Iron and Magic

She growled and tried to push him off her.

She wanted to fight.

The afterburn of the battle simmering under his skin took over and pushed him into overdrive. He felt hot and focused, the way he did before a kill. He pinned her down. She snapped her small white teeth at him again, and he muscled her back and kissed her neck, pinching the skin with his teeth, painting heat and lust down the slender column of her throat.

She moaned, strong and soft under him. He heard desire in the moan. She wanted him.

He let her have her right arm, and she punched him with her fist. He caught her wrist and kissed it, in just the right place, setting the nerves on fire. Elara struggled under him, trying to buck him off. The excitement took the last shreds of restraint he had. He forced her arms together over her head, grabbed them with his left hand, and let his right roam over her breasts. The rough calluses on his thumb snagged on her left nipple. She gasped. He dove down and sucked on the little dark bud.

Elara moaned.

He smelled the jasmine and green apple on her skin and it drove him wild. He ran his tongue over her nipple, winding her up. Her back arched. Her cool thighs squeezed his leg and she tried to grind against him, looking for his cock.

He was unbelievably strong. The feel of his huge body pressed against hers, all coiled power locked in hot muscle was almost too much. She wanted him desperately, she wanted his lips on her, his huge cock inside her. The need to have him pooled inside her, a hot, aching sensation somewhere on the verge of pain and pleasure.

He sucked on her breasts, squeezing them with his fingers, every stroke in just the right place, every touch with just the right pressure, as if he knew her body better than she did. She smelled the faint hint of sage and citrus from the soap and the heady scent of his sweat.

He was moving lower, his tongue painting heat down her body.

No, not yet. He hadn’t worked hard enough yet.

His hand slid off her right wrist. She sank her fingers into his hair and pulled. He jerked his face up and locked his lips on hers. His tongue thrust into her mouth, a hint of what was to come. She licked it and when they broke apart, she stared into Hugh’s blue eyes.

“Bastard!”

“Harpy.”

She slapped him.

He surged over her and flipped her on her stomach. His left hand caught her hair and he pulled her up, until she sat back on her knees, her spine pressed against his chest. His hand caught her ass from below. He squeezed it and pulled her up to her knees. She felt the blunt head of his cock press against her.

“Is this what you want?”

She struggled, caught by her hair, trying to pull free. His hand slid over her stomach. He yanked her closer and dipped his fingers into her. She was so wet and so ready, she nearly came.

He laughed into her ear. She jerked her head back, trying to ram his face with the back of her head, but missed. He grabbed her hips and jerked her onto him. His hard shaft slid inside her, thick and hot. Elara cried out.

“Is that why you came here?” He thrust into her again. The jolt of it sent electric shivers all through her.

“Harder, Hugh,” she breathed. “Harder.”

He thrust into her, again and again, each slide of his cock sending her closer and closer to the precipice. He let go of her hair. His hand caught her breast, his thumb flicking over her nipple in a rapid rhythm. The pressure built in her.

His thumb slid over her clit. She sucked in a breath against the sudden burst of pleasure.

He thrust deep. She shifted the angle of her hips and felt him rub against the inside of her.

He groaned, a harsh male sound filled with lust. It drove her wild. She was moaning now too.

He kept thrusting, his clever fingers teasing her.

She couldn’t catch her breath, caught between his hand and his hard shaft inside her. She was close, so close…

“Hugh,” she cried out. “Don’t stop. Don’t—”

The climax broke over her in a flood of heat and ecstasy. She slumped forward, feeling her body squeeze him in a steady rhythm, and he caught her before she hit the sheets and turned her over on her back. She floated in a fog of pleasure.

He grabbed her hips and pulled her, repositioning her on the bed. She was still floating when he opened her legs and knelt over her left thigh. He pushed her hips to the right, so her right leg wrapped around his waist, and thrust into her sideways. The unexpected pleasure dashed through her, tearing through the happy fog. On instinct, she tried to jerk upright. He pushed her back down and kept thrusting, finding a smooth rhythm.

She couldn’t move. She couldn’t shift her hips. She was completely at his mercy. He drove into her as if it were the only thing that mattered.

He was looking at her, his eyes a dark, vivid blue. His face turned harsh and slightly predatory, lost to lust. He bared his teeth and she realized the bastard was smiling.

Excitement and lust drowned her. Somewhere deep within, her rational mind acknowledged that watching him look at her made her want him more. It warned that she was surrendering some of her power. She snarled and tried to push away, but he held her down and went faster. His thick blunt shaft filled her with every move of his hips. The pleasure was exquisite.

A second climax began to build inside her.

He bent over her, blue eyes on fire. “Want me to let you go?”

She bit her lower lip, trying to keep from moaning. She knew exactly what this was – him proving that he could make her come without any help from her.

“All you have to do is say stop, Elara. Tell me to stop.”

Dear goddess, she didn’t want him to stop. “Fuck you,” she breathed.

“Lady’s choice.”

He hauled her upright and suddenly she was sitting on him as he sprawled on the sheets, huge and muscled like some hot dream.

“Fuck me, honey,” he dared.

And she did. She rode him, grinding her hips, taking his shaft inside her and letting it out as he kissed her neck and sucked her nipples, his hot hands locked on her ass, his fingers squeezing her and pulling her onto him.

The second orgasm washed over her, and she slumped over him, out of breath, her hair falling over their faces like a curtain hiding them from the rest of the world. The pleasure drained her so completely, she whimpered.

His lips found hers. He kissed her, and it was almost tender. Her head spun. She had to reassert herself, or she would kiss him back, and he would know she surrendered.

She arched her back and turned on him, facing his legs.

“Fun,” he growled. His thumb found the sensitive bundle of nerves between her cheeks, just above her anus. She rocked on him, slipping his shaft into her, and slid her hand over its base.

He swore.

She rode him again, her fingers squeezing and pumping him, milking his shaft as she thrust herself onto him. His body tensed under her, the powerful muscles growing tight from strain. She worked him faster, arching her back, pushing against his hand, slipping him in and out. Her magic slid out of her, winding around her in curls of white vapor. She was losing control.

His shaft thickened in her hand.

He swore again.

“Tell me to stop,” she told him.

He thrust into her, arching his hips. They built to a frenzied rhythm. The pleasure crested and broke in her. She cried out, her power simmering around her. He shook under her, every muscle taut with strain. She felt magic coursing through him, so powerful and bright, it shocked her. His shaft flexed in her hand. She felt the hot stream of his release inside her and let go, reveling in his pleasure. They stayed like that for a long moment, out of breath and slicked in sweat. He reached for her, pulled her down to him, and wrapped his arms around her, tucking her against his side.

Sex with Hugh d’Ambray. She should’ve never done it, because now she wanted more. He was the last person she should’ve given that much power over her. And he was holding her now. Being caged in his arms, stretched out next to him felt too good.

Elara sighed, still breathless. “Done, Preceptor?”

“I don’t know,” he said, his voice casual. “We still have a couple of hours until sunrise. Let’s see what happens.”

Elara stretched and slid off the bed. Hugh’s hand snapped out and locked on her wrist.

“Hands off,” she told him.

He leaned to glance out of the window, where gray pre-dawn light brightened the sky. “The sun isn’t up yet.”