“No,” he admitted. “It appears to be pennyroyal and rue, with a bit of spearmint. It should do the job as well as anything.” He tipped the crushed herbs back into the bag and stowed it in her drawer. “Are your courses regular?”
“Not particularly, if you must know.”
“I suppose that’s for the best. You may be less likely to conceive,” he explained when she gave him a questioning look.
“Good. So…” She eyed the bed significantly. She wasn’t entirely sure how this would be managed with her hands still bound, but she trusted Kallias would have some inventive ideas.
“Not yet, sweetheart.” He tossed her a grin. “I don’t think this is going to last very long, so I might as well make the best of it.” He pointed to the floor. “Kneel.”
As she carefully lowered herself to the ground, his hands hovered near her shoulders, as if to catch her if she lost her balance.But even with hands bound, she didn’t waver as she sank to her knees.
His hand slid into her hair, gently pulling. “You know what I was thinking the first time I held you like this?”
She had a fairly good idea, and she met his gaze with a smile. “You want me to take you in my mouth, don’t you?”
He shucked his tunic, tossing it onto a stool. Her eyes roved over his bare body, skimming the lean planes of his chest and stomach before coming to rest on the stiffness between his hips. “Yes, Lea. That’s what I want.”
A sudden surge of insecurity overcame her, and her shoulders tensed. “I’ve only done this once or twice,” she confessed. “I’m not very good at it.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Did Hector tell you that?”
“Of course not.” Hector never would have said something so discourteous; he simply hadn’t preferred this particular act. “I just haven’t had much practice.”
“We can fix that.” He replaced his hand in her hair and gently pulled her toward him.
She resisted his pull. A thrill of fear ran through her. With her hands bound, she was helpless, vulnerable. Rationally, she knew he would never hurt her, but the primal part of her mind—the part that clung to her deep-rooted instinct for self-preservation—wouldn’t let her relax into this.
“Lea?” He loosened his grasp on her hair.
Her breath fluttered, quick and light. “Go slow?”
He stroked the back of her head. “You set thepace, sweetheart.”
His words eased some of her anxiety, allowing her trust in him to rise above her panicked instincts. She relaxed and inched forward.
His hand remained in her hair, but he didn’t use it to move her head, for which she was grateful. At the first touch of her lips, he let out a sharp gasp, which intensified into a groan as she took his measure with her tongue. He shuddered, and his hand grasped tighter in her hair, sending a pleasant prickle of pain over her skin that soothed the remaining edges of her nervousness.
His reactions made her confidence grow, and she allowed her tongue another slow pass over his length. If he could torment her with pleasure, then so could she.
She withdrew for a moment. “Perhaps now is a good time to mention that I once bit through someone’s ear with these teeth.” She clicked her teeth together gently.
A quiver ran through him, and when she put her mouth back on him, he seemed to have grown impossibly harder. “Gods below, Lea,” he hissed.
She chuckled. “You like that? I wager most men would have softened.”
He sifted his fingers through her hair, finding a tighter grip. “You terrify and arouse me in equal measure.” He gave her hair a hard, painful tug, jerking her head up so she was looking at him. “You’re brutal, you’re deadly, and you’re mine.”
He spoke with a low tenderness that made warmth flood her, of an altogether different kind than the heat throbbing in her core.
This was the danger he presented. It was one thing to enjoy the carnal pleasures they could find together. It was entirely another to find herself grinning stupidly up at him as he said,“You’re mine”in that reverent yet possessive tone, all while on her knees in the midst of pleasuring him with her mouth.
So she slid him back into her mouth, taking him as deep as she could. It was easier to concentrate on that, rather than the emotions he stirred up within her.
“Fuck, Lea,” he groaned. “That’s so good.”
“Not too good, I hope,” she murmured at the end of one long pass of her lips. “I need you in suitable condition for what comes next.”
He laughed hoarsely. “You’re making that very difficult for me, sweetheart.”
