He followed me the single step. My knees bumped against the bed.

I wished I could say his focus remained on my face, but it didn't—not that I was ashamed of my body.

Still, I banded my arms around my breasts when his attention lingered there for several beats. His nostrils flared when I covered them and pressed my thighs together because under the heat of his glare, my body wanted to open rather than close.

My mind understood it wasn't the best idea.

I hung onto some kind of independence by a thin thread. Not only practical independence, but mental, and emotional. I wasn't so far gone that I couldn't make myself walk away if the opportunity arose.

If he took me to bed?

If he took me to bed, slaked all that passion on my body, wrung it from my own, I wouldn't be able to walk away. Ever. I would belong to him. As long as he didn’t threaten my career, I’d probably give him whatever he wanted. That wasn’t the healthiest attitude.

“I know you don't mean to tempt me,” Andrei murmured, “but I don't care.” His hand curled into a fist. “I am. . .tempted.”

“I should dress. We have to leave soon.”

He smiled slightly. “Soon.”

There was a dreamlike quality to the word. Andrei took another tiny step forward and I barely contained a flinch because the heat rising off his body was of the too hot to touch, and definitely too hot to handle, variety.

“Andrei. . .”

“I’m only a man, my Anah. How far do you think my self-control can stretch?”

Some of the heat I felt now wasn't desire, or the power radiating from his skin, but my own anger. “As far as I say! We shouldn't be living together. You know that. Especially if you can't control yourself.”

Andrei lowered his head, the tip of his nose caressing my neck. I acquiesced without thinking; my traitorous instincts. He inhaled, then darted out his tongue to trail a delicate wet line up the column of my throat.

He shuddered. “You taste. . .I want—”

Control broke. A hand rose, buried in my hair, pulling my head back further. I stared into eyes with pupils blown entirely black.

“You taste like everything I want, and nothing I deserve.” His hand tightened, and I made a noise in the back of my throat. Part pain, part anticipation. “But I’ll take you anyway. I don't care.”

His mouth fastened over mine, his tall, strong body pressing against my naked form. The hand he'd kept at his side slid around my back, resting slightly above the curve of my buttocks. He pressed me into him, against his hard erection. My arms were trapped against his chest, not that they would do me any good.

If he wanted to have me against my will, he would. It wouldn't even be against my will, not after a time. I wanted him, my body throbbed with wanting him, but I was afraid.

Of losing everything.

“Give me something, Anah.” He'd released my mouth and was now trailing kisses along my collarbone, arching my back to give him better access. “Give me anything to sate this madness. I don’t want to force you. I don’t want to hurt you. I’m fighting myself and I don’t know how much longer I will last. I wasn’t prepared.”

Perversely, the note of desperation in his voice calmed me. 

“What do you want?” I asked. “What would help?”

He slid an arm under my buttocks and lifted me. I squealed, throwing my arms around his neck as he tumbled me onto the bed—not onto the dress, thank you.

“Open for me.” He braced a knee on the bed, his hands bracketing my head, his eyes hot on my body. “Open your legs. Let me taste you.”

I covered my face with my hands. “Oh, sweet baby Jesus.”

Andrei paused. “Your constant references to your infant demigod puzzle me. . .has no man ever pleasured you with his mouth?”

I so did not want to have this conversation. “Not effectively, or with any enthusiasm. To be honest, I really don't like it.”

Another long pause, but I didn't take the bait. I kept my face covered. My cheeks were probably as hot as his skin by now.

“You don't like it. I. . .see. That might explain some things.”

Now I did lower my hands, glaring at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

He drew a finger down the valley between my breasts, his gaze holding mine. “I don't think you could resist me so obstinately if you had any idea what I could do to you. Do you like sex at all?”

I shifted my attention to the wall over his shoulder.

Andrei sighed. “If I were a better man that would displease me. But their foolishness will only work in my favor. Shall we make a bargain?”

I jerked my gaze back to his. He’d slipped into Cassanian that last sentence, but it was a standard phrase I’d learned. Andrei gave me a bland smile, eyes a little too wide as he tilted his head. Because his hair was slicked back, it couldn't fall in his face and give him that faux innocent look he liked to weaponize.

“The bargain?” I asked, voice flat.

I guessed we were starting the Phases now. Somehow we’d skipped to Phase Three:

(Bargaining) He Insists More Sex Makes Everything Better or It Can’t Hurt That Bad, You Must Be Exaggerating.

AKA: Gaslighting

Except in this case, it wasn’t more. Hence the skipping Phases, which was a really bad sign. I didn’t like when they mixed them either, that always made things messier.

“If I can't make you come with nothing but my mouth, I'll accept whatever decision you make regarding your living quarters.”

My eyes widened. “You'll let me move back to my apartment?”

“Yes.” The sound tore out of him. Then his voice calmed. “But it won't come to that.”

“You're awfully confident.” 

The smile turned sweet. I didn't think he meant me to see the teeth of the trap underneath.

“Take the bargain, Hasannah.” Sharp teeth.

“All right. Bargain accepted.”

“Good girl. Now spread your thighs wide for me. . .yes, darling.” Andrei slid off the bed to his knees. “I could roll in your scent for hours, but we don't have the time.”

I cringed a little, since that scent was old-fashioned, slightly sweaty woman. . .oh, well. He seemed to like it.

To each his own?

“I said only my mouth, so be a darling and spread your folds open for me?”

“What? No, I am not going to—”

“Hasannah.”

I shuddered. The name was a sing-song caress, a promise, a threat. It bounced off every nerve ending, and I thought maybe I was close to that unicorn orgasm from the sound of his voice saying my name.

“Use your hand, darling, and touch yourself.”

I couldn't look at him, so I closed my eyes.

“Yes, close your eyes if you must.” Rich amusement in his voice now. “Do you feel your clit? Prime it for me. . .a little. No, woman, don't be rough. Gently.”

“I can't believe I'm doing this,” I muttered, then bit my lip.

Slowly, my stiff spine relaxed, my hips opening.

“Good girl,” he crooned.

I jerked as his breath tickled between my legs.

“Open your lips, grant me access. So pretty and plump, so pink with want. Open a little more, darling, don't be shy. Though I like when you're shy for me.”

His cheek nudged the inside of my thigh, and then his mouth replaced my fingers, his tongue. . .I moaned.

His tongue.

Between the licking, the suckling, he whispered more instructions. Instructions, and filthy, heated words. My thighs wrapped around his neck, my hips undulating to the thrust of his tongue.

“Which do you like better, my pretty mortal?” A long, slow, lap of his tongue. “My tongue on your clit or my tongue buried in your pussy?”

I cried out as he alternated doing things that should be considered a sin. A tongue wasn't meant to behave like. . .wasn't meant to. . .I understood now what eating out should feel like.

I understood so many more things as I came apart under nothing but his tongue and lips. Blissfully pain free.

I understood that even without his cock inside my body, I was already thoroughly claimed.

This had been a mistake. Overwhelm primed me for a melt down. 

“Anah?” Andrei stood, leaning over me, brows creased. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m not crying.” I sat up, scooting back, and pulled my knees up to my chest.

He leaned a knee on the bed, studying me. “You’ll tell me what’s wrong. I can’t fix it if you don’t.”

I avoided his gaze, tightening my lips. He was right, and I needed to be an adult about this. “I’m feeling a little overwhelmed.”

“Were my attentions against your will?” 

Jerking my gaze back to his, I met carefully neutral eyes. “No! That’s not it. I—” I grimaced. “Sex is usually uncomfortable. I’m relieved.”

Andrei didn’t move. “And this is what makes you cry?”

I refused to get mad, speaking in an even tone. “You might cry too, if you thought you could never—” I shook my head.

“I. . .see. When you say usually uncomfortable—”

I held up a hand. “Please. I can’t talk about this yet. The discussion is always the beginning of the end.”

Another long silence, and I felt his need to press me before he retreated.

“All right, darling,” he said. “When you’re ready, we’ll talk. Now, lie down. We have a few more minutes and I find I like your tears. I’m going to make you cry some more.”

He didn't stop until I'd come twice, and only because, annoyingly, the time to leave had passed. The only reason I didn’t panic was because I was certain no one would blame me when I showed up on his arm. No one would say anything at all, I bet.

“Is the bargain fulfilled to your satisfaction?” he asked against my ear.

I nodded, swallowing, my throat dry.

“Excellent.” He turned his head, kissed me, and I tasted myself on his lips, on his tongue as he entered my mouth. “Tell me to stop if there’s pain or discomfort.”

His fingers slid inside my body. I tensed automatically, but he’d penetrated me with care, watching my face as he filled space that instinctively ached for more of him.

I let out a breath, relaxing slightly. There was no jerking, desperate thrashing as he flailed around trying to figure out how to please me and avoid causing pain while I insisted he not bother. No, just a certain, sensual, careful internal glide, a slow rotation of his fingers and an easy withdrawal.

“Before was for you,” he said, fingers glistening, “but this is for me. When I sip my wine tonight, I'll scent you on my skin. I’ll probably wind up intoxicated.”

A drunk, horny, and probably territorial Andrei. That thought should terrify me but I couldn’t focus enough for good sense.

He entered me again, and this time there wasn’t even an instinctive flinch. My body was learning to trust as much as it was learning to want. Light pressure, shallow strokes, he unerringly found the spot inside me that had me stiffening, but in a good way.

I rode his fingers to another climax as he stroked inside, thumb pressed against my nub. I cried out as my core convulsed.

When my vision cleared, I looked up into his face. It was still savage, the skin still translucent. . .but he smiled with a measure of calm content I hoped would get us drama free through the evening.

“Now,” he said, “you can dress.”

He helped me stand, held my shoulders while my legs remembered how that whole standing thing worked, watching me as I slid into the dress.

“I should clean—” I began.

“No.”

“Andrei.”

His eyes turned flinty. “No. I will remain on your arm all evening, and any male who approaches will scent your satisfaction. They'll know you're mine, by your own choice.”

I stared at him. At his glossy lips. “That's. . .that's insane.”

“Darling, I’m a High Lord. This is barely the beginning of insane.”