Fawn raised one eyebrow. “Is that a question?”
“Abjuration,” Arlon said again, definitively this time.
“Ropes are in the cabinet,” she said, and Arlon hurried over to grab a soft hemp coil. A cloth blindfold caught his attention, and he grabbed it as well.
“Abjuration and illusion,” he corrected before he moved to meet Fawn on the bed.
“His first real spell, and he’s mixing schools,” Fawn said approvingly. “Already an innovative spellcrafter.”
“I just know what I want to do with you,” he said as he knelt over her, snapping the rope taut between his hands.
Fawn’s eyes smoldered as she looked up at him. “Show me.”
Arlon descended, crashing his lips against hers, the ropes momentarily forgotten. He kissed her like he was starving and she was the only thing that could slake his hunger. Yet instead of satisfying him, it only left him craving more. One knee slid between her legs, and the heat of her cunt reached him even through their combined layers.
“How much do you care about this dress?” he asked, breathless in the aftermath of the kiss.
Fawn’s laugh warmed him from the inside out. “I would prefer if you didn’t destroy it.”
“Shame,” he said before he started to loosen the silk tie that laced up the front of it. “I would love to tear something off of you someday.”
“That is a fantasy I’ll be happy to indulge with a different dress,” she said, only to gasp as Arlon pulled the front open. It exposed her collar and breasts, her skin as pale as moonlight, a trait fitting for the lunariel Maeve that made up half of herparentage.
“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he murmured as he shimmied her dress the rest of the way off. The last thing to go was her small clothes, pulled down her smooth legs and tossed aside to expose her fully.
She hummed as she looked up at him, her hands lifting to tease at the collar of his shirt. “Flattery can get you far with enchantment, but that’s not one of the schools you picked, is it?”
“Suppose it isn’t.” He grabbed her slender wrists in one of his hands before pinning them over her head. “Who says this needs to be casting practice?”
Fawn hooked one leg around his waist, rocking up to grind against the bulge in his trousers. “I do.”
He bit back a moan as he looked down at her in awe. Until the night he’d earned his freedom, he’d only ever seen the Grandmaster. She had been his jailer and keeper, as beautiful as she was untouchable. He still had so many things to learn about this side of her, but after pining formonths, he was an eager student. And having permission to touch her now made it all the sweeter.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She loosened her leg from around his waist and said, “You’ve already proven that you know how to fuck,a’marra. Now show me you can make magic.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said again before he released her wrists and dutifully picked up the forgotten coil of rope. He was careful, making sure the ropes laid flat as he did a simple double-column tie around her wrists.
“Beautifully done,” she said, only to gasp as Arlon used the tail of the rope to lift her bound wrists over her head. He tied them to one of the hard points on the headboard before he teased his fingers down her exposedsides.
“Maybe I’ll bind your legs open too,” he said, and he knelt between them, using his knees to push hers apart.
“You are the caster here,” she reminded him, though he shivered to hear the tremble of anticipation in her voice.
Yet something about the way she said it made him pause. He was no stranger to sex. He’d had trysts among Vian’s Wolves, as brief and unwise as they had been. Getting close to anyone meant giving them an opportunity to stab you in the back, so something about Fawn’s trust, about being in command while she was so helpless, sent a thrill straight through him.
He’d had so little say throughout his life, so being given control here felt… sacred.
Gratitude flooded him as he knelt over her, lips brushing her chest reverently before his tongue gently lapped at one pink nipple. He savored her, enjoying her helpless squirming as he lavished the attention on her breasts, sucking her nipples to swollen points. They’d darkened from pink to red by the time he was satisfied, and only then did he kiss his way down her navel.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Fawn asked.
For a moment, he couldn’t imagine what she was talking about. When it finally hit him, he felt a little foolish.
He’d spent the better part of his indenture making focuses at Fawn’s request, so how he’d forgotten them now was beyond him. He scowled, and it took all of his discipline to pull away from her and go fetch a string of uncharged focuses from the cabinet. Then, he grabbed a bottle of lube and two more coils of rope, making damn sure he was prepared so he wouldn’t have to stop again.
When he returned, he made quick work of tying Fawn’s ankles to the corners of the bed, leaving her just enough slack to squirm, but not enough to close herself off. For a moment,he just savored the sight, his hands stroking over her quivering thighs. Never in his twenty-six years of life did he imagine he’d have a woman like Fawn bared and trembling underneath him, yet here she was, like a dream made real. He owed her more than he could ever repay, but he was determined to try.
