The Starlight Rite

by Cherise Sinclair

  “Come here.” He motioned to a spot directly in front of his knees.

  She had to force her feet to move across the room. Prophet, she didn’t want to be with him. Not tonight. Her emotions felt like a shaken carbonated drink, bubbling through her painfully. She stopped in front of him.

  Leaning forward, he ran a finger around her jutting nipples. “Your body is interested in playing.”

  She shivered at the teasing touch. Her eyes met his.

  “I am very, very good at reading what a woman’s body says,” he said softly. His gaze never left hers as he rolled her nipple gently between his fingers. Heat shot through her so fast, her knees almost gave way. “So,” he continued. “This is how the evening will go. I tell you to do something, and you obey. Quickly, eagerly, and without speaking.”

  Her lips tightened. This really didn’t sound like a game she wanted to play.

  His eyes darkened. “Now we can keep our activities in the bedroom, or we can go to my club and you can show my friends how well you follow instructions. It’s your choice, little one.”

  “That’s not much of a choice,” she muttered.

  “Did I give you permission to speak?”

  Her mouth opened, but she reconsidered and shook her head. Her bottom still burned from his hand.

  “Very good.” He leaned back. “Take your robe off.”

  She shrugged it off her shoulders and let it drop into a heap to the wooden floor.

  His eyes warmed. “The nightgown is lovely on you, Mella,” he said, and his deep voice roughened. “Sit on my lap.”

  Obeying him seemed wrong, as if she willingly surrendered, yet she wasn’t afraid. Not really. His eyes didn’t hold cruelty, just enjoyment. And determination. She smothered a moan when her sore bottom scraped over his rock-hard legs, then sat, keeping herself stiffly upright.

  He chuckled. “Lean against me and put your head on my shoulder, little thief.”

  His chest felt hard, his silky robe rubbed her cheek. She inhaled the clean scent of soap and man. Why did he have to smell so good?

  His arm curved around her back, and his hand gripped her hip, holding her in place. “Are you comfortable?” he asked.

  As if he cared. “Yes, I guess.”

  “Ah. The correct answer is either ‘yes, sir’ or ‘no, sir.’ Nothing else. Now try again.”

  “Yes, sir,” she whispered.

  “Very nice,” he said, his voice warming. “That sounded just right.” His free hand caressed her breasts through her gown. She tried to flinch away, but the arm behind her was unyielding. He cupped each breast in turn, as if savoring their weight, and his thumb traced circles around her increasingly hard nipples. In her private areas, a throbbing started, then grew in urgency as he rolled the tips between his fingers.

  “Put one leg on each side of mine and your back against my chest,” he murmured.

  Now that, she didn’t want to do. Straddle him? Without waiting for her compliance, he shifted her into the position he’d ordered.

  Now her back was against him, and he curved an arm around her. Putting his hand under the gown’s bodice, he fondled her breast. When he kissed her neck and she jumped at the feel of his warm mouth on her skin, his arm tightened, easily holding her for his touch. “Your skin could make a saint into a sinner,” he said, nuzzling where her neck met her shoulder and sending goose bumps up her arms.

  He had one hand on her breast. Her head spun as she tried to think, as sensations rippled through her. Where was his other hand? Then he slid her gown up her thighs, exposing the V between her legs. With her legs dangling on each side of his, her attempt to draw her thighs closed got nowhere.

  “Uh-uh,” he chided in her ear. “You will not move. I intend to enjoy touching you—everywhere.”

  Embarrassment heated her cheeks when his hand settled over her pussy, when his fingers slid into her folds. “You’re wet for me, little thief. Your mind might not agree, but your body enjoys my touch.” His fingers never stopped moving. When two fingers slid into her, she gasped at the intense rush of pleasure. Her hands clamped down on the arm around her waist, and he chuckled.

  His thumb settled over her clit, right on top, barely brushing the increasingly sensitive spot. She froze. He was playing her body as easily as she played the harp, and her emotions wouldn’t stay separate her body’s responses. Part of her wanted to shove him away, to escape to her room, the other part clamored for his touch. She shook her head in confusion.

  “You’re thinking too hard, little Earther,” he said and bit her shoulder. The sharp pain sent a streak of erotic pleasure through her, and her vagina tightened around his fingers. He moved his knees apart, spreading her farther open to his touch. She shivered.

  Hot. Wanting. Vulnerable.

  His thumb traced circles around her clit, and she clenched her hands as her body started to burn. He rolled a nipple between his fingers, this time the pinch just short of pain, and fire singed downward to meet the increasing need surging upward.

  Her hips tilted, trying to increase the pressure on her clit. He chuckled and removed his hand, leaving her lower half throbbing. “Stand up.”

  “But—”

  “Mella.” He waited.

  She struggled to her feet, closing her thighs over her wet, swollen private area. He pulled her to stand directly in front of him.

  “Remove your gown.”

  After the gown dropped to the floor, she stood naked, raising her hands to cover her breasts and mound. She’d been unclothed with him before. Just…not standing in front of him like this. She realized that the light was more than sufficient to display her size and shape. “Short and fat.” That’s what his mother had said. Maybe she should cover her stomach instead of her breasts. Or her hips… She averted her gaze as a wave of humiliation ran through her.

  “Lower your hands. I like to look at you, laria.” The chair squeaked. “Keep your eyes on mine.”

  She turned back, meeting his dark gaze, and a frown appeared on his forehead. “More than modesty,” he muttered. “Come here.” He pulled her so she stood between his open legs. “Why do you not like being in front of me? And don’t tell me it’s wrong, little Earther. What else?”

  Her cheeks heated. “I—You are all so tall. So thin and hard—even your women. Why—I don’t see why you bought me. I’m fat. Ugly. Can’t you understand that?” she finally snapped out and tried to retreat.

  His legs closed, trapping her between his thighs. His lips curved into a faint smile. “Laria, if you were any more beautiful, men would fall down, frothing at the mouth. Perhaps Earther standards are different. Then again, each man has his own ideal of beauty. You happen to be mine.” He ran his hands up the backs of her thighs and squeezed gently. “I am hard, you’re right, so why would I want a wiry woman in my bed?”

  His hands moved to rest on her wide hips, and he dug his fingers in. “This is the perfect cradle for me. And you are so little that I can hold you easily and move you as I will.”

  She flushed, remembering how he’d done just that last time.

  He leaned forward to nip at her rounded stomach. “Softness and curves everywhere I touch.” He licked over a nipple, making her jerk. “And these…” His eyes were half-lidded as his hands curved under her breasts. “I don’t believe I could ever tire of touching these. You please me very much, little thief, and I have trouble keeping my hands off you. During the day, I think about everything I want to touch and kiss at night.” His lips quirked. “And the enclave’s business suffers because I find you so lovely.”

  Dain never tried to disguise his words in easy lies; the man took directness to new levels. And he thought she was lovely. A glow started in her stomach, and for a moment she could see herself as he did, lush and soft. Her spine straightened, pushing her breasts even farther into his hands.

  His grin flashed. “Now I want you on your back on the bed.”

  When she hesitated, he slapped her bottom lightly, and the sting com
bined with the lingering soreness shot through her and straight to her clit.

  His eyes crinkled, and he gently pinched her nipples, which had suddenly peaked. “Get on the bed before you persuade me that you’d enjoy another spanking.”

  Oh Prophet. She almost tripped in her rush to back away, yet she’d become even wetter between the legs. That spanking had hurt. Why hadn’t his slap on her bottom this time hurt as much? She sat on the bed, frowning.

  “Mella.” He silently gestured for her to lie back. Another flush heated her face as she complied. As he stood looking down at her. This just felt so different from before, so—

  “Lift your knees.”

  “W-what?” She stared up at him. Her legs dangled off the foot of the bed, and he’d moved to stand between them.

  He set something down on the bed, then grasped and bent her legs until her knees rested on her chest. The pose tilted her hips and left her exposed. He clasped her arms around her knees, then gave her a stern look. “You stay in this position, little Earther, or I will tie you here.”

  “But—”

  “You do not have permission to speak.”

  She swallowed once, then again when he pulled his chair forward and sat right…right where he could see everything in the candlelight. She started to bring her legs down and received a sharp slap on her exposed thigh. Gritting her teeth, she laced her hands over her bent knees.

  He touched her.

  Just the slow glide of his finger over her burning folds sent heat through her. Her body quivered uncontrollably.

  “You’re very wet, laria,” he murmured. “I think you must like this game.” His finger slid up beside her clit, moving and teasing.

  Chapter Eleven

  With a slick fingertip, Dain teased the tiny hood covering her somaline until the nub pushed out. Glistening and engorged and delightfully pink. Her breathing turned ragged, and he could see her fingers digging into her knees. Curving his hands under her round ass, he secured her, then used his thumbs to open her farther. The gasp of worry and anticipation she gave pleased him.

  Bending forward, he licked through her folds, stroking his tongue on the sides of her somaline in long, heavy laps until her muscles tightened under his hands. And he backed off.

  “Do not come yet, Earther,” he murmured, lifting his head to watch the color rise in her cheeks as she bit back her protest.

  As her tension relaxed, he slid a finger into her. Her cry of surprise hardened him further, if possible, considering his shultor already ached from being erect so long.

  Her sheath felt snug around his finger. Hot. Welcoming. He thrust in and out, then bent and duplicated the movements with his tongue. Never too close to her nub. Her hips tilted, trying to get more. He brought her to the edge again. He heard her panting, felt her vagina tighten around his finger.

  And backed off.

  She moaned, long and low, as her head thrashed back and forth on the mattress.

  He slid a rubber cover over his finger and oiled it well. Her eyes were closed, so he bit the inside of her thigh and watched a tremor run through her body. Her eyes opened, slightly glazed with unsatisfied need. When he had her attention, he smiled. “Do not move your legs, little one. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir,” she whispered.

  He lowered his head, using his tongue and the fingers of his left hand to bring her to delightful need. And then he brought forward the other hand.

  Dear Prophet, she was so close. Her arms shook with the effort of holding her legs up. Her legs trembled uncontrollably as Dain licked her down there, each stroke showing he knew exactly how to tease her. And his finger acted like a man’s shaft, pushing in and out of her until her whole pussy felt on fire, so tight… If he’d only touch her there. Just move his mouth up a little. She whimpered when he lifted his head, one finger still deep inside her.

  “Don’t move, Mella,” he said again. Then she felt something push against the rim of her back hole. Her mouth dropped open in alarm. “No. You—”

  “Silence, little thief.” The finger in her vagina pressed deeper, and he slid a finger into her other hole. Her whole body tensed as more nerves sparked to life, as she felt horribly, intimately taken yet unbearably excited. He started to thrust his fingers in and out, a compelling rhythm that pulled her higher and higher until each stroke left her quivering on the precipice, excruciatingly poised—

  Sweat broke out on her skin as he kept her there. Whimpering. She couldn’t…couldn’t—

  His tongue stroked over her clit, hot and hard, and his fingers hammered into her. The candlelit room turned a brilliant white as pleasure exploded inside her. The searing ecstasy shattered her control, sending heat outward until her fingertips throbbed.

  Her body quivered with aftershocks, over and over. Finally his fingers stopped moving.

  “Very nice,” he murmured, withdrawing his fingers from her anus and vagina, leaving emptiness behind. “You almost made it all the way through.”

  What? And she realized her legs lay sprawled open, no longer held against her chest. When had she let go?

  He stripped something off one finger, then removed his clothes and lay beside her, one hand idly stroking her breasts. His lips were firm as he took her mouth, plunging inside as thoroughly as he’d taken her below.

  She could taste herself on him. “How can you do those things?” she asked when he pulled back.

  “Do what?” He plucked at her nipple, sending little erratic jolts of arousal through her, like the sputtering of a damp candle.

  “Use your mouth. There. Doesn’t it—”

  “You taste like an aroused woman, laria, and nothing in the world is as delightful.” He licked his lips, and a grin flashed over his dark face. “Using my mouth and hands means I can concentrate on your pleasure. To bring a woman to fulfillment is satisfying.” His steel gray eyes were knowing as he added slowly, “I also enjoy making a woman whimper, quiver, and not come until I permit.”

  He must have seen her eyes widen, for a crease appeared in his cheek. “And you enjoy being that woman, laria.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’ve neglected your education, if you have to ask a question about taste.” He rolled onto his back and patted the mattress beside him. “Kneel here.”

  Giving him a quizzical look, she complied.

  He took one of her hands and placed it on his hard shaft. “Use your hands on me, laria, and then put those soft lips around me.”

  Her mouth dropped open.

  He chuckled, tracing her lips with one finger. “Yes, exactly there.”

  She couldn’t move, could only stare at him. After a minute, he released her fingers to put his hand behind his head and waited, studying her with a smile. He looked as if he’d wait all night for her to begin. Her gaze swept over his body. So…so male. Hard muscles covered his broad chest, and his biceps bulged where his arm flexed under his head. His abdomen was flat, with horizontal, muscular ridges. Her gaze skirted the next part to run down his thighs, which were dusted with black hair. Even his feet looked strong.

  She glanced at Dain. Amusement danced in his eyes, but he didn’t move. All right, then. She looked at her hand lying on his shaft and pressing it against his stomach. It was so big; she still couldn’t believe that it fit inside her. And so hard, only… The skin covering it felt softer than her own. The head bulged out like a mushroom cap, but slightly darker and smoother than the rest of his shaft. Like velvet. She ran her fingertip around the head, and his shaft twitched. She snatched her hand back. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. Had she hurt him?

  His deep, infectious laugh pulled a smile from her. “Little thief, when I lick over your somaline, do you jump because I hurt you?”

  The heat in her cheeks told her she was blushing. Again. But relief outweighed her embarrassment. She hadn’t caused him pain. In fact, he had basically said he liked that.

  As if he’d read her mind, he added, “I like your hands on me. Do to me whatever yo
u enjoy having me do to you, laria.”

  She bit her lip. Wasn’t it strange how touching him made her center all melty? Curving her hand around his thickness, she stroked up and down and felt him tighten. Increasingly interested, she played with him, tracing the curling veins, discovering the heavy balls buried in thick hair. Soft and crinkly. But she returned to the shaft. He’d licked her…

  Bending, she ran her tongue up it and heard him take a quick breath. A hint of a salty taste. His masculine scent was stronger, but almost heady, like when the orchestra starts to build and the parts come together. Curling her hand around him, she swirled her tongue on the tip and then took him into her mouth.

  He groaned, and not from pain. She hesitated. He was too big to lick like he had done to her. How did—

  His hand tangled in her hair, tugging her head down until his shaft went deeper in her mouth, then back up.

  Ah. She widened her knees for balance, gripped him more firmly at the base, and slid the top in and out of her mouth. She found that using her tongue made him fist his hand in her hair. Moving her hands up and down in the same way as her mouth made the muscles of his stomach tighten. Sucking netted her another groan.

  And made her wetter. Why did doing this for him excite her?

  He’d said licking her did the same to him.

  She could feel him getting harder. He pulled her away and flattened her on her back beneath him. Her head spun.

  He kissed her, long and hard and deep, before murmuring, “I haven’t had my control tested like that in years, little Earther.”

  After nudging her legs open, he knelt between them. Then, his grip ruthlessly strong, he set her feet on his shoulders, making her hips tilt up and exposing her below. “Stay right there,” he ordered.

  Her heart seemed to stutter at the dark look he gave her, and then he pressed himself against her and slid in, so hard and fast, she cried out. He went so deep, much deeper in this position, and she couldn’t find her breath. Yet the feeling of him inside her, taking her over, filling her impossibly full sent a shudder of need through her. Her insides burned for more.