Chapter Twenty-One

At last, Ling Xin could do everything she wanted with Zhi Hao. There was no turning back, and she gloried in the fact that finally, amazingly, she had taken her life and her lover in hand.

Quite literally.

While he devoted himself to kissing her, to thrusting into her mouth, dueling with her tongue and even teasing the roof of her mouth, she shed her top. It was a relief to get the coarse material off anyway. And when his hands trailed lower along her neck and sides, he abruptly froze.

"You bound your breasts? Why?"

"Li Fei thought it would be safer."

He nodded, though his expression was troubled. "You took a huge risk," he murmured. He hooked a finger underneath the tie and quickly unknotted it. Then he held the silken end of the wrap that bound her and shook his head. "I cannot think you are real. Perhaps you are truly the fox spirit come to tempt me away."

She lifted her hands as if to surrender. "You are worth it, Zhi Hao. As am I."

His eyes widened, and his breath seemed to stop.

She smiled. Had no one ever told him how special he was? She was glad she was the one who had seen his worth.

"But I haven't passed—" he began.

"Enough doubt. Tonight, we celebrate us." So saying, she lifted her arms and allowed him to unwind the binding.

She thought he would go quickly. Indeed, his hands were shaking with urgency. But he still pulled the fabric away in slow circles around her. He didn't move except his hands, and she could do nothing but stand in the circle of his arms and let the fabric fall away.

By inches, it seemed, her breasts were released. And when she could take a deep breath again, his gaze slid to her chest before he reverently began to stroke her flesh.

"So beautiful," he murmured as he tossed aside the silk so he could cup her with both hands.

She closed her eyes, feeling the size and the heat of his hands. "So good," she murmured as she arched into his hold.

His hands began to shape her, and then he moved his thumbs across her nipples. His hold wasn't tight. Indeed, she wanted more of him, more strength, but this gentle rub was maddeningly erotic. As if he touched the most fragile of things.

On it went while she tingled from his touch until finally, she could not stand it anymore. She gripped his face and kissed him hard, this time plunging her tongue into his mouth, demanding more from him.

Breaking from the kiss, he bent down and scooped her up. She thrilled as his muscles rippled against her body, but he was still wearing a shirt, and she wanted to feel his skin.

He carried her quickly to his bed. It wasn't more than two steps, then he set her gently down. She was pulling at his shirt, barely restraining herself from ripping it off him. He chuckled as he straightened, stripping it off with swift movements.

Heaven, she loved looking at his body. In the flickering candlelight, he appeared more spirit than man. But then he stripped out of his pants, and she knew he was flesh.

His dragon sprung up thick and hard, and this time she wasn't shy about touching it. He hissed as she wrapped her fingers around it, but his face showed bliss. Then she began to stroke it, slow even pulls while she watched his face.

Then she had an idea.

"My mother gave me the pillow book."

He jolted. "What?"

"This morning before I left." She grinned. "I had a little time to study it before we made it to the Forbidden City."

She was still stroking him, and he clearly was having trouble focusing. "What?"

"There is a picture in it," she said. "I want to try it."

And so saying, she set her mouth to his dragon. This wasn't the position in the book, but it was the beginning of it. And from his reaction, this was good enough.

She felt his buttocks flex as he began to push into her mouth. His breath was ragged, and his hands trembled along her back. Then abruptly, he pulled back.

"No," he rasped.

She looked up, confused. "But—"

"You first, my love. You first."

She flushed, feeling the heat of his words filling her whole body. He'd called her his love. And while she gloried at that, he gently stripped her of the rest of her clothing.

She was naked now as she'd never been before in front of him. She might have felt self-conscious, but he didn't give her time for doubt. His eyes raked her body, and then his hands followed wherever his gaze roamed.

Her breasts. Her waist. And then her thighs as he pulled her knees open.

Was it time now? Would he enter her and take her virginity?

She felt her belly tighten in anxiety. She trusted him completely, but the taking of her virginity would be new. She'd been told it always hurt.

And while she was fighting her nerves, he slid his hands up her thighs and pressed his thumbs between her folds.

"So wet," he whispered.

She didn't answer. She couldn't as her back arched and her legs widened until she was completely open to him.

She heard him inhale deeply, his eyes glittering as he said, "I love your scent." Then he maneuvered onto the cot, much too low to use his dragon.

She frowned as she pushed up on her elbows. "Wha—"

Her word was cut off as he set his mouth between her thighs. The things he had done in her mouth, he now did between her thighs. He swirled his tongue against her pearl, he thrust it deep inside her, and he stroked and teased and explored as if she were the most delicious treat he'd ever tasted.

And she flew.

Every stroke, every press, every thrust ratcheted her higher. She went wild beneath his tongue, but he held her down with his hands. Her belly quivered, her breath hitched, and then…

He sucked on her pearl.

She exploded.

And soared.

And while she was still bucking with every wave, he quickly climbed onto the cot. He kept her legs spread with his knees as he lowered himself on top of her.

The waves were barely eased. She was still soaring with the contractions. But she had enough breath to look at him and whisper his word back to her.

"Love."

"Love," he returned.

And then he thrust.

There was the pain of penetration. A sharp bite of stretch. Wet as she was, he was still big. But that sensation only threw her higher in delight.

She lifted her knees, gripping him as he held still, his eyes dark and troubled.

"Ling Xin?" he whispered.

She smiled at the nervous note in his voice. Did he worry for her? He shouldn't.

"More," she whispered.

As his expression lightened, his body began to move. In and out. He thrust and withdrew with every breath.

Oh how she loved this. She wanted him working inside her. She wanted to be split open.

He moved faster then. Harder against her.

She arched to take every impact.

She wanted…

Faster…

Yes!

A last hard thrust, and she felt him erupt.

And once more, she flew.