Mageknights of Dunstorm: Connor

Her hand sleepily stroked his chest, and Connor held himself still, trying to ignore the answering ache of arousal somewhere lower, until he was forced to press his hand over hers to stop her maddening touch on his body. "Anerinth, you have to stop," he said.

His bride-to-be lifted her head and looked up into his eyes, half innocence, half knowing woman. "Why?"

"Because I'll hurt you if we do it again so soon," he said through gritted teeth. Anerinth's other hand moved to circle his erection. "There was something I wanted to do earlier that you stopped me from doing," she said suggestively. She sat up and settled beside his hip.

He looked at her heatedly. "Why don't we clean up first, then we'll do whatever it is that you want to do."

"Why don't we?"