Grievous (Wanted Men #5) - Nancy Haviland Page 0,73

the blade barely made contact. He traced her labia and even touched the tip to her clit.

“This blade would pass through my neck before I would allow it to deface your perfection. I am pleased you realize this.” He sliced through her panties, put the knife aside, and went at his meal with an intensity that had her fingers clawing and scratching at the polished wood while she spewed the dirtiest of curses. His long licks were enchanting, the short flicks of his tongue spell-binding. His sharp thrusts were pure torment. When he worked his hands under her ass and lifted her into him, Yasmeen had to bite her lip so she didn’t bellow her absolute love for what he was making her feel.

Her orgasm rushed in.

Lucian lifted his mouth away, forever in control of her pleasure.

She shook with need but didn’t utter a word.

He hesitated as he looked up at her. Then, holding her eyes, he went in hard, sucking noisily, nipping at her lips, fucking her with his tongue. Wet sounds mingled with their moans as she pushed against his face, meeting him.

“Lucian…?”

“Now, pet.”

She broke apart right in his hands. Her head fell back, her mouth opened, and a song came from her that would have told anyone within hearing distance that she was this man’s toy to do with as he pleased.

SIXTEEN

After feasting on his pet, as he was sure many a king had done before him at that very table, Lucian brought her to the dining room so she could do the same with a hot meal. He’d watched her eat the hearty braised lamb and sip at a fruity Bordeaux, and now observed her pleasure each time she took a drink of her macchiato. She had the most graceful hands. The tendons in her delicate wrists stood out whenever she picked up the bowl-shaped mug.

“Your passion for art; does it come out in any form from your own hand?”

She placed the mug down, looking ill-at-ease as she raised her shoulder in a shrug. “You told the lady who served us to commend her mother for the lovely meal. How many cooks do you have on staff?”

“Two. Why does my question make you uncomfortable?” He would have thought his need to know about her would please her. Women. It was no wonder he never bothered with anything more than their favorite position.

“The men I ran into that first night weren’t cooks?”

“They are no longer my cooks. Stop evading, Yasmeen.”

“I paint. Why are they no longer your cooks?”

“Because they eye-raped you. What do you paint?” He couldn’t imagine how beautiful she would be with a brush in her hand as she stood in front of an easel, lost in her vision. Naked. Paint splatters on her skin. Edible paint.

She was looking at him, wide-eyed. “What did you do to them?”

“Turned them loose. If you do not drop the secondary conversation, Teodora will come in to clear in the middle of me disciplining my pet. I do not think you want her to witness you sitting on your feet next to my chair with your head bowed and your mouth firmly closed.”

She flushed and shook her head. “No. I was just curious.”

“You are always curious.”

She nodded.

He hid a smile by taking a drink of his coffee. “Tell me about your painting.”

“Only if you reciprocate by telling me something about yourself.”

“Fine.”

He shifted, and feeling something dig into his thigh, he straightened his leg and took out the item he’d ordered yesterday. The Tiffany box had been delivered just before he’d gone up to look for Yasmeen. His time alone in the ballroom had been spent thinking about what he would do with his purchase. He opened it now and took out a glittering choker. The links were eighteen-karat white gold, as was the small diamond encrusted dog tag dangling in the center. There was one word engraved on the tag, and it had a small ring hidden behind it.

“It is a simple design, and nothing like the necklace I accidentally broke the day we arrived, but you will wear it anyway.”

She was looking with wide eyes from the box to the jewelry. “Mine was from a bauble store in a mall. And there was nothing accidental about you breaking it.”

She was right. He stood and went behind her chair. “Do not move,” he commanded in a tone she should recognize by now. She stopped her forward motion. “Sit back, please.” He waited until she obeyed. “You will accept my