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“Wha – ?” she started, but he cut her off.

“I don’t know,” he admitted gruffly. “I just want to see it.”

Aimee’s eyes were very round as he drew long slivers of what was left of the skirts around her body and trailed them across her stomach and between her legs. With a bolt of shock and something else, he realized that he would like to secure her legs too. To bind her pretty ankles up in blue and yellow and tie them to the bedposts. Fuck, where had that come from? He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.

Abstinence did strange things to a man, or so it seemed. He’d never entertained such thoughts before. He gave his head a slight shake.

“What about you?” she asked boldly.

He shrugged, looking down. The only thing he hadn’t shed were his braies and chausses. He shoved down his braies and kicked them on to the floor but didn’t see that his leg coverings were either here or there. They certainly weren’t an impediment. “I’m naked enough.”

“Neither of us is entirely naked,” she pointed out, biting her lip. She sounded breathless, and he noticed the nipples pointing through the scraps of silk were hard. He couldn’t resist running a hand over her full breasts, giving them a savoring squeeze. She gave a whimper, followed by a full body shiver.

“Open your legs, Aimee,” he said thickly. Gods. She didn’t even hesitate. He reached between her legs and grabbed a handful of the tattered silk, draping the strands first over one thigh and then the other. Aimee lifted her head to watch him, but she left her hands where they were above her head.

He had no idea why it was having the effect on him that it did, but seeing her tangled up in his colors was making him feel almost frantic. She had chosen him, a voice whispered in his head. She had chosen him, and he had given the crown to another. He tugged at one blue and yellow ribbon, and it slipped right up between her legs, lodging in her sweet cleft.

They both caught their breath, and Aimee’s eyes flew wide. “My lord ... ?” she quavered uncertainly.

“I want you to get it nice and wet for me, Aimee,” he replied, his voice pure gravel. “Can you do that?” She made a strangled noise in her throat. “Well, can you?” he persisted.

When she nodded, crimson cheeked, he tugged it again and Aimee gasped. “Good,” he replied, dragging the length of the fabric slowly through her nether lips. Then he pulled it back the other way, carefully repeating the lightly sawing motion, before tugging the length of sopping ribbon back through her pussy lips. He stared at it a moment, at the telltale spotting, before raising it to his face, breathing in her musky, womanly scent.

Gods, she smelt incredible. His mouth watered, and feeling her eyes on him, he kissed the ribbon of fabric, slowly and deliberately. Aimee hadn’t closed her legs, and he shifted over her, seeking relief for his throbbing cock as he pressed into her soft belly. He gave a harsh groan as his hard hips settled against the cradle of hers.

Gods, that felt good, but he realized with surprise that he wanted her mouth again. Which was inconvenient as their height disparity would mean him shifting down and breaking the contact he craved. Or he could just bend his neck and get her to lift hers. Clamping a hand to the back of her neck, he angled her head up and lowered his lips to hers.

Aimee’s kiss was so enthusiastic it nearly blew the top off his head. She didn’t kiss any different, he thought, now she didn’t love him anymore. It was a shock to realize he had been scared she might. He was the one forgetting to breathe now as their tongues stroked and tangled together. He kind of missed her arms wrapped tight about his neck, though. He slid his other hand up to find hers still wrapped up in the tattered dress.

When her fingers returned the press of his own, the throb in his chest became an exquisite pain. He groaned against her mouth. The shredded silk dress and Aimee’s hard nipples brushed against his chest. He wanted to be inside her. Deep inside. He took his hand from her neck and slid it over the dark hair of her mound, caressing her there, before his fingers slid inside her, finding her delightfully wet and slippery.

“Ohhh!” Aimee gave a broken moan as he slid a finger right up inside her. Konrad swallowed it and caught her bottom lip between his teeth as he lifted his mouth from hers. He simultaneously didn’t want to stop kissing her yet wanted to hear any words she might let fall. It had been stimulating as hell last time.

Still, he remembered as he added another finger, last time had been with his mouth between her legs, not his cock. Also, a voice whispered in his head, last time she had thought she was in love with him. Should he bring her off with his fingers first? After all, it was only the third time he had bedded her and …

“My lord!” Aimee whined and twisted underneath him. “Please!”

“Please what?” he asked gruffly, though she probably wanted playful words, teasing. He didn’t really do teasing, despite his strange behavior of late. “Do you need my fingers here or my mouth? Tell me.”

“You,” she said tightly. “Inside me.”

Which could mean any of the three, he reflected, even as he shifted over her, shoving her legs apart, aligning the head of his cock at her wet slit. He was going to take it in the most literal sense and pretend she had begged for his cock. The muffled sob she gave when he started to push into her made him check, though it caused him actual physical pain at this point to halt his progress.

“Don’t stop!” she protested, canting up her hips to encourage him. Oh fuck.

He all but roared as he surged into her tight heat, not stopping until he was deeply seated. Then he paused, his chest heaving, staring down at her. Usually, she would pass her hands around his back at this point, he realized, running them over his muscles, maybe telling him how nice they felt. And he godsdamned missed it.

He glanced up at her captured wrists and started trying to unravel them. He didn’t have a knife handy. Damn it. Aimee made a muffled sound and moved beneath him, as though desperately seeking the friction she needed. Abandoning his attempt to untangle the silken strands, he grabbed a firm hold of her hips instead and thrust into her. “This what you wanted?” he rasped.

“Ohhh, oh, yes, yes!” Aimee sobbed. “Yes, keep doing that! Please.”

“I intend to,” he assured her, jolting her against him with increasing firmness. “Wrap your legs around me.” He grabbed her round thighs and hauled them up around his hips. “Feels good?” he asked sharply.

“Y-yes,” she replied, but there was something.

“What is it? Tell me.”

“I wish I could touch you, that’s all.” Her tone was strangely wistful as she glanced up at her hands.