With a ragged groan, he continued softly thrusting through our mixed orgasms, while I was left dazed.
All my senses zeroed in on him, only him: his pounding heartbeat, the cool fan of his breaths on my skin, the warmth of his c*ck still joining us.
When my head lolled back against his shoulder, he pressed kisses to my neck.
I roused somewhat when applause broke out, peppered with catcalls and whistles. I expected a blistering wave of embarrassment, but I was still too overwhelmed to react. A quick scan of the ring showed out-of-breath lovers, silks and velvets wetted from releases, glistening mouths and chins.
As we stared at the glass, Sevastyan wrapped one muscular arm around my neck, another around my waist, squeezing me close to show his claim.
Sensing his fury blazing out at the others, I peeked up at him.
No, he hadn’t liked displaying me; now that the heat of the moment had passed, he was baring his teeth. “Given them far too much of you.” He reached over to the table and pressed a button on the remote.
We were concealed once more.
Chapter 36
The thunderous applause continued, even after the glass was blacked out.
Yet I couldn’t regret anything once I heard Sevastyan’s voice suffused with pride: “My fantasy made flesh. I should never have doubted you to know your own mind.” He gingerly pulled out of me, zipping himself back up as he moved to face me.
He brushed damp hair from my brow, his expression alternately possessive and . . . awed.
But when I shivered, he turned all businesslike. With swift, efficient movements, he released my raised knee and removed my ankle cuffs, then reached for my br**sts, for the clamps.
He unscrewed a bolt, loosening the metal at one end. “This will hurt, love,” he murmured as he eased it off my left nipple.
Blood rushed into it. I had to choke back a cry.
He took the throbbing peak into his mouth, stroking with his tongue to help with the pain. The right one was worse because I knew what to expect. The instant the clamp was off, he moved to that nipple. “Shh, love,” he soothed against the tip, “there, it’s almost over. . . .”
With my next shiver, he broke away, returning with a white, fluffy robe over his arm. He held it at the ready as he freed my cuffs from the ceiling chain. I collapsed into his waiting arms, cocooned by the pillow of the robe.
I trembled against him as he removed one wrist cuff and kissed the damp skin beneath it. He repeated his kiss with the other. “You’re free now.”
Such loaded words; I’d already been freed. He’d described this kind of behavior as a descent. It was just the opposite. With this man, I had flown. I’d soared. In a way, to submit . . . was to ascend.
Maybe I was still flying. Everything seemed muted and soft, the lights dimmer.
“How do you feel?”
“Little dizzy,” I said in a scratchy voice. “What happens now?” There would be time enough to disbelieve what I’d just done. But tonight I was just going to roll with it.
“I’m taking you home.” He guided my limp arms into the robe sleeves. “I expect you to relax and worry about nothing while I cosset you.”
I could deal with that.
He bundled me up, cradling me against his chest, then carried me from our room.
Would we have to see those people? Go through the ballroom? When I stiffened, he said, “We’re going out a private exit, love. The car’s waiting.”
Even when we were ensconced in the back of the limo and under way, Sevastyan didn’t release me, keeping me on his lap. He removed my mask and his own, then reached into the cooler for a bottle of orange juice. “Drink.” He held it up to my lips.
I quirked a brow. “No warm milk?”
“You have no idea how hard your body worked tonight. I want you to come down softly.”
I took a sip of the juice—had to be the best I’d ever tasted. It was everything I could do not to chug it like a frat boy on a keg nozzle. “What do you mean by coming down?”