“Of course you do,” she muttered. “Fine. I like…when I feel like I can trust someone enough to let go.” She met his gaze, then glanced away. “I like letting someone else be in control.”
That surprised him. He eased himself off her, coming to lie on his side next to her, propped on an elbow. “Really?”
She shifted her gaze back to his, and he saw the vulnerability it had taken to share this with him. “There’s a relief in letting someone else handle things for a while.”
“I understand.” He realized she likely spent every waking moment fighting for total control of her body—honing every muscle, practicing maneuvers until she could do them in hersleep. It made sense that she might enjoy giving that up when it came to bedsport. “Though I might have expected you to enjoy overpowering me like you did at the palace.” He grinned.
She snorted. “Wouldyouhave liked that?”
“It might not have been my first choice, but I’m nothing if not flexible.”
“What would have been your first choice?”
He considered how best to answer that. “Well…I’ve spent most of my life with no say in where I go or what I do each day. When it comes to bedsport, it’s rather refreshing to be able to take control.”
Her eyebrows arched. “Is that so?”
“Indeed.” His desire for Lea was strong enough that he’d have happily accommodated whatever she wanted, but this unexpected complement to their preferences sent an extra thrill through him.
“So…” She rolled onto her back and pulled him atop her. “Now that you know what I like…what would you have me do?”
She clasped her legs around his hips, and he sensed what was on her mind. He could feel the strength in her legs, pulling his body flush against hers. He ached to keep things simple, to do exactly as she seemed to be trying to convince him to do.
But if he did that, this would be over much too fast. He wanted to take things slower, to savor the process of discovering more of what she liked—discoveringher—and how they fit together. Also, he wanted to test what she said about letting someone else take control, to see how far she would go for him.
“I wonder…” He pulled back slightly, and she released the grip of her legs around his waist. “Would you kneel for me?”
Surprise flickered across her face, but she nodded.
He rolled off her, and she rose from the bed. She sank to her knees in the middle of the small span of empty floor, atop a woven rug that covered the stone tiles. She rested her hands on her strong thighs. “Like this?”
Kallias came to stand before her. He took a moment to burn the sight of her into his mind. He wanted to scar himself with it, to never forget how she looked—this powerful woman, capable of overpowering him any time she chose, on her knees for him… “Yes,” he replied, suddenly hoarse. “Like this.”
She kept her eyes on his face, her chin tipped up toward him, and something in the meeting of their gazes unsteadied him, as if the tiles beneath his feet had suddenly loosened and shifted.
“Tell me one more thing you like,” he said. He reached out to touch her face, fingers brushing the curve of her jaw.
At that, her gaze slid away from his, and that beautiful flush crept back over her skin.
He wanted to hear it for two reasons: first, because he’d be able to put the information to excellent use, and second, because he wanted to see if she trusted him enough to reveal something so intimate.
“Only if you tell me something too,” she replied, meeting his gaze once more.
“I’ve already told you what I like.”
“I want specifics.”
He knew she was deflecting, buying time, but he decided to accede to her request. “All right.” He traced a finger over her cheek, the skin pink and warm. “I enjoy making my partners blush. Like you’re doing right now.”
At that, she reddened even more. “Really?” She looked skeptical, as if she’d never imagined that was something which could bring pleasure.
Kallias nodded. “Your turn.”
She shifted position, running her hands up and down her thighs, and chewed her lip. Each little mark of discomfiture sent a heated thrill down his spine, settling in his cock. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this painfully aroused. He feared he’d fall apart at a single touch.
Finally, she spoke. “I like…pain. Certain types,” she clarified hastily. “In certain circumstances.Notthis.” She lifted her wounded arm.
That was very interesting. He’d thought she would experience enough pain in her daily life—even when she wasn’t wounded—that the prospect of adding more would hold no appeal.
