Page 28 of Lera of Lunos
Coal assesses the rope and beam above. “I could snap the wood, but it would take a bit of work.”
“You can’t snap the wood, Coal. The post is as thick as my palm.”
His jaw flexes. “I’m aware. The qoru—”
“I’m not the qoru.” Taking the male’s face between my palms, I pierce his eyes with mine. “You can get free just by asking me to release you. No violence required. All right?” I wink at him. “Unless you suddenly feel like it, of course.”
Coal swallows. Nods. Inhales sharply as I let my hands roam over his body, letting all my instincts free, my longing to touch his perfect, battle-hardened muscles to my heart’s content. I spread my palms along the great bulk of his pectorals before moving to the laces of his shirt. The thin cords make a whooshing sound as I pull each free and drop them onto the carefully swept floor.
The heat coming off the male is strong enough to bake bread, and the tension in his muscles as he struggles to stay still beneath my touch is as heartbreaking as it is exciting. With the shirt opened, the top of Coal’s sculpted abdomen is visible through the bottom corner. Of course, with his hands bound, I realize I can’t get the bloody thing over his head no matter how many laces I undo.
The corner of Coal’s mouth twitches as he comes to the same realization. Though he probably worked that out for himself minutes ago.
I meet his blue eyes, the heat in mine making him lean back warily. “I hope this isn’t one of your favorites.” Running my hands along Coal’s waist, hips, and thighs, I bend down to pull a knife from his boot.
The male stills.
Putting the sharp blade against the fabric, I cut through it with quick, jerky motions that have the cloth sliding off his smoothly muscled frame, his breath hitching at the blade’s nearness. Placing the knife within reach, I crouch again to relieve Coal of his left boot, then his right. By the time I start on his fly, what was left of color in the warrior’s face is gone, his eyes watching every single one of my movements as his heart pounds.
“It’s me, Coal,” I whisper into his ear, though I have to stand on tiptoes to do so. “It’s you and me. And no one else but the magic we’ll release.”
Hooking my thumbs into the waistband of his trousers, I slide them off his muscular legs. His cock twitches as its restraints disappear and chill air brushes bare skin. I mean to study Coal’s face but my eyes trip on the large shaft, standing even now, as arousal battles fear. When I run my hand over it, tracing the full veins along its sensitive underside, the whole damn thing wakens even further, Coal’s body going rigid against the post.
Looking up, I find the male’s chest heaving, the muscles of his jaw so tight that they quiver beneath his skin. My own heart speeds, the fear rolling off Coal so palpable that my pulse responds in a sympathetic gallop. I brush his cock again, this time watching his eyes. Knowing there is more lurking underneath.
I feel it a moment later, the rumbling of magic waking in my chest, an answering call to the power roaring in Coal. The first magic I’ve felt from him in two weeks, outside of River’s cautious training sessions. Yes. “Do you want me to stop?” I ask.
He shakes his head no.
“Good,” I whisper. “Neither do I.” I brush my hands over his muscles, assessing. Deciding. My mouth aches to close around that standing cock of his, but I rein myself in. Hard. Licking one of Coal’s nipples instead, I feel him jerk against the restraints—this time with more need than fear. I attend to his other nipple next, circling it with my tongue before taking the whole of it in my mouth. Showing Coal my plans for lower down.
He gasps, his cock full and throbbing against me. “You’ll pay for this in the sparring ring, mortal.”
“Mmm.” My hands roam over the hard squares of his abdomen, each fitting like a brick in my palm. My fingers slide lower and lower along the grooves, my mouth watering at the smooth skin covering steel strength. Reaching the top of his tight blond curls, I feel the wetness of my own sex seeping into my underthings.
One hand cupping Coal’s sack, I use my foot to spread his legs apart, my motions hard and ruthless.
Coal curses, his hips bucking in spite of himself as I stroke his cock with my tongue, running the tip along his whole luxurious length. Up and down, up and down, stopping only to rub around the throbbing head.
A bead of moisture forms along Coal’s slit and I lap it up, the salty taste of him making my sex ache with the need to have him inside me. The simmering magic in my blood blazes. Roars. Demands a fight, a match, a release strong enough to explode the skies.
I nip Coal, the magic inside me—Coal’s magic—wanting so, so much more.
Taking him deeply into my mouth, I suck the throbbing shaft, my hands sliding in rhythm along his sensitive skin. Again. Again. My mouth moves along his quivering cock until the exquisite taste of him coats my entire tongue. And it’s still not enough. Tongue and lips on Coal’s shaft, my hand tightens around his sack hard enough that the male’s whole body spasms. The magic inside me tightens, the climax that could rip down the stable just one suckle of Coal’s cock away.
Stars.
I nip him and pull away sharply, the sudden loss of his cock painful in itself.
A roar escapes Coal’s mouth, his body jerking against the restraints, his breaths coming in pants of need that echo my own. His eyes are glazed, purple flecks peppering the brilliant blue. Fighting. Battling. Despite the chill, sweat beads along Coal’s brow, fear and desire overwhelming his senses. Bringing him to the brink of sensation.
“Who am I?” I demand, my body screaming to reclaim the connection.
“A mortal,” Coal says between clenched teeth. “One who will pay for this.”
I show him my teeth, nipping the air the way I just did his cock. “One day, no doubt.”
“No.Now.” The post holding Coal buckles, the ropes around his wrists snapping like so much twine. Stripes of blood encircle his forearms where the rope cut into his skin.
