Page 27 of Balthazar's Fire

Stretching out before her, he ripped the silver package with his teeth at the same time his hand unleashed his enormous erection. She eyed his girth hungrily, tingling with need as he slid the sheath over it and eased the condom down his long shaft.

“Come here.” Beckoning her forward with one finger, his other hand supported her as she straddled his thighs, and he positioned the crown of his cock by her wet entrance. “You’re going to ride me, Cherie.”

“Yes, sir.”

After all his sensual torment, she didn’t need to be asked twice. Pushing down on his satisfying length, she moaned as he filled her and her clit scraped against his hot flesh. Their guttural mewls combined as she bucked against him, relishing every inch he had to offer.

“That’s it,” he enthused, reaching past her bound arms to cradle her breasts. Teasing her excited buds, he groaned as she clenched around his shaft. “Just like that and this time when you’re close to the edge, you have my permission to splinter.”

His permission?

The thought ricocheted around her head as her hips found their groove.

I need his permission to come.

The thought should have been disconcerting, yet as their passions collided, nothing had ever sounded so fucking sexy. Balthazar was a revelation. A man who could both defend and torment her, and seemed able to read her body language as though he’d written the handbook.

Lost in the flurry of their carnal desire, she leaned over him, resting her bound arms on his muscular abdominals as her hips snapped back and she rode him over and over again. For one glorious moment, their gazes locked, his brown eyes scorching as she clenched around his cock.

“Fuck!” Throwing his head back, Balthazar’s jaw tightened as his hunger heightened. “That’s magnificent, Cherie. Don’t stop!”

She might have snorted at the hypocrisy of his demand, when he had been the one who’d denied her pleasure for so long, but in the throes of fervor she could only concur with his assertion.

Don’t stop, don’t stop.

Whatever happened, she never wanted this to stop.

Her body stiffened at the crescendo, her lips parting reflexively as the wave crashed over her. Staring down at the man who had more than mastered her, she registered the instant he surrendered to his own orgasm. Dazed by the intensity, she soared on their swelling passion until her thighs succumbed to the intolerable pressure of holding her up and she collapsed over his chest.

Panting for breath, her eyes closed as his huge hands grasped her ass. Resting against him, she whimpered as he milked the last remnants of his pleasure, content to be used, just as she’d been happy to be devoured, and as his satiated sighs filled the air, all she could see, smell, and think about was him.

Balthazar, Balthazar, Balthazar.

She didn’t know who he really was, or why he’d been so fiercely thrown into her life, but her heart was filled with gratitude that their paths had crossed.

“Are you okay?” One of his hands rose from her backside to her shoulder, stirring her gently.

“More than okay, sir.” Rising over him, she smiled, contracting around him when their eyes met. He looked even more gorgeous now that he was sprawled and disheveled.

Mine.

The word echoed in her mind, although it had no place there. He wasn’t hers. She’d only known him for just over a day.

“You’re wonderful.” Reaching for her cheek, he stroked her skin tenderly.

“Thank you.” She didn’t know what else to say. None of her prior lovers had been as dominant, as kind or as satisfying. Balthazar had torn through most of her defenses in one fell swoop.

“How did you find this?” He gestured to the tie still wound around her wrists, his fingers lowering to graze over the fabric.

“Incredible.”

There seemed little point in lying to him. She hadn’t known him long, but Cherie felt as though they were past the point of needless pretense, as if, in that short amount of time, Balthazar knew her in a way that nobody else did. He’d enabled her to revel in a long-held fantasy by allowing her to become the one thing she had always sought to avoid being: vulnerable.

“Yes.” His grin grew. “You did seem to enjoy yourself, but I’m in no way complaining.”

Sensing embarrassment burning at her face, her bound hands rose to conceal her shame, but Balthazar only shook his head, reaching for her fingers and stopping her.

“Don’t.” His voice was consoling; that same smooth tone that had lulled her with such ease. Any trace that he’d lost control in the precipice of pleasure had vanished to the mists of her memories. “Your blush is beautiful.”