Page 37 of Drawn into Oblivion

“Oh,” she said with a shiver. There was heat everywhere, but especially in her cheeks and low in her belly. He was really going to do what she asked, without reservation. Then a horrid thought occurred to her. “But what of the s-smell?” His smile widened, and before she could guess his intention, he brazenly pressed his face to the apex of her thighs, deeply inhaling her scent through her dress. “Rosuke!”

His deep moan made her heart leap. She tried to push him away, mortified despite the thrill. He leaned back, and she stilled as his eyes met hers once again. He looked almost drunk.

“You smell like dessert.” He tugged at her belt, loosening it slowly. “As honey-sweet as your mouth.”

Eyebrows slanted with confusion, she fidgeted with the edge of his shirt collar. “What do you mean?”

“Perhaps I’m simply imagining it, but lately when we kiss, you taste of honey even though there was none with dinner.”

Comprehension dawned, and the click of her thoughts falling into place seemed almost audible. “He must have done something.”

Rosuke paused, eyebrows pinched. “He?”

“The Divine One,” she clarified. “He visited me after the genesis spell and said he had given me a gift, but it was more of a gift for my suitor. The last thing he said was ‘sweet Mai.’”

“Then he…made you sweet. Literally.” Rosuke groaned as he unwound her belt. “I can’t wait to taste you.” He spread her dress wide, and the silky material slipped off her shoulders to catch in the bends of her elbows, revealing her bare skin to his eyes for the first time. It had been too dark in the changing room to see much.

She gasped as she clutched her robe shut, blushing hot and bright from the roots of her hair to her fingertips. No man had ever seen her naked. She didn’t mind perhaps letting him see one part of her at a time, but all of her at once?

Rosuke had seen only a second’s glimpse, but his lust roared to life and begged for a longer look. He groped for her wrists with trembling fingers.

“Let me see, sweet girl. Show me all of you.” He spread her arms wide and held her there. Though she fidgeted and clamped her thighs together, she didn’t resist, and he drank in the sight of her—the graceful flare of her hips, the generous curves of her breasts, and the shapely contours of her legs. She had a small freckle on one hip and a larger one below her navel. He licked his lips, wanting to kiss those tempting marks.

Inevitably, his gaze was drawn to the thatch of hair shielding her sex, and lingered there. He imagined all the things he wanted to do to her, all the ways he’d touch her to make her sob with pleasure. Only a couple involved magic. Most simply required a long, undisturbed afternoon. Did the water-district merchants in Kaisui still sell that stimulating body oil, he wondered.

Dueling gods, she would faint if she could read his thoughts.

Mai anxiously watched his reaction and the direction of his gaze. He seemed transfixed. His breaths deepened the lower his eyes went, and she swore she felt his stare like a warm caress.

“Say something,” she whispered. His throat moved as he swallowed, and he looked up at her.

“Perfect. Utter perfection.” She had never heard his voice so rough and breathless—almost a growl, as if a primitive part of him were speaking. A part that could not lie or exaggerate. The tone more than the compliment made her heart race.

He pulled her down to him. “Just lie back,” he instructed when she sat. “I’ll only use my mouth and hands.”

But the moment her head touched the floor mat, her body tightened in refusal.

A memory of her mother’s hands pinned by her head flashed though her mind. She clamped her legs shut and crossed her arms over her breasts. Her heart pounded. The walls and ceiling swayed. Kneeling next to her, Rosuke leaned on his hand to see into her eyes, but didn’t touch her.

“You’re okay. You’re safe,” he said. “We can stop right now.”

She let the memories surface, but only for a moment. The helplessness, the horror, and the pain. Remembering still hurt, but much less than it used to. She knew she couldn’t have done anything—not that such a realization helped—but the worst part had been seeing her mother treated as something less than human. Something to be used and discarded.

The moment passed. She focused on Rosuke’s ocean-blue eyes, and the ceiling stilled. She lifted her hand, smoothed the crease between his eyebrows, and stroked aside the fall of his hair. Her body relaxed. He turned his face to nuzzle her palm and briefly closed his eyes at her touch. When he opened them again, he looked askance at her and left a kiss in the center of her hand. She couldn’t help the small, yearning sound she made as she lifted her other arm toward him.

“Maybe we can start with kissing?” she softly suggested.

“Of course, sweet girl,” he said, leaning over her. She looped her arm around his neck and let her eyes fall shut. His lips were warm and gentle, and he sighed with satisfaction. “You taste so good.”

Her heart leapt at the ache in his voice. He twisted to lie alongside her, slipped his arm beneath her head, and rested his other hand on her waist. For a long moment, he teased her with shallow, light kisses. She tugged at his shoulder, wanting more, and when he next parted his lips, she slid her tongue into his mouth. His hand on her waist flexed, and the air caught in his throat.

Rosuke’s heart pounded. They had kissed deeply several times, but never had she explored his mouth with her tongue, always the other way around. And she had been so shy about it, retreating as quickly as she’d come. He tightened his arm around her shoulders, lifting her head and encouraging her to continue. She writhed beneath him, and he realized he had been stroking the curve of her waist.

Her tongue returned on a soft, beautiful sigh. She curled it around his and thrust it deep. He snuck his hand higher, curving it around the root of her breast. He found her nipple with his thumb, and it was already distended. He pinched it. She pulled back with a shaky moan, and he let her get one good breath before taking her mouth again, tugging on her deliciously sensitive peak, and enjoying her muffled cries.

She moved against him, lifting her hips as if seeking more of the warm pleasure that was certainly radiating between her legs. But they had to go slow. She had to be begging him by the time he sank his tongue into her fragrant sex.

He shuddered with want as he imagined it, and raised his head to check in with her. She was panting—they both were. Her eyes were soft with desire, her lips wet and pink. He dropped a kiss onto the tip of her nose that earned him a smile, but as he continued strumming his thumb across her nipple, her eyelids drooped and a tiny moan eked from her throat.