He takes another step. “Limits?”
Limits. Limits for—
Another foot closer. I can smell him. Floral and greenery and—maybe that smell is on me now. His cologne. On my skin.
He stops. Close enough to touch.
“You told me to use your body,” he says. Without music to dampen it, I can hear every facet of his growl; ripples and rough edges, it serrates along my spine in a delicious shiver. “How do you want me to do that? Or, more importantly, what do younotwant me to do?”
“Uh—pain,” I rasp out. “No hitting or spanking or anything.”
His fingers lift, and my lungs clench shut. He pinches the zipper of my coat, pulls it down, unlocking it tooth by tooth until he works the thing open and pushes the warm material off my arms.
I shiver again, not sure I’ll ever be able to stop.
“Same,” Elethior says. “Another of mine is that I don’t share.Even if this is only physical, I won’t be fooling around with anyone else. And I don’t want you to either. For safety reasons, and because I’m a possessive fucking bastard.”
His hands brace on either side of my hips where I’m still against the table, and Elethior leans in, caging me to his body again, but facing him is a whole other inferno. Our eyes connect and fire ignites, the coarse drag of a match followed by the flicker and sizzle of a flame’s first sparks.
I swallow fully, throat clicking. Oh look, that feature’s back online.
“Ah,” is my very educated response. “Yeah. Sure. I, uh, I haven’t been with anyone in—” I think back. “A few months.” Okay,fewis an understatement. “Since before I got tested, and I was negative then, so.”
Elethior cocks his head. “What about the date you had?”
The what I what?
He studies my confusion. “The date?” he asks again. “Before the cocktail party?”
I snort. “That wasn’t real. I was fucking with you.”
He looks unconvinced. “And that bartender?”
“What bartender?”
“At the—” His face turns red. Those stripes right along his cheekbones. “At that same party. He was—he seemed—” His eyes roll shut. “But you did leave alone, so forget I—”
My smile is slow and wicked. “Gods damn. Youarepossessive.”
Even then.
Before we’d started anything remotely close tothis.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to mock him. To ask,How long have you wanted me, Tourael?
But it crumbles in my mouth. The teasing, the humor.
How longhashe wanted me?
Has our every argument been foreplay for him?
Has our every argument been foreplay forme?
Elethior looks at me again. “But it’s the same for me. I haven’t been with anyone in months, and I’m negative.”
“So we’ll be—” I cut myself off, the wordexclusivesettling next to the half of me that told him to stay back.
My fingers rise to grip his shirt like they did at the club; it’s muscle memory already.
