69. Jasmine

69

JASMINE

E ll-rom put his hand over Jasmine's. "Please. I can't."

He looked so pained that she released him right away. "What's wrong? Did you change your mind? Do you need more time?"

He shook his head. "I need to pleasure you first. Maybe it's an instinct, one of those genetically programmed memories, but it just doesn't feel right for me to be on the receiving end."

It was a little chauvinistic of him, but if she told him that, he wouldn't understand what she meant. Heck, there was probably no equivalent word in Kra-ell. They were a matriarchal society, but that didn't mean the males were pushovers or weaklings. They were the defenders of the tribe, and they were dominant, but they took their orders from the mistress, who was the head of their large family unit.

Still, that wasn't the instinct driving Ell-rom. The male Kra-ell probably needed to compete for the affections of their mistresses, and the need to be good, generous lovers was most likely genetically ingrained in them. Heck, it was natural selection, the survival of the fittest, or, as happened in the Kra-ell society, the survival of the best lovers. The males who got to father the next generation had to excel at sex to get repeat invitations to the females' beds.

Their natural selection favored good lovers.

Jasmine had no proof of that, and the only thing she had been told about their sexual practices was that they were violent and that they fought for dominance, but perhaps Edgar had exaggerated.

Ell-rom was gentle. He would never get violent with her or hurt her in any way. Of that, she was positive.

Ell-rom needed to prove himself to her. Not only that, she had been the initiator in all their exploration so far, and it didn't sit well with him. He needed to take the lead.

"Okay, big guy." She leaned back. "I'm at your command."

"I need guidance," he admitted. "Would you teach me?"

Nodding, she handed him the washcloth. "You can start by soaping me."

"Turn around," he said quietly.

When she did, he put a hand on her shoulder, leaned in, and kissed it, then started running the washcloth over her back, her arms, and her stomach, and as he skimmed the sides of her breasts, she moaned.

Dropping the washcloth, he used his hands to lather her belly, her hips, and the tops of her bottom. And then his hands rested on her waist, and he lifted her and turned her around in a show of unexpected strength.

Jasmine gasped. "How did you do that? You are not supposed to be able to lift me yet."

"I got fueled by passion." He cupped her cheek, then smoothed his hand down the length of her neck and all the way to her collarbone, learning her contours with such reverence that it made her feel like a goddess.

From her collarbone, he smoothed his forefinger down and circled her nipple without touching her needy peak.

"Touch me here." She cupped her other breast and showed him how to tweak her nipple. "Kiss me right here." She arched her back.

He groaned and leaned down to press a sweet, soft kiss where she had shown him, and then moved to the other one and did the same thing.

Apparently, her prince was a literal guy, and she had to explain what she'd meant by a kiss.

"Lick it, close your lips over it and suck. Just be careful with your fangs. Don't nick me. If you do, you will have to lick some more to heal me."

Something passed over his eyes, and if Jasmine hadn't known better, she would have thought it was revulsion.

Had she given him too many instructions?

Too much detail?

She didn't want to kill the mood by being overly bossy or too literal.

But Ell-rom seemed excited to do everything she had told him and did exactly what she had told him to do. To his credit, he was an excellent student.

"Yes, oh, yes." She moaned. "Just like that. More."

Ell-rom must have misunderstood what she'd meant by more and moved one hand to cup her bottom.

Her shy prince was getting bolder, and she was loving it.

Moving his other hand to her hip, he rubbed the heel of his palm over her clitoris as if he knew what it was, and she wondered once more if that was a genetic memory or a normal memory that had resurfaced. Perhaps he had been taught in a purely academic setting about female anatomy, and how a male was supposed to pleasure a female.

After all, if he were to serve as an actual spiritual leader to his people, he would have to answer questions pertaining to sex.

She was writhing under his palm, pressing and rubbing her achy nubbin and bringing herself closer and closer to climax. Ell-rom changed tactics and probed her entrance with his forefinger, beginning to intimately investigate her sex.

How the heck had he not exploded already when she was ready to blow in half the time?

Wrapping her palm around the back of his neck, she pressed her lips to his, and when she licked the seam, he parted them for her, and her tongue darted inside to meet his.

Ell-rom groaned and pressed his finger firmer against her opening, breaching the entrance and slipping it farther in.

She moaned to encourage him to keep going, and as her sheath clamped around the digit, he gasped into her mouth.

The deeper he pushed his finger, the more the heel of his palm pressed against her clitoris, and the more she rocked against his hand.

She was seconds away from coming, but then he suddenly withdrew his finger.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

He looked dazed, his glowing eyes unfocused. He was all instinct now, and she hoped he remembered that she was human and he had to be careful with her.

Somehow, he was suddenly much stronger than he had any right to be at this stage of his recovery.