His Highness the Duke (7 page)

service to you this night.‖ He moved toward the table and pinched a fruit nipple from

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His Highness The Duke

the mound of cream. Every practical thought left her. Her nipples strained against the

gown, instantly becoming hard and sensitive. Bron turned, carrying the pinched fruit

toward her. Thick cream ran slowly down his thumb to his wrist. Lifting it near her

mouth, he let the fruit brush against her bottom lip. ―I will be happy to feed you, my

lady.‖

―That won‘t be necessary,‖ she whispered, not really paying attention to her own

words.

―Necessary? No. But very enjoyable.‖

Aeron was at a complete loss for words. She didn‘t even know how to begin to

answer. His eyes stayed on hers as he leaned forward to her lips. His tongue darted out

to lick the cream he‘d rubbed against her. A low moan left him. A loud gasp escaped

her. She jumped back, instantly rubbing her mouth. He grinned, making a confident

show of placing the fruit between his teeth and chewing, before licking the cream off his

hand.

―I understand there are not many women on your planet, but I am not here to

entertain offers of physical sex,‖ Aeron said.

―We are not allowed to be completely intimate this night, Aeron, so there is no

reason for you to worry,‖ he answered.

―Oh.‖ Was that disappointment she was feeling? Aeron forced the feeling away.

She couldn‘t have sex. Ever. To do so would be to sign her own death sentence.

―But we can enjoy ourselves, explore,‖ he paused, reaching for his waist.

Unashamedly, he pulled at his loincloth, turning the material to the side in such a way

as to bare the front of his waist and hips. His cock was full, as if volunteering to be the

source of her exploration. ―Touch, kiss.‖ He quickly hooked his finger in the front of her

gown and jerked her forward. The motion caused her bodice to slip off a breast. His

hand replaced the material, cupping the soft globe. ―I wish to pleasure you.‖

―We shouldn‘t. I can‘t. I‘m here to talk to one of your—‖

―Shh, tonight is not for such things,‖ Bron admonished. ―The only business to be

discussed tonight is that of marriage.‖

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Michelle M. Pillow

His hands began to move over her body—sliding up her hip, molding against

her breast, traveling along the fastenings of the gown to quickly do away with the

impeding garment. Flesh met flesh.

―I thought we couldn‘t be completely intimate,‖ she whispered.

―Would you like me to bathe you?‖ he asked in his irritatingly seductive accent.

―I don‘t do this kind of thing,‖ she answered.

―I could feed you. Or we could lie on the bed if you prefer?‖ His hands reached

around for her ass, pulling her tight against him. ―If you are fearful of me, I will gladly

let you tie me down and have control.‖

His eyes glinted with an inner fire. Aeron had seen many alien species. Well,

she‘d actually read about them in Federation databases more than seen them up close

and personal. She wondered what that little light meant, if anything. Did his eyes see

things differently than hers?

―You may explore every inch of me,‖ he offered. ―I will not stop you.‖

She automatically looked down. It was a mistake. The distinctive press of his

male honor lifted between his thighs. He made no move to hide it. She clamped her legs

together.

―Or I will be honored to explore you first,‖ he lowered his voice to a whisper.

―Please, give me permission to pleasure you. Let me put my tongue between your legs.‖

―I don‘t think we should be having this kind of conversation.‖ Aeron took a deep

breath.

―If not my tongue, then at least my hand?‖ The back of his hand brushed low

against her stomach, tickling with the gentleness of it. She felt the cool air against her

naked breasts but couldn‘t summons the willpower to cover them. Her nipples strained

for his heat. ―Let me taste you on my fingers.‖

His hand slid lower as a fingertip reached the top of her slit. Cream moistened

her sex in anticipation. She dug her toes into the fur rug. Aeron didn‘t dare move.

―I don‘t think we should be doing this.‖ She pushed at his chest. There was no

moving him. Her hands slipped along his flesh in an unintentional caress. His breathing

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His Highness The Duke

deepened and he let loose a long, low growl. The finger hovering near her pussy didn‘t

move.

―Mm, shall I kiss you?‖

―I don‘t think we‘re having the same conversation.‖ Aeron knew she should put

up a fight, or protest, or at least remember herself long enough to form a good

argument as to why this should not be happening at all.

―Shall I massage you?‖

―Ok, we really are not having the same conversation. I need you to stop so I can

think.‖ Her entire length tingled, from the top of her head, down to her aching breasts

and damp sex, straight to her curling toes.

Bron sighed and let her go. His expression fell. ―Very well. It will be as you wish

for the moment, but I will ask you again and you will eventually give in to me.‖

Aeron had not expected him to stop. She stood naked before him. His eyes

roamed unabashedly over her flesh, openly examining every inch. She quickly gathered

her gown and struggled to put it on.

―Though I do enjoy undressing you, there is no need to put the gown on. I‘ve

already memorized every sweet inch of you, my lady.‖ His grin was positively wicked.

He took the finger that had been so close to giving her a bit of pleasure and lifted it to

his lips. He tapped it against the firm line of his mouth as he smiled. Then, licking the

digit, he let it drop. Aeron felt the caress as if it had been against her clit. Bron radiated

potent sexuality.

―Explore?‖ Aeron shivered. Had she just said that?

He grinned. By all the stars in the galaxy, that look was incredibly sexy. ―If you

wish.‖

Aeron glanced at the bed to where he‘d laid the straps and then to the opening of

the tent. ―No one will come?‖

Bron leapt onto the bed in one graceful movement. The loincloth righted itself,

hiding his arousal from view as it fell into place. Seconds later he was on his back, arms

and legs spread, ready to be tied. ―No one will come unless I summon them.‖

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Michelle M. Pillow

Aeron bit her lip, considering his words. When would she get another

opportunity to touch a man? Especially a man who looked as good as this one did? A

man whose customs didn‘t allow him to finish what they started? When would she get

to look at one up close without fear of it going too far? Maybe they could play, just a

little. She was allowed to seek pleasure, just not sex. Before she fully finished the

thought process, she was tying up one of his wrists to the corner post of the bed. He

didn‘t resist.

When she‘d bound the remaining limbs, leaving him vulnerable to her whims,

she stepped back to admire her work. Muscles strained bronzed flesh, just as his arousal

strained the fur loincloth. His hips adjusted beneath the material, moving erotically

back and forth in invitation.

A little dizzy from nerves, she went to the food table and grabbed the pitcher of

wine and poured a generous amount into the goblet. The strong liquor burned a little,

much more potent than the berry wine from the feast. She coughed, but managed to

finish the whole goblet. Aeron welcomed the numbing fire unfurling in her stomach ad

throat.

Lowering her chin, she considered where she was. The man on the bed watched

her with a strange mix of anticipation and patience. She moved along the edge of the

tent, careful not to step too close to the torches. The firelight only added to the surreal

scene, as it danced along the walls. As she passed by the straps, she grabbed a long one,

considering blindfolding him so she didn‘t have to stare into those dark, penetrating

eyes.

Aeron continued around the tent to the bath. The water was still hot and she

wondered at it as she watched the steam curl and dissipate. Seeing a bottle of rubbing

oil, she grabbed that as well. By the time she traveled around the entire tent to stand at

the end of the bed, he was breathing hard. His eyes narrowed. There was a predatory

intensity to his expression.

―Undress for me,‖ he ordered. Then, as if trying to amend the harsh tone, he

added, ―please.‖

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His Highness The Duke

Aeron put the bottle of oil by his feet, moved toward the head of the bed, and

laid the strap over his eyes. He instantly sensed what she was about to do and lifted up.

She tied it loosely around his head.

―If you will not undress yourself, undress me,‖ he said as she tightened the knot

against his temple. When she was done, he dropped his head back down on the

mattress.

Now that he couldn‘t watch her with those intense eyes, she went to the bottle

and opened it. His muscles tightened, flexing and releasing. He breathed in deeply, as if

he could already smell the oil. She touched the arch of his foot and his leg jerked as if

she‘d burned him. Aeron became bolder, dripping oil on his skin. No one would know.

No one would care. Bron was willing. She was willing. She risked nothing by satisfying

her curiosity.

Fingers glided over taut flesh. Though her hands were rubbing his legs, her eyes

were on his manhood. She watched it for movement. A low moan escaped him as she

pushed her hands higher. Liquor curled through her veins, lightening her head until

she couldn‘t think past the moment.

Her body ached for more contact. Aeron‘s hands met the fur of his loincloth. His

hips lifted toward her, rocking gently, up and down, up and down, in an agonizingly

seductive rhythm. A glance at his handsome face told her he was still blindfolded. She

pulled at the fur, slowly stripping it from him. She kneeled between his thighs. Her

hands were still slick with oil as she touched his shaft.

―Ah!‖ He jerked hard.

Aeron smiled, enjoying her new toy. She‘d seen pictures, but never one up close,

in the flesh. She traced her finger along the head before moving down the shaft to the

root. Stroking it harder, she pulled her hand up. His hips lifted off the bed.

Aeron‘s breathing deepened, taking in the musk of oil and the fresh scent of his

skin. Her clothes felt tight so she pulled the gown off and tossed it aside. Getting more

oil, she rubbed it on her sensitive breasts. Trails of the liquid ran down her stomach. She

felt each one like a caress.

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Michelle M. Pillow

―Untie me.‖ Bron groaned.

She leaned over him to wipe her dripping stomach against his. Instead, his shaft

was in the way and she ended up sliding against the length of it. Aeron‘s entire body

jolted with awareness and pleasure. She kept her body down, pushing up his chest. Her

breasts dragged along him until their nipples touched. Oh, but it felt glorious, unlike

anything she‘d ever tried. She did it again. And again. And again. And again.

Her breathing became ragged. Bron moved beneath her, helping her to slide. Her

legs worked over his hips so she could feel the hard ripple of his stomach along her sex.

The sensation was nothing like when she pleasured herself. She moaned softly, running

her hands over his chest and neck, shoulders and arms.

―Untie me,‖ he said, this time louder.

She didn‘t listen. Her butt slid against his shaft, opening her up to a myriad of

new sensations. Aeron lifted her hips, angling her body so that her sex pressed tightly

against his. It felt as if his body had been created to fit hers. She gasped, rocking along

his shaft. It glided in her natural cream.

―Aeron, we must not,‖ Bron gasped, even as his body moved in rhythm to hers.

―We must… tradition.‖

The friction of his rod against her clit was too much. She felt the pleasure

building. She wanted more, needed more. Her hands dug into his chest as she braced

herself.

Bron growled. The skin beneath her hands hardened, turning a dark brown. A

line grew out from his forehead, pushed forward to make a hard plate of impermeable

tissue over his nose and brow. Talons grew from his nail beds and deadly fangs

extended from his mouth. With supernatural strength, he ripped through the binds on

his arms. Aeron stopped moving, teetering on the edge of pleasure. Excitement pumped

through her veins to see the shift in him. He tore the blindfold from his head. His eye

yellowed, the darkness in them disappearing.

―What are you?‖ she whispered, awed by the change in him. Her nails scratched

his chest but the new texture was as hard as metal.

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His Highness The Duke

As fast as it came, the shifted form left. Her nails bit into his chest and her hands

molded into his skin. His voice hoarse, he answered, ―Dragon shifter.‖ But his

concentration wasn‘t on his words. He grabbed her hips and lifted her. Aeron felt

herself on the brink of pushing down. A moment of confusion passed between them.

The length of his shaft found it‘s opening, probing just inside the depths.

Something rational tried to work its way into her brain, but the thought never

fully formed. Everything centered on that moment and the next blissful sensation. At

the same second he closed his eyes and pulled her down onto his shaft, she released the