Page 62 of Misadventures with a Time Traveler

I fight the craving to laugh. “That matter is one best left to your God.”

Her eyes widen once more. She slides her thighs together. Braces her elbows back so her breasts rise toward me, her erect nipples draped by the bunches of her crimson shift.

She is mine.

She always will be.

If only she would see it too.

I cannot give up trying to prove it—even if that means keeping the woman naked and sexually satisfied for the next month.

I am sure I can talk myself into that sacrifice…

“Ah,” she murmurs. “My God. Who’s going to do what? Hear my confession? Absolve my sins?”

I jerk up one side of my mouth. “Right now, he shall simply demand your obedience.”

I move back in, parting her knees with my own, clear about my intent.

“Strip your shift all the way off, Alessandra.”

I am not surprised when she sits up with an easy smile. I am also not surprised when she eagerly removes the garment. I let her watch as I generously wet my lips.

Suddenly, being her god is my very, very fine fortune.

“Pinch them,” I direct, barely hearing the words above the roar of my blood.

She obeys at once. She bites her bottom lip while tugging at her succulent tips.

“Harder.”

She moans high in her throat. I growl from deep in mine. Her nipples are hard berry buds, centered in puckered flowers from which I cannot rip my stare.

“Lie back down.” There’s a growl in my tone, and I let it serve as her sole compliment. I am too enflamed to indulge more poetry right now. Too consumed by the illicit thrill of having her naked and supine for me here in this bed. The pillows and sheets for the master of the manor. Where I would have taken my rightful place, two hundred years ago…

It never would have been right.

Now it is right.

“Mon Dieu. Yes. So very, very right.”

I obey the call of my soul to speak it aloud and revel in Alessandra’s answering stare. Her smile is knowing and adoring. Her gaze flows with satin sensuality. Her skin is a tapestry of dewy arousal.

“Now put your hands back on your breasts,” I charge. “Squeeze them, ma cœur. Harder than before. Worship them as you know I would. Until they hurt.”

As she obeys me to the syllable, I snarl, “You are my perfect, filthy girl, oui?”

“Yes.” The sound spills as if she has kept it leashed for a long while. “Oh, Max. Yes…I am.”

“You make me want to do dirty things too, ma belle. Right here. Right now. In a stranger’s bed. Because I cannot wait.” I demonstrate that by ripping off my clothes as if their soft folds have caught fire. Not a wild comparison, since much of my body feels the same way. “Like this,” I say, kneeling back so she can watch as I stroke my erection and pinch my balls. “And this.”

The pain produces pre-come. I shake the hot pearls into the valley between her breasts. At once, Alessandra’s nipples darken to the shade of currants. “Oh, God,” she whimpers. “Oh…God.”

“You are right.” I use my cockhead to spread my milk along her skin. “And now it is time for absolution.”

Her thick lashes lift. “Yes, my lord.”

I take a huge breath, but it is impossible to gather enough air for the pride in my chest, the celebration in my soul. The trust in her eyes, the readiness of her obedience… They are a consummation I never dreamed of before, a completion I shall never know with another. Yes, I am that certain—to the point that I do not doubt a note of my next command to her.