Chapter 11 #2
Bael saunters toward me like some sleek panther on the prowl.
He’s tucked his wet hair behind his ears, and his eyes blaze with hunger.
The cloak is gone and every inch of him is wet, the linen tunic clinging to his chest and abdominals, sleek with rain.
Some part of me yearns to touch him. To brush my knuckles against his abdomen and feel the ripple of solid muscle.
It feels like he towers over me in this moment, and for some strange reason the thought makes my thighs slick.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, brushing a lock of hair back off my shoulder, “if that is all you have known. Among my people, females are cherished. Protected. Their needs met. A male who leaves his female unsatisfied is not worthy of her.”
A shiver runs down my spine. I’ve been groped before—haven’t we all?
—but there’s something about the way he can brush his fingers against my skin and elicit a response that shocks me.
He’s barely touching me. But every inch of my body tightens, from the hard buds of my nipples to the clench of my womb.
I close my eyes. The kiss in the Labyrinth lingers between us like a ghost, and every inch of me trembles. I’m in so much trouble.
Because now I know what his mouth tastes like.
Now I know what it’s like to feel the lash of his tongue against mine.
“Bael,” I whisper, looking up. “You shouldn’t touch me.”
“No?” His fingers hover above my skin as he searches my eyes for permission. “Oh, little huntress, what I could teach you of pleasure.”
My hands betray me, palms splaying wide across his chest.
Bael leans down, breath scoring the sensitive skin of my neck as he breathes in my scent. “But you would have to say yes, my lioness. You would have to beg me for another taste. And I know you want to.”
I suck in a breath, trying not to wilt against him as his lips brush against my ear.
“I can scent the wetness between your thighs. I can feel the tremble on your skin.” His hand comes up, little finger brushing down my bare shoulder, even as the stubble of his cheek scrapes against my jaw.
“I want to devour every hint of that slickness I can scent. You’ll taste so sweet, Zyla.
I know it. I want to drive my tongue deep into your cunt, even as I pin you down.
I want to ruin you.” His voice roughens. “I want to own you.”
I’m a deer in the forest, head up, eyes searching, body trembling, because I know, I know, that the hunter has his arrow focused on me.
“You will never own me,” I whisper.
“No?” The smile he gives me is pure sin.
His finger hooks in the collar of my shirt, dancing over the fabric as he draws it down, toying with my top button.
Still not touching me. But I feel the scrape of his nail against my shirt as if it’s directly on my skin.
“Now I begin to wonder just how experienced you are, lioness, for if you were, then you would know what I speak of. I’m not speaking of putting a collar around your throat.
I’m speaking of your body and how with just one kiss I could consume your every desire, until all you knew was me, and all you craved was my cock. ”
My body draws tight like a lute desperate to be plucked.
His hand curls around my throat like a gentle shackle.
“Mine,” he breathes, leaning closer. His breath stirs over my lips.
“Mine to fuck. My cunt to lick. These lips…” His mouth ghosts over mine, his tongue a light caress against the corner of them.
“And you would learn to beg me for it, Zyla. You would learn—”
A knock comes at the door.
We break apart and I stagger back, back the wall is at my spine. And Holy Malus, but he knows how to get to me.
I want him.
I want everything he promises.
I can still feel his hand around my throat and press my fingertips there. “Sounds like… dinner has just arrived.”
Bael stares deep into my eyes. “Retreat, little huntress. But we’re not done yet.” Then he turns his head and calls, “Come in.”
The little satyr from downstairs pushes a trolley inside laden with dishes, and even a bottle of wine. “Here we go,” she calls cheerfully. “Pharyces has selected his best.”
“Ah, Teanna.” Bael pushes away from me, shooting me one last heated look as if to warn me. “Perfect timing.”
Indeed. My shoulders sink with relief, but every inch of me feels alert. The throb between my thighs is so sensitive, I could almost come with one little stroke of his fingers.
Gather yourself! You need to question him. Not think about running your tongue along his throat.
Gods, what is he doing to me?
Bael sets the table in front of two chairs, then chats with Teanna as she leaves.
As slick as I am, the second I see the food my stomach growls, my attention focusing on the meal.
Hot bread rolls, butter, some kind of stew, a platter of fruit and cheese, and oh, Blessed Malus, but there’s a steaming pudding with raisins in it.
“Eat,” he tells me, offering a piece of meat from the tip of his blade.
The sizzling scent of rabbit makes my mouth water. It’s been a long day with meagre rations.
But to accept such an offering from him—
His eyes tell me he knows the exact dilemma that plagues me. “Eat and we’ll discuss our next steps.”
I sink into the chair beside him and delicately, I reach out and consume the small morsel. Flavor explodes across my tongue. Gods, I’m hungry.
Bael’s eyelids grow heavy with approval, and he swiftly slices another piece of meat off the bone for me.
“You don’t have to feed me,” I point out, though I don’t hesitate to take what he’s offering.
His smile softens. “Sometimes, we have to accept the simple pleasures in life.”
“Pleasure?” I scoff.
“You have no idea what pleases me, little lioness.”
“I think I have some idea.” My body throbs with the echo of it.
There’s a challenge in his eyes as he offers me another mouthful.
He likes feeding me. It’s a primal urge and reminds me that I have to stop thinking of him as human.
It’s also dangerous. Sex is one thing, but this… this hints at a developing kinship between us.
“I was right. Pharyces said there’s going to be another auction. Rhykus has made an alliance with the Baron de Mahl,” Bael says, sipping at his wine. “It’s happening tomorrow at the Crystal Cavern.”
“What is that?”
“The Labyrinth… evolves,” he replies. “Baron de Mahl made a bargain with Kasaros several years ago when he found a cave he liked. It’s full of crystals.
They drip from the ceilings, and some of the walls are so sheer you can see right through them.
De Mahl has people who hold the palace for him throughout the year.
De Mahl’s less… restrained than Rhykus. His auctions are the showpiece of his parties, saved for the end of the evening.
And the parties are merely another word for orgy.
Rhykus is an operation. De Mahl is a debauchery full of every sinful possibility you can imagine. ”
I tilt my head to one side. “I don’t understand. I thought the Labryinth was one way only. You either won or you lost—remaining here for all eternity.”
Bael snorts. “Kasaros regularly breaks his own rules. He’s grown bored over time, allowing corruption to enter his keep.”
I nod, chewing thoughtfully. “How do we get in?”
Bael licks sauce from his thumb. “That’s the problem. One needs an invitation. And a… submissive.”
“Submissive?”
He glances down, breaking apart his bread roll. “It’s a relationship in which one member of the pair is the dominant party, and the other submits to their will. It has to be you, for the women will be on leashes. You would belong to me. And I would own you.”
I roll my tongue over my teeth, licking the juice of a grape off my fingers. “I could do that.”
Bael sets his plate aside. “Zyla, these parties are dangerous. And there are expectations. If you wore my collar, then we may be invited to participate in some of the… events. Or worse, perform.”
“Is there any other way to get into the Crystal Cavern?”
“No. De Mahl’s guards are shifters. They prowl around the caves, ensuring nobody gets in without an invite.”
“We don’t have an invite,” I point out.
“Yet,” Bael counters. “Pharyces can provide one, according to Teanna.”
If that is where Kari is, then that is where we must go. “Let me consider it overnight. We need a plan.”
“So be it.” Bael drains his wine. “Would my lady care for the first bath?”
I’m still off-balance from the way he grabbed my throat. “I’m not bathing in front of you.”
“We’ll see.” Bael pushes to his feet. “But in the meantime, I’m not going to waste perfectly warm water. If you want to join me, you know where I am.”
Mocking me with those wicked eyes, he reaches down, tugging the end of his belt loose.
“Yours,” he whispers, dropping the belt in my lap as he walks past me to check the bath. “Since you have such a keen interest in it.”
I grip the warm leather, my hands scalded by his body heat. “I do not have an interest in your belt.”
“No?”
“No.”
“You seem very interested whenever I remove it.” Head lolling to the side, he eyes me. “And every hour I rub my fingers over the teeth marks you left in the leather, and I think of how prettily you would gasp were I to show you the proper application of it.”
“Bael,” I growl, flinging his belt aside.
“Come. Join me.”
“I’m not getting into a bath with you.” I can barely control myself as it is.
“If we’re going to de Mahl’s, then you’re going to have to do a lot more than this.” A small smile touches his lips as he reaches over his shoulder to haul his tunic off.
There’s barely any warning.
I’m left staring at his bare back, my gaze stuttering to a halt on the small dimples etched on either side, just above his leather trousers.
Bael tosses me his tunic and I catch it in shock, the heat of the fabric melting against my face and hands. Instantly, I’m overwhelmed by the scent of him; a spicy aroma that reminds me of the markets from my homeland.