“What are you—”

I shushed him as I reached for the gleaming button of his fly. He took a sharp breath as the button popped free. I pulled the zipper down and slipped my hand inside his pants.

Despite the interruption, he was still hard. His erection jerked as my fingers closed around its substantial girth, and his shudder passed through me. I stroked him, my head reeling from the peripheral sensations that affected me through the blood tie.

He stood beside the bed to step out of his jeans, and I slithered across the mattress to grip the tight muscles of his thighs. He groaned when I rubbed my cheek against his hip, my soft breath teasing his straining cock. I gave in to his silent urging through the tie, opening my mouth to draw him in.

He tasted salty, but not unpleasant. I swirled my tongue around the swollen head as I sucked more of him in. As his excitement built, so did mine. When he grasped my hair and gently pulled me back, I knew he’d nearly reached the end.

Laying me back, Nathan relied on the blood tie to learn how I liked to be touched. He’d rush to fulfill my requests with eager hands and lips. He reveled in my responses. Not the way Cyrus had. Nathan didn’t view my desire as a way to manipulate or control me.

This realization removed the last of my inhibitions. If I lost control with Nathan, I wouldn’t lose a part of myself. I was so relieved by this that I came as he slid two fingers inside me. From the look on his face, he was as surprised as I was.

“Apparently I’m not as rusty at this as I thought.” He sank between my legs, bracing his weight on his arms.

The movement of muscle beneath his skin fascinated me. “Watch it. I’ve got what I wanted. I could just decide I’m done with you and then where will you be?”

“Jerking off, like I’ve been for the past twenty years. But you’re not going anywhere.”

I slapped his shoulder lightly for his crude remark, and he reached between us and guided himself into the slick entrance of my body.

My lungs constricted as I stretched to accommodate him. I gasped, wrapping my arms around him. “Oh, my—oh.”

He slipped his hands beneath my back and lifted me onto his lap. I held on to his shoulders as every long inch of him slid into me.

Leaning close to my ear, he practically purred, “Told you you weren’t going anywhere.” I buried my face in his shoulder as he flexed his hips. He felt solid and real, and his skin smelled faintly of soap.

“I’ve wanted to do this since the night you came into the shop.” His voice was fueled by ragged breaths, and his words sent a shock through me.

It was nice to be wanted. Not for power or control, but wanted as a woman.