He stepped away from her again and went back to wherever it was he put the water and camera. He moved around her, taking several closeups of the ruby clamps. “Your life with me isn’t going to be easy, Flambé, and I’m not going to pretend it will be, although I will always try to give you everything you want when I can. I’ll care for you with everything in me. You’ll have that. So that bullshit about not caring for you is just that—bullshit. I know you and your leopard can hear the truth.”
She could. The relief was so tremendous she wanted to cry. At the same time, she had been around so many male shifters who were so good at deceiving their mates that a part of her, that hurt part, filed the things those men said away in her head.
“I told you about the lair we came from. The women were murdered after they gave birth to sons. My own mother was murdered. Most times, the sons were expected to participate. I refused. Mitya refused. Gorya, Fyodor and Timur refused. We were forced to leave and all of us have a price on our heads. Again, I shared this with you. Maybe not the details because I don’t want you to have nightmares, but we got out.”
He suddenly looked directly at her again. “As for hunting the men Matherson had on my property, men he was using to try to kidnap you, damn straight I hunted them and I killed them. I sent him a message loud and clear that he wasn’t going to hurt you in any way. He went after you again and I sent him the same message. Mitya added an exclamation point by joining me. I don’t think he got exactly who he was messing with at first.”
He took several more photographs, put down the camera and then lowered her until her breasts were level with his mouth. “You have to be getting tired.” Very quickly he unscrewed the clamp on her right breast and as it dropped into his hand and the blood rushed painfully back, his mouth covered her nipple with soothing heat. He did the same to the left. All the while he tugged and played the rope like the artist he was so that it sang along her nerve endings, bringing them to vivid life.
“Sevastyan.” His name came out a plea. Almost a sob.
He quickly shoved the knots aside as he lowered his trousers and, digging his hands into her hips, slammed his cock into her inflamed, slick sheath. The aggressive thrust drove her bottom against the cross so that the thick knot tangled deep in the bundle of sensitive nerve endings. She cried out as flames seemed to lick at her body from the inside out.
He moved in her over and over, relentlessly, feeding the fire until it engulfed her, rushing over her so strongly there wasn’t one cell in her body that didn’t feel compromised, that didn’t feel the contractions in some powerful way.
He continued surging into her harder and deeper, rocking her body, when the solid boards behind her refused to allow any give to them. The position he had her tied had her wide open to him, completely allowing him to drive into her, angling his body to keep his cock positioned perfectly to cause the most friction over her inflamed clit, over her most sensitive spot where her sheath clamped so tightly down on him and grasped and milked at him greedily. Then she felt him erupting like pure fire, coating the walls of her sheath with molten seed, rope after rope triggering more violent shocks until she was hanging in the ropes, unable to keep her head up. Unable to think or breathe properly.
Sevastyan’s arms went around her and he lowered her right into his lap as he took her to the floor, loosening the ropes to allow her legs to straighten, rubbing the blood-flow back into them as he did. He quickly unknotted the chain of large knots from the diamond that looped from her front to her back, freeing that thong, and then the binding on her arms. He spent a great deal of time massaging her arms while she sat on his lap.
“I’ve got you, baby,” he murmured softly. “Just rest. You’re not hurt anywhere, are you? No place the rope was too tight?” He ran his hand expertly under the remaining halter to check that the bindings