stared at his hand. “Why?”
“Do it.” He opened his hand some more, turned it so it lay palm upward.
Her sigh made him smile, but she placed her hand in his. The little shock of contact raced into him and went straight to his groin, but he was watching her. Her lips parted, her pupils widened. She had it too.
After a few seconds where all she did was gape at him, her breasts rising and falling, he said softly, “I know you felt that. Admit it.”
Everywhere his hand touched hers seemed to pulse and their clasped hands felt as if they expanded, taking up more space than was possible, telling him and her, irrevocably: this is how it should be.
Her eyebrow status went from raised and startled to annoyed and frowny. She shook her head and her words were quiet but distinct. “No. It was nothing. We are nothing. You dream.”
He tensed, tightening his grip on her hand.
“Hey. Let go.” She tugged, her nostrils flaring, her lips white. “Let go of my hand, mister nothing –”
The tipping point hit him. He did possess one of those. Rarely did this happen in battle or in life in general, but now...
He snarled, shoved back his chair, while still holding her hand down then he hauled her forward across the table. Plates clattered to the floor. The wine bottle tipped, though he caught it and set it down on his chair. Then he stood and went around to her side while keeping her in place with that hand and the other across her nape. She spluttered protests and he ignored them.
He was angry. Going berserk in battle was a known phenomenon but not really his way. He kept himself close, controlled, when fighting.
Ella though. She’d broken him, broken his resolve to be nice.
The cloth napkin drew his eye. He picked it up, wrenched one of her hands then the other to her back, and used the napkin to tie her wrists together. Though she cursed some more, he noted they were quiet ones. His temper had cooled. She knew people would hear if she screamed, yet she stayed quiet. It was as telling as anything.
He flipped up her dress to her waist and swore a few curses himself at the sight of her flame red panties and the double swell of her ass straining at the cloth.
With his legs jammed against the back of her thighs to keep her in place, still facedown across the table, he cut the sides of her panties with her table knife. That made her swear louder than before and writhe against his hold. The whole platter toppled from the table.
“You! You cut them? What a waste.”
“No, the food falling on the floor was a waste. You liked the underwear? Good. That will teach you not to be such a bitch about bondmating.”
Panting, she said into the table, “You don’t even know what a bitch is.”
“Female earth creature that’s in heat? That’s you.”
Her ass was exposed like this. He stared down at her, shifted his legs so her own were spread even more.
“I could feel your wetness through my pants. You’re such a liar, Ella.”
“It was just... I was...”
While she was still unnerved, he turned his hand palm upward, lined up his middle finger on her slit, touching the very center. Back and forth, he worked his fingertip between her pussy lips until it was barely through the entrance, then he slipped it in. Like sliding through honey, his finger went inside her to the max, only stopping when the skin between his fingers pushed into her. Her squeal was electrifying so he squeezed it in even farther while keeping her in place with his hand clawed into one ass cheek.
“Stop, stop, stop. Wait.”
But when he withdrew and slipped a second finger into her beside the first, she moaned and slumped into the table.
“Holding hands was good, wasn’t it? I’m guessing from your noises that this is better.”
He leaned down until he could see her one visible eye, see her focus on him and blink. She turned her face and licked her lips as if to speak.
“You –”
“What?” As he spoke, he jammed his fingers in and out
“Do it.” He opened his hand some more, turned it so it lay palm upward.
Her sigh made him smile, but she placed her hand in his. The little shock of contact raced into him and went straight to his groin, but he was watching her. Her lips parted, her pupils widened. She had it too.
After a few seconds where all she did was gape at him, her breasts rising and falling, he said softly, “I know you felt that. Admit it.”
Everywhere his hand touched hers seemed to pulse and their clasped hands felt as if they expanded, taking up more space than was possible, telling him and her, irrevocably: this is how it should be.
Her eyebrow status went from raised and startled to annoyed and frowny. She shook her head and her words were quiet but distinct. “No. It was nothing. We are nothing. You dream.”
He tensed, tightening his grip on her hand.
“Hey. Let go.” She tugged, her nostrils flaring, her lips white. “Let go of my hand, mister nothing –”
The tipping point hit him. He did possess one of those. Rarely did this happen in battle or in life in general, but now...
He snarled, shoved back his chair, while still holding her hand down then he hauled her forward across the table. Plates clattered to the floor. The wine bottle tipped, though he caught it and set it down on his chair. Then he stood and went around to her side while keeping her in place with that hand and the other across her nape. She spluttered protests and he ignored them.
He was angry. Going berserk in battle was a known phenomenon but not really his way. He kept himself close, controlled, when fighting.
Ella though. She’d broken him, broken his resolve to be nice.
The cloth napkin drew his eye. He picked it up, wrenched one of her hands then the other to her back, and used the napkin to tie her wrists together. Though she cursed some more, he noted they were quiet ones. His temper had cooled. She knew people would hear if she screamed, yet she stayed quiet. It was as telling as anything.
He flipped up her dress to her waist and swore a few curses himself at the sight of her flame red panties and the double swell of her ass straining at the cloth.
With his legs jammed against the back of her thighs to keep her in place, still facedown across the table, he cut the sides of her panties with her table knife. That made her swear louder than before and writhe against his hold. The whole platter toppled from the table.
“You! You cut them? What a waste.”
“No, the food falling on the floor was a waste. You liked the underwear? Good. That will teach you not to be such a bitch about bondmating.”
Panting, she said into the table, “You don’t even know what a bitch is.”
“Female earth creature that’s in heat? That’s you.”
Her ass was exposed like this. He stared down at her, shifted his legs so her own were spread even more.
“I could feel your wetness through my pants. You’re such a liar, Ella.”
“It was just... I was...”
While she was still unnerved, he turned his hand palm upward, lined up his middle finger on her slit, touching the very center. Back and forth, he worked his fingertip between her pussy lips until it was barely through the entrance, then he slipped it in. Like sliding through honey, his finger went inside her to the max, only stopping when the skin between his fingers pushed into her. Her squeal was electrifying so he squeezed it in even farther while keeping her in place with his hand clawed into one ass cheek.
“Stop, stop, stop. Wait.”
But when he withdrew and slipped a second finger into her beside the first, she moaned and slumped into the table.
“Holding hands was good, wasn’t it? I’m guessing from your noises that this is better.”
He leaned down until he could see her one visible eye, see her focus on him and blink. She turned her face and licked her lips as if to speak.
“You –”
“What?” As he spoke, he jammed his fingers in and out
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