* * *
Emory woke to a dull headache, sore arms, and the feeling of being watched.
It took his sensitive eyes a moment to focus on the strange shapes above him — a metal ceiling crossed with beams, the hulking shape of a suspended submersible, and the worried face of his mate.
My mate.
Awareness returned with a snap. He sucked in a deep breath, pulling her scent into his lungs, and fixed his gaze on her pinched brows, her puckered lips, her wide eyes. She looked worried as she bent over him, her wavy hair sliding over one ear to tickle her cheek.
It took him a moment to figure out why that was odd.Am I on the ground?
“Um, hi,” she squeaked.
Emory shook his head, attempting to clear it of the last of the fog that clouded his thoughts. “Why am I…” The sentence trailed off as he moved to sit up, needing to run his hands over her to check that she was well. Immediately, he realized hecouldn’t.
Glancing down the length of his body, he discovered why.
She… tied me?
Emory stared at the familiar length of rope coiled around his chest. When he experimented with moving his hands, he realized she’d skillfully bound his arms together and secured them to his back using the coil around his middle. It wasn’t too tight, which would have cut off blood flow, but it wasn’t something he could easily get out of, either.
If the rope was poorly made, he might have been able to use brute force to get free, but it wasn’t. It washisrope. It was the one he’d made just for his mate — sturdy but not coarse, so as to protect her fragile skin when he lovingly knotted her wrists and delicate ankles.
Emory’s gaze took a leisurely journey back to his mate’s hovering face. His heartbeat, normally so slow and steady, thundered in his ears. An almost painful shudder of desire worked its way down his spine. It felt like every drop of blood in his body rushed down to his slit as he took in his position beneath her.
“My naughty little mate,” he rasped, “what have you done to me?”
“Um, I’m really sorry about knocking you out.” Clementine wore such a contrite, anxious look that he almost felt bad for her. “I really liked when you kissed me, but I panicked and didn’t know what to do.”
A huff of laughter escaped his nose. He wasn’t angry that she’d knocked him out. On the contrary, he was enormously relieved that his mate was not as defenseless as he thought. Even if hewasannoyed with her, it would’ve been squashed by his delight at waking up to find himself in the most erotic of positions — tied up and aroused, with his slit on display for her.
He’d assumed that he would do the mounting, of course, but if she took the lead this time, he didn’t mind one bit. As long as she claimed him, he would take whatever she gave him.
Resting his head on the rubbery floor, Emory arched his neck and gave her a heated look. “I like that you are strong, my Clementine. I thought because you didn’t have claws you wouldn’t be, but I was wrong. You please meverymuch.”
He loved watching the way her eyes widened with surprise. “I’m— I’m glad?”
“What are you? How did you attack me?” Emory arched his back, displaying himself for her. “I want to know everything about my mate.”
“I’m a witch. A telepath. I just sorta… nudged your brain into off-mode. Gently.”
He snorted, recalling the way it felt like a knife was slicing the delicate tissue behind his eye just before everything went black. “A witch? Huh. If that was gentle, I shudder at what kind of damage you could do if you were angry.”
The aghast look on her face was its own special treat. “I swear I don’t normally attack people!”
He didn’t doubt her. Clementine appeared dismayed by her own actions, which he considered gentle compared to whathiskind might do to a potential mate. She was apparently quite capable of defending herself but unwilling to do so. He found that aspect of her, like everything else he’d gleaned over his weeks of study, utterly fascinating.
My gentle little creature.
“You don’t attack people, and yet you knocked me out and tied me up?” He couldn’t resist needling her just a bit as he endured the mounting pressure that was his cock begging to be released. “What are you going to do with me now, precious Clementine?”
She sat back on her heels and waved her hands in a nervous, fluttering motion. He noticed she’d removed some of her layers. Her yellow windbreaker was gone, as were her boots. If she looked fragile before, she looked even more so now that he could see her contours up close.
“I only restrained you because I wasn’t sure what you were going to do when you woke up,” she explained in a rush. “And then I realized that was stupid, so I tried to untie you when you were out but you kept almost waking up and I thought maybe that was worse, so— Shit. I’m sorry. Let me just…”
She reached for him, perhaps expecting him to roll over and offer her his hands so she could untie the rope, but Emory had absolutely zero intention of doing so. Instead, he arched his back again, widening his shoulders and stretching the length of his thickly padded torso beneath her.
Surprised, Clementine’s reaching hand settled on the flat plain of his abdomen. The feeling of her warm hand on his flesh sent an electric current of lust down his spine. Emory sucked in a breath through his teeth, fighting the pressure until, with a groan of relief, his cock slipped from its sheath.
