“I like it when you hurt me,” she breathed.
A tiny shudder rippled through him at her words, which pleased her.
“Get up,” he said, and she lifted herself off his lap. He rose, took her by the hand, and led her into his adjoining bedroom, closing the door behind them. Lea made for the bed as he lit a lamp, but he stopped her with a raised hand and pointed to the floor. “Not yet. I want you kneeling.”
She lifted an eyebrow, but did as he asked, sinking to her knees atop the thin rug that covered the stone floor. She gave her back a slight arch and widened her thighs, trying to make herself look as tempting as possible. At this point, she was eager to get on with the bedding. Desire throbbed at her center, echoing the residual tenderness in her nipples, and she could feel herself growing slick with need.
Kallias, however, seemed to want to take his time. He finished lighting the lamp, then surveyed her. She wasn’t sure how he looked so cool, nearly disinterested, but the jutting stiffness beneath his tunic left no doubt of his ardor.
“Do you think you would like it if I bound your hands?”
She hesitated. The prospect intrigued her, sending a fresh pulse of heat to her core. It would mean trusting him in an even deeper way.
“No one’s ever done that to me before,” she said.
“I’ve never done that to someone before, either.”
“So how do you know you want to do it?”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “Because it’s one of many, many things I can’t stop thinking about doing to you.”
The dark intensity in his voice sparked a new ripple of arousal. “All right,” she said, growing breathless. “Bind my hands.”
His smirk broadened into an approving smile. “Wait here.” He ducked back into his office, returning a moment later with a length of flaxen cord, of the type used to fasten the lid on a box.
He crossed behind her, then stopped short. “Lea,” he murmured.
With a start, she realized what he’d seen—the marks on her back, years-old relics of her life before becoming a gladiator. Last time, her back had never faced him.
Her fingers tensed where they lay on her thighs. The marks had been part of her for so long that she forgot how they must look to someone else. No doubt they would repulse him.
She pulled off the tie at the end of her braid and combed her fingers through her hair, shaking it out so it fell down her back, concealing the scars. “A story for another time, I think.”
“Very well.” The softness of his voice surprised her, easing the tension coiled within her.
He knelt behind her, took her wrists, and wrapped the cord around them. It was secure, but not too tight. When he finished, she couldn’t help wriggling her arms. She figured she’d be able to get out of the bindings with little effort, but soon realized she couldn’t. A thread of panic clutched at her. Without the use of her hands, she felt completely defenseless, vulnerable.
“Lea?” Kallias, still behind her, slid his hands down her forearms. “Is it all right?”
She released a long breath, trying to steady herself. Her breath was coming fast and light, just as it did before a match. She hadn’t expected to feel so helpless. “Fine,” she said tightly. Her arms were still moving, fingers grasping, trying to see if she could reach any part of the cord to pull it loose.
“Lea.” His voice grew firmer. “I’m taking it off if you’re going to pull at it like that. You’ll hurt yourself.”
No, she didn’t want that—didn’t want this to be over. He wanted this, and she wanted it too, and she also wanted to please him. She forced herself to be still. “Don’t take it off.”
He stroked her arms in a soothing motion. She matched her breathing to the rhythm of his hands, and the frantic pulse of her heartbeat soon slowed.
“That’s right,” he murmured, pulling her into his arms as she relaxed. “Lean back. Let me take your weight.”
She allowed her muscles to release, her body to sag against his. Her head rested on his shoulder, and her eyes fell shut.
“That’s better,” he whispered. His hands moved to her front, passing over her stomach, then slid up to caress her breasts—gently this time. Her breath hitched. There was pleasure in being helpless like this, nothing she had to do—nothing shecoulddo—but feel, sense, enjoy.
His hands skimmed downward, and she tensed in anticipation. Yes, this was what she wanted, what she needed. She shuddered, back arching, as his fingers delved between her legs.
He made a low, needy noise in the back of his throat. “You’re soaked, Lea.”
Her cheeks flushed. It was embarrassing to have her desire laid bare like this, nothing to hide behind. He circled her throbbingbud with one hand while the other drew light, teasing lines up and down the inside of her thigh. She bit her lip against a moan.
