“Easy.” I hiccup. “It was delicious.”
“Evidently.”
I moisten my lips with my tongue as I think about kissing him. “Would you care to see how it’s done?”
He stares blankly as I beckon him closer with my index finger. Unfortunately, he doesn’t budge. He just stares at me with his devastatingly alluring eyes.
The skies above!
He really is a handsome man.
“Are you afraid of me, Hector?” I ask, my voice soft, seductive.
The torch throws shadows over his face as he folds his arms. I rise to my feet, ignoring the tugging of my leg shackled to the post, and reach out, brushing my fingers against his arm. “Shall I show you how good the wine tasted?”
“How do you intend to do that?” He skims his gaze over me, taking me in.
Boldly, I lift my fingers to his mouth. “Taste me.”
His eyes lower to my hand, but he makes no move to listen to me.
Instead, he says. “Most people just get dizzy when they get sloshed, but you—”
I grab his hand and fasten my mouth around his thumb and suck, my eyes never leaving his. He lets out a ragged exhale and yanks away from me.
“Step closer,” I say in a husky whisper, “and I shall suck on more than your thumb.”
“Hades!” He pivots, and I grab his hand, keeping him near.
“Don’t leave.”
“You need to sleep off the wine.”
He grips my shoulders and pushes me toward the lumpy mattress. At the last moment, I tighten my fingers around his arm and yank with all my strength, taking him by surprise. I laugh as Hector lands on top of me, his muscular body pressing against mine.
The wine has made me bold…and foolish. Oh, so very foolish.
“Kiss me, Hector.”
He opens his mouth to speak, but I don’t give him a chance. I raise my bound hands over his head, pulling him down to me and capturing his lips.
Hector freezes, his mouth unmoving. I feel the uncertainty in his body, the hesitation in his breath. But then, slowly, he responds. His lips part, and his tongue brushes my lower lip. It’s divine. Or is the word sublime?
It doesn’t matter. Hector is kissing me. Really kissing me.
Finally. It’s been too long. Way too long.
I lower my hands to his strong back, admiring his muscles flexing beneath my fingers. Instinctively, I push my hips against him, feeling his hardness. That need. That want he kept denying himself in Astarobane.
As our lips continue to move together, Hector’s hands roam over my body. I gasp as he cups my breast through my surcoat, his fingers teasing my nipple.
More. I need more.
I arch into his touch, needing my summit, needing him to take me there.
With a strangled groan, he tears his mouth free.
“Hector.” I try to pull him back, but he shifts off me and stands.
