In this moment, on this bed, the dragon had complete control of her. And the violence of the shudder that went through her told its own tale. She needed this moment, this break from responsibilities. A longed-for break that had nothing to do with getting what she wanted or protecting those she cared for, and everything to do with her pleasure.

His lips nibbled their way down her chin to her neck and kept going. His warm mouth closed over her nipple and began to suck as a finger slid inside her.

Dagmar’s hips jerked, attempting to move away from the finger so easily sliding in and out of her. But the fingers still gripping her hair tugged hard, and he gave a low warning growl.

Without a word, he made it clear he wouldn’t let her go until he was done, and she rewarded him with fresh wetness between her legs that allowed him to add a second finger to the first.

She winced a bit, sucking air between her teeth, remembering that her few relations had been extremely short, years apart, and mostly unpleasant.

Her whimper this time had nothing to do with unpleasantness, however. She couldn’t explain the difference, but it was there. His gentleness, his control without ever being vicious. It had her melting into him, giving herself over as she’d never done before. His mouth moved to her other breast, sucking until the nipple was hard and begging.

He had her bent back now, over his forearm, her body completely open to him and whatever he wanted to do. Her hands moved across his shoulders, holding onto him as her hips began to rock back and forth, riding the fingers inside her. She tried to stop herself, but her body had long left her behind. It had a mind of its own, and it seemed to know exactly what it wanted.

The pace of the fingers inside her increased, taking her roughly, the tips curling and rubbing against some nameless spot that had her legs shaking. She could no longer hold herself up, but the dragon took care of that. He took care of everything as his mouth returned to hers, his tongue forcing its way back in while he held her tightly with his arm. And when he had full control of her mouth and her whimpers had turned to short, desperate cries, Gwenvael placed his thumb against her clitoris and began to swirl it in circles, pressing down hard.

It was the last thing she needed, and she was grateful for the mouth covering hers as she screamed out the first release she’d had without use of her own hand.

She held on to Gwenvael as her body shuddered and shook, and when she felt the wave ebb and thought she was done, he turned his fingers a bit and readjusted where he’d placed his thumb. Then the wave was back again, twisting and turning her body, wringing it out like a rag. She tried to beg him to stop, to release her, but his mouth on hers seemed a permanent thing as he readjusted yet again, and again her body was dragged up and over.

When she could no longer breathe and sobs clogged her throat, he finally pulled back. His thumb slowed its pace before finally stopping, his fingers slid out of her with a gentleness she found startling, and the brutal assault on her mouth turned to tender kisses along her jaw.

He held her until her panting turned to slow, deep breaths and her fingers unclenched from his shoulder.

He’d just begun to lower her to the bed when she heard a brisk knock against the door.

“My lady?” Fannie’s voice said from the other side.

Gwenvael pulled her back up and whispered harshly against her ear, “Answer her. Answer her now.”

“Yes?” Dagmar stated clearly.

“Evening meal will be in another hour. I have a gown for you. Do you need help dressing?”

Still unable to organize her always organized thoughts, Dagmar was grateful when Gwenvael prompted, “Tell her yes, but you need another ten minutes to yourself.”

Dagmar swallowed and said, “Yes, but I’m still napping. Another ten minutes, please.”

“Of course, my lady.”

“Thank you.”

She never heard the woman leave, but the shadow under the door vanished.

The dragon finally released her, and Dagmar immediately pulled her robe over her body as he climbed off the bed and headed toward the door. She remained where he’d left her, unable to move.

“I’ll be back later tonight,” he told her as he walked away.

“Who says I’ll be here?”

He stopped before opening the door and faced her. “You’ll leave the window open for me and you’ll be naked. When I come back, I’ll take what I want from you, as many times as I want to.” He grinned; it was pure and raw and astonishingly beautiful. “Understand me, Lady Dagmar?”

She shook her head. “No. You’ll have to explain it to me.”

“I will. Even if I have to tie you to the bed and explain it to you again and again and again.” He looked her over one more time. “And don’t play with yourself after I’m gone. Don’t want you wearing my pu**y out before I’ve had a chance to use it.” With his hand on the door handle, Gwenvael rewarded her with the warmest smile she’d seen from anyone. “Besides, you look so beautiful when you come, I don’t want to miss a second of it.”

Then he was gone, the door shutting quietly behind him. A few minutes later when Fannie returned with the gown, she found Dagmar in the same position Gwenvael had left her in—kneeling on the bed, clutching her robe closed … and panting.

“She should have warned me, Jack.”

“Aye, my Lord Gwenvael. She should have.”

“She should have told me the truth about herself.”

“Very true, my lord.”