“There will never be a day when you’re out of my mind. Don’t ask for that.” He trailed his fingers lightly down my neck to my throat, then lower through my cleavage, causing me to draw in a breath. Over my peaked nipple, he skimmed his light touch, and even through layers of clothes, it responded. Down, down, over my belly and lower still. I didn’t breathe, waiting.
“You have to find a way.”
He shook his head. “I won’t. And secondly,” he said with the sultry tone he almost never let out, walking his fingers down the laces of my leathers to my apex. “I’m drowning in the scent of it.”
I choked, pressing my fingers to my mouth. The way he talked sometimes would be the death of me. I wanted to chastise him, but he rubbed through the leathers to where he knew he could have me melting for him, and I let out an embarrassingly needy sound.
It jerked me from my stupor, and I gasped, stepping back. “We can’t do that—your wounds!” I insisted.
“What of them?” he asked, giving me that damn roguish grin.
“You’ll tear them all back open with that kind of”—I dropped my voice—“activity.”
He caught my hand and drew me back in. “I would be happy to sit here and let you ride me. I won’t move a muscle.
My cheeks heated. He was so supremely confident with his words that it infuriated me and turned me on in equal measure. I wanted to take him at his word, even going so far as to glance at his wings to check that they were free of the chair back and away from harm if I took him up on his offer.
No. Bad Caly!
I wouldn’t be taking him up on his offer. He was only just building up some power reserves, and I would not drain them with an unnecessary spend of energy.
“You’re thinking about it,” he grinned up at me.
“You’re making it impossible not to,” I grumbled, remembering just how good he felt stretching me wide open. I squeezed my knees together. “But no.”
His shoulders fell.
But then I had an idea. One I wasn’t sure I had the gumption to carry off, but it was in my head now, and God of Light did that play havoc with my body.
He growled, making me meet his eyes again. “Oh, do tell me what that lascivious thought was. Your scent is going to have me throwing you down on that bed, fuck my wounds.”
“I—no, you’re mistaken.” I stammered.
“Trust me, Trix, I’ve been mistaken about many things, but how wet for me you are right now is not one of them.”
I rolled my eyes, then decided to seize the moment. The Gods knew I would hardly have any more.
“Fine. I had an idea. One that won't hurt you,” I said almost shyly.
“Go on,” He waited, and the move, though passive in nature, was still entirely predatory.
“I could take—” I closed my eyes, gathering the confidence to just say it. “I could take you in my mouth.”
Faolan’s own mouth fell open, giving me nothing to go on but shock at my suggestion. Though what kind of shock, I was at a loss to tell.
“It’s fine, if you don’t want to. I’ll…” I began to turn away, but Faolan grabbed me, holding me in place. I refused to look at him.
“Please tell me I did not mishear you,” he said carefully.
“Your hearing is exemplary,” I said begrudgingly. Of course he’d heard me correctly.
“Look at me please,” he urged.
Slowly, I met his eyes.
“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”
I shook my head.
