaning softly as the tip pressed inside, making her ache for more. She arched up further and was rewarded by gaining more of his length, more of the sweet pressure she needed to feel filling her.
"Yes, woman. Sweet woman, my woman." The velvety words of praise were breathed against her cheeks and eyelids, his voice low and encouraging. "You want me inside you. You need me to come inside you. Tell me," Erik urged.
"I-need-"
"Not with words." He stole them from her with a deep, devouring kiss, leaving her to tell him the only way she could.
Wanting, aching, she wound her legs around his back and moved under him, straining to take more, to get closer. He settled deeper into her, riding inside easily and she cried out at the sensation.
Satisfied with her surrender, he claimed her with hard, sure strokes that soothed her need, driving into her welcoming softness again and again.
"Erik-"
"Hush, woman." The gentle admonition was breathed against her throat. He stilled for a moment, as if fighting the need to spill himself then and there. His hand found the bud between her legs once more, stroking it.
"Erik." She clung to him with almost desperate strength.
"Yes, woman. Take your pleasure from me," he encouraged, stroking the sensitive nub as he began to move inside her again.
The joint stimulation made the universe spin out of control. Shuddering, heaving under his crushing weight, Lorelei cried out again and again, not knowing her wild cries filled the room.
She knew only that she belonged to Erik, and he belonged to her. He drove into her with savage ferocity punctuated by each shattered cry wrenched from her throat, and then she was splintering, breaking, dissolving in a swelling liquid burst as Erik drove deep and planted his seed inside her welcoming female core.
Panting, he stayed still for long minutes, buried deeply inside her. Then he withdrew and rolled to his side, trapping her in his arms and legs to keep her pressed full against him.
"My woman." The husky claim, full of masculine pride, made her tremble.
"Yes," Lorelei agreed.
He stroked her with possessive hands, touching her nakedness with mingled satiation and greed.
"I will take you as I desire. And you will give yourself to me. You will not withhold yourself from me."
She trembled and burrowed into his embrace, feeling raw and shattered, not wanting to answer him.
When she remained silent, he brought her face up to meet his, smoothing back the midnight silk of her hair. "Say it, woman," he commanded.
"Erik." Her eyes dark with emotion, Lorelei touched his face, silently pleading with him to understand. "You don't know what you're asking."
"I understand that I have no need to ask," he stated. "You are mine by right.
Say it."
She was his. She knew it, had recognized the truth of it and surrendered to it, but didn't know how to find the words to tell him.
"Say it."
"Erik." His name was a raw whisper. She closed her eyes and felt for answers. Words wouldn't be enough. How could she show him? How could she make him understand that he completed her? How to make him see that she completed him? That they belonged together, were bound together by so much more than any law?
He took her silence for defiance. His hands gripped her with bruising force. "Say it."
Lorelei opened her eyes and met his steady gaze. "If I say I'm yours, is it enough?" She shook her head slightly. "You didn't believe me when I told you I' d behave. I don't think words are enough."
She took a deep breath and then put her heart and her future in his hands with her next words, reasoning that he held them both anyway. "I want to show you. I want to prove it to you so you never doubt me again."
A dark hunger erupted inside him at her words.
Freya, she drove him to madness and tempted him like no other. Would she truly surrender herself to him, prove herself his willing slave?
She belonged to him, and she had no choice in the matter. She had no right to withhold what was his. Yet he sensed that a part of her had always been kept back. He hungered for what she offered, what he had demanded of her. If she gave him all he asked or wanted, it would satisfy the hunger in his soul and lay to rest the fear that she was not in his power as utterly as he was in hers. For in truth, he had been hers from the first moment he laid eyes on her.
He reacted with the instinct to conquer, to take and hold what was his.
"You. Are. Mine."
The savage growl should have frightened her, or offended her modern woman sensibilities. Instead, her nipples hardened, her breath quickened, and heat pulsed between her legs.
Desire coursed through her. But she remained silent, waiting for him to take the lead. Waiting to see what he wanted of her. Feeling the erotic tease of uncertainty. He might ravish her right away. He might torture her with foreplay and delay her o.r.g.a.s.m for hours. He might do...anything. Anything at all.
"You will admit it." The s.e.xual heat and the ferocity in his eyes turned her bones to fire.
"I'm yours."
The breathy whisper came from her, unrecognizable to her ears as her own voice.
He came towards her, the need to possess written clearly on his face.
She shivered as she read the implacable determination in his eyes.
Her natural tendency to take charge told her to move forward to meet him, to touch him. Instinct told her to wait. With an effort of will she kept herself still. Submissive. His to do with as he pleased, although if he didn't touch her soon she was going to die. It didn't matter that she'd just had him inside her. She wanted him again.
Slowly, giving her time to move away or change her mind, his arms closed around her, surrounding her with protective strength. Then he fisted his hands in her hair and tugged her down in an unmistakable demand. Just in case she missed the point, he gave her an order. "I wish to feel my slave pleasure me with her mouth."
The submissive slave business was an unbelievable turn-on, Lorelei thought in a haze of blinding l.u.s.t. She wanted to fill her mouth with him. She wanted to drive him as crazy as he drove her, to make him forget any other woman he'd ever touched, and most of all, to earn another sensual order to carry out.
Her lips brushed the tip of his p.e.n.i.s and then opened to slide down the length of him, taking as much as she could into her mouth. He tasted like musky, salty, heated male. He was hard and thick and long. She wrapped her tongue around him, moving her mouth up and down him, sucking, licking, luxuriating in having him right where she wanted him.
Long before she'd had enough, he made a choked sound and pulled her head away. "Enough."
She looked up at him and licked her lips. It wasn't enough, but she didn't argue. She just waited.
"Lay back."
She obeyed. A tremor of antic.i.p.ation wracked her from head to foot, but she didn't move, waiting for his next order.
"Spread your thighs."
Lorelei opened her legs as wide as she could stretch them-and with her flexible muscles, she could do the splits.
He leaned over her, looking down at her. Then he thrust one finger into her. He withdrew it, then thrust it in again.
She whimpered. He could torture her like this for hours. All night. It was killing her. But she managed to keep still.
"My slave is hot and wet for her master," he stated. He pulled his hand back and considered her for a moment. "Turn over. On your knees."
She did it, hopefully with some semblance of grace, but it was hard to say. Need made her clumsy and her bound hands didn't help. She closed her eyes as she felt Erik positioning himself behind her, felt the hard head of his c.o.c.k resting against her slick, wet opening, and wanted him more than she could stand.
"Beg me," he said.
"Please!" The urgency in her voice was unmistakable.
"Call me master."
"Please, master." There was no shame in admitting it. He had mastered her, body, heart, mind, soul. With everything that she was, she belonged to him. Whatever had brought them together, she would never regret it. She had been born to be his, and he was hers. The more he owned of her, the more she owned of him. In surrendering everything, Lorelei suddenly realized, she had driven him to do the same. Neither of them was holding back anymore.
He thrust into her. She bit her lip to keep from moaning her pleasure. The feel of him inside her, so hard and hot and male, deeper inside her than he'd ever been before, made her want to move and make demands of her own.
His hands trailed along her sides and brushed the curve of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, making her want more. As if responding to her silent plea, he cupped her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and thumbed her nipples.
Yes. She clenched around him, unable to prevent the reflex as her inner muscles tightened on his p.e.n.i.s, drawing him even deeper inside.
He let out a low growl in response. Then he began to thrust in earnest, in, out, deeper, harder, taking her, giving himself, and finally pouring himself into her as they both surrendered to their mutual need, her rippling o.r.g.a.s.m milking his c.o.c.k until they were both utterly spent.
They collapsed together.
But there was still something left undone. Words that had to be said.
"I love you, Erik."
She felt him go still.
"Lorelei?" Her name was a question and a command all in one.
"Yes."
Silent, he held her and trailed his hands over her compliant form. "Yes? Yes, Erik, do you mean?"
"Yes, Erik."
"You will do as I say?"
She turned her head to look at him. "Yes. I said I'd obey you."
Dark, unreadable eyes burned into hers. "Whatever I command."
She quirked her mouth into a grin. "Don't command me not to want you."