Page 13 of The Pactbound Angel (The Soul Mirror Duet #1)

Satisfied the assignment was understood, he let go of my wrist, bringing both hands back to my neck as my eyes closed.

It felt as though I had been running. He responded by kissing along my forehead, then moving to my ears, sucking and nipping on the lobe before going to my jawline and neck.

Each brush of his mouth or teeth spun me higher.

Pressure built in my stomach. My chest. And, most especially, between my legs where the pleasant pulsing turned exquisitely intense.

I breathed in deeply, feeling like my lungs couldn’t get enough air.

He wore no cologne, but as his black hair came closer, I detected the faint scent of honey.

A wild thought made me wonder if he was from beeswax in his pomade.

He couldn’t naturally smell like that, could he?

Whatever the reason, it was a warm aroma, and my muscles loosened.

Letting out a soft moan again, my head turned towards him.

He murmured, “And, finally, here…”

He covered my mouth with a kiss, his tongue sliding over my lips and tongue as I opened for him. If his hands were warm, his mouth was molten. A muffled squeak escaped my throat as I went stiff.

Is this too much? Aren’t we supposed to focus on him?

But after a moment, my own questions disintegrated with a low hum against his mouth. My body melted as his chest lowered to mine, noting the lean, hard ridges of his form. His body heat radiated through his clothing, and my chest rose to absorb the warmth. It felt like the coziest blanket .

My unpracticed and fumbling fingertips swirled around a sensitive area that made me shudder. My unpracticed tongue flicked at his, and I perfectly hit the small space between the forks. When he suddenly broke the kiss, I opened my eyes to see him staring down at my face in astonishment.

“Is something wrong? Did I-?”

He shook his head, “No.” His eyes on me, he nudged my hand to the side with his own. His fingers circled, finding places I had not, making me suck in a sharp breath.. A pleasant pressure joined the pulsing and began to build.

“I’m going to enter you now. Again, please stop me if it is too much or if you feel uncomfortable.

This is meant to be pleasurable, not painful.

” When his finger entered me, I stiffened again, expecting pain, but none came.

The pleasure had dimmed slightly, but not gone away.

Now, it was more teasing and tender, but still foreign.

Gripping his clothing as a reflex, my breath came in fast gasps.

More wetness pooled, easing his movements.

Then the pressure spiked without warning, and my head leaned back to let out a long, low moan that rumbled in my chest.

He spoke, saying something no doubt important, but I couldn’t hear him.

A second finger joined his first, moving them in and out and then curving them in a 'come hither' beckoning motion.

The unfamiliar stretch burned, not like fire but scorching all the same.

His thumb pushed past my saturated curls, finding a particular spot that sent my head spinning.

My arched feet and curling toes rubbed against the soft quilt, causing friction on my inner thighs with his hand. A strained whimper left my lips.

Ramiren positioned himself catlike on the bed at my feet and eased his way up between my thighs, running his hands up my legs to my hips.

He parted me and began to lower his mouth.

When I lifted my head to look down at him, confusion set in.

“I fail to see hoooooooo- oh gods, what are you doing?” When he flicked his tongue straight through the center in a long, languid stroke, I shrieked as the back of my head hit the pillow.

Slapping both hands over my traitor mouth, the pressure and warmth combined with the pulsing between my legs where his lips and tongue moved in an intricate pattern only he knew.

I had no idea what needed to happen aside from never, ever stopping this.

A gentle draft from somewhere ghosted over the gathering sweat on my body, producing a shiver.

Can’t take much more..

My hips tried to rise, but his fingers held them down. My watery eyes closed shut.

Need to move.

My thighs contracted, on their own volition, around his temples and the gentle points of his black horns bit into my legs. Somehow, they added to the delicious and new sensations spreading through me. The intense pressure became more and more consuming. Ever building and never stopping.

I felt soft hair in my fingers, vaguely aware my hands had left my mouth without me consciously moving them.

It was silky in my hands. A strangled sob escaped from me.

My breathing came in harsh pants. My hips pressed into his mouth, rhythmically as the act took over.

With my legs shaking and my breathing shallow and high-pitched, I whispered wonderingly, "A-aren't you getting. ..tired?"

Don’t be tired.

He made a noise indicating he was not, and the vibration caused me to writhe. A tightness enveloped me, as though my whole body was poised for something. It was too much. It was all too much.

Don’t stop.

I heard a feminine voice, soft but clear, say a word. Cordani.

With no idea what it meant, or where it came from, I didn’t care in the slightest.

Ramiren’s fingers suddenly sank deeper into my skin.

The pattern he traced with his mouth turned frantic as he laved me.

When he let out a guttural groan, the pressure tipped.

The room spun. The warmth spread to my whole body, and a sharp sensation rose upward and peaked, centered between my thighs until it exploded.

I saw stars. My head fell back as I let out a moaning scream that echoed throughout the small room. His licks turned soft and soothing.

After I quieted, still trying to catch my breath, he stood on the side of the bed and looked down at me.

“Are you alright to continue?” He gazed down at me patiently. His chest rose and fell with his deep breaths, as though he was trying to settle himself, though he otherwise seemed self-controlled.

Him now. The whole reason I’m here.

Anticipation flooded me as I nodded.

"I mentioned hands and mouth as our basic tools. We're going to focus on your mastery of using both, at first. I want you to focus on the best, most pleasurable techniques from what we just did as you do this next part.”

It was frankly adorable he thought I was coherent enough to pay attention to technique while he had his mouth on me.

“Enthusiasm, desire just sort of desperation, is at least as important as technique. It is a common expectation of men, and, I’ve found especially of noble men, for you to at least appear to want what is happening quite badly.

Men are visual creatures. If they see you are enjoying yourself, it will only encourage their own desire.

However, I will be honest with you. Many do not care what pleasure you derive from this, but I hope in your case you are paired with one who does. Does that make sense?"

I wanted to laugh. Women talk, Ramiren. “Mm-hmm.”

He began to undress and folded his clothing to place them beside my gown on the dresser.

I watched as his body was revealed to me, piece by piece, noting the tightly muscled, lean figure he was until he stood naked in front of me.

My gaze went down, down, and thankfully my face didn’t heat.

Don’t be rude. My eyes met his to see he was definitely amused .

Wait. Appear to want it?

"But is it alright if I do actually want it? Whatever it is? You said appear to ."

He pursed his lips, as though trying to hold in a broad smile.

“Of course, that's alright. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

You can tell me if you do want it, or keep that secret for yourself, as you desire.

I want you, as we start, to kneel in front of me on the floor.

Grip the base of my cock with one hand. Avoid using your teeth at all times.

You'll start slowly at first, your lips and tongue on the tip and moving down the shaft, while you pull from the base in the direction opposite from the base with your hand.

We'll move to the bed if we need to, but you can play some by increasing the pull to a caress as my cock becomes slick while you flutter your tongue.

I'll let you set the pace, but it should build in speed and intensity.

Don't hold back any sighs or moans while you're doing this. Allow me to show you.”

The lump in my throat almost choked me. My tutors never talked like this.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and beckoned me to scoot towards him.

He took my right hand, folding all fingers down except for my index.

He looked at me, over the rim of his glasses, before closing his eyes as his lips wrapped around the tip of my finger.

I stared at him, caught, as I felt his tongue glide over the underside of my finger, and then flicked forward.

A gentle sucking sensation accompanied his licks, and my finger slid farther into his mouth until he reached the top of my palm.

The finger came out again, and then back in.

I felt no teeth or anything sharp, just a pleasant, warm wetness.

I watched his jaw undulate with his tongue’s motions.

I tried to pay close attention to what he was doing, the speed, the depth, and his tongue flicks, but my vision became hazy as he continued.

The warmth between my legs renewed, and I shifted on the bed as my breathing picked up.

Then my finger exited his mouth with a soft pop .

“Your turn.” He grabbed a pillow from behind me and stood back up, moving a few steps away. He tossed the pillow to the floor in front of him and gave me an encouraging smile, extending a hand to me.