Fearless Imogen brushed aside his hesitation by wrapping her legs around his hips, anchoring him to her. “Teach me,” she said and punctuated the command by rubbing against his shaft where it nestled between her thighs.

She was neither mage nor witch, but those two words beguiled him, snapping the thin cord of his restraint. Cededa cupped her face in his hands. “Look at me, Imogen.”

He stared into her eyes and pushed, the head of his cock stretching muscles swollen by her climax. They closed around his shaft, squeezing. He gasped, the sound echoed by Imogen who stiffened in his arms but didn’t look away. Her knees dug into his ribs, her heels into his lower back as he slid slowly inside her.

She clasped him like a well-made glove. Cededa shuddered in her arms, overwhelmed by the urge to thrust hard, feel those internal muscles flex around his cock. A trickle of sweat meandered down Imogen’s temple and disappeared in her hair. Cededa kissed the spot, tasting salt. She lay rigid in his arms, her shallow breaths tickling his shoulder. He kissed the curve of her ear, leaving it to feather his lips across her hot cheek to her eyelid.

He rested halfway inside her, nearly mad with the urge to thrust deeper. Instead, he plied more kisses to her face, learning the landscape of her features; no longer banal to him but beautiful. Her body slowly relaxed against his, and Cededa swallowed back a triumphant cry when Imogen’s hips tentatively rocked forward, sheathing him a little more.

Her lips were soft under his, her tongue warm as it glided languidly over his bottom lip. He deepened the kiss, filling her mouth with his tongue in the same way his cock filled her body. He pulled away to gaze into her eyes once more. “A little more, Imogen, just a little more. I promise.”

He thrust, sliding deep until his bollocks pressed against the curves of her buttocks. Imogen grunted, her eyes wide. She curled upward, sinking her teeth into his shoulder. Cededa groaned low and long, caught between the ecstasy of possession and the sting of her bite blossoming across his shoulder. He tugged on her hair, pulling her head back so he could look at her.

Pain, challenge and desire swirled in her gaze. “Well met, my beauty,” he rasped. “Well met.”

He kissed her hard, opening her mouth to accept his tongue as he’d opened her body to accept his cock. Imogen’s hands tangled in his hair, trapping him, and soon the ravager became the ravaged.

His plans to go slowly, to initiate her gently, went up in flames at the urging of her hips against his. He slid partway out of her only to surge inside once more, hard enough to push her across the bed. He loved her; he fucked her and ultimately possessed her. All while the deadly force of her bane washed through his veins.

He buried his face in Imogen’s neck and breathed the perfume of flowers from her hair. Her scent, her taste, the feel of her around him sent him spiraling out of control. He plunged into her, over and over, gripping her hips hard enough to leave marks. On the edge of orgasm, he sucked on the soft skin of her neck and moaned her name in her ear. Sensation drowned him in a tide. Heavy groans spilled from his lips as Imogen rocked against him, milking his cock until his bollocks were empty, and he collapsed on her, utterly spent.