Christus waited until I had poured us each a large cupful of what taste revealed to be mulsum, strong wine mixed with honey. I was glad that I had managed to pour without spilling, for my hands were shaking with nerves from the dominus’ words, and with anticipation and desire over Christus’ touch.
I sipped at my wine after handing Christus his cup, chugged at it actually, I was so anxious. I did not know if he had touched his—I would not look at him, and I could not hear over the racing of my own heart.
But when I lowered the thick cup from my lips, I was pressed against the waist-high table with one smooth, sure movement. Strong arms leaned against the hard wood on either side of me, caging me in, and my body went liquid with such rapidity that I lost my grip on the cup. It fell to the floor and shattered, and the sweet liquid splattered over my neck and chest, gluing the thin leather to my skin.
My hand fumbled for a cloth, but Christus caught both of my slim wrists, encircled them with his fingers.
“Let me.” A startled gasp fell from my lips when I felt the rasp of his tongue on the cord of my neck.
This was my last moment to retreat.
I did not.
Christus licked a line up my neck, from my shoulder to the supple skin of my jaw, before moving his lips surely to my own. This time the kiss did not take me by surprise, and I responded with fervor that I had not known I possessed. My knees threatened to give out on me, and I wound my arms tentatively around his broad shoulders for support. He murmured with pleasure when I did, and it gave me the courage to open my mouth and drink in his kiss.
His mouth tasted like grapes and honey, rich and sweet.
His lips slanted over mine, his tongue nipping out to flick over my lips. I moaned when he sank his teeth into my full lower lip and suckled it into his mouth, and my nipples contracted to the point of pain with need.
Oh. Oh. I wanted . . . I wasn’t sure what I wanted. More of the pleasure from the night before, certainly. Something was building up inside of me, something that demanded more.
That something had me rocking my hips forward, and Christus moaned out loud when I pressed against him.
“Careful.” Catching me under my elbows, he lifted me easily until my ass was settled on the edge of the table. Sliding firm hands down the length of my slender legs, he tugged at my ankles until I wrapped the limbs around his waist.
“That’s it.” With my legs wrapped so tightly, I was forced to lean back, and he took advantage of the position to strip my wet leather top over my head and away.
I gasped with shock at the intimacy of our position. My fevered center was pressed against his cock, which was hard as stone—hard for me. The skin of my arms and belly prickled with both a chill and anticipation as they felt the biting kiss of the cool air, and then they were drenched with heat as Christus nuzzled his face between my breasts and bit once lightly.
“Oh. Oh!” I closed my eyes in reflex as his tongue began to move over my skin, lapping at the slickness that the spilled wine had left. I felt that I should be embarrassed, or shy, or something, but his hands were filling my mind with pleasure, with no room for anything else. One of his hands reached up to clasp my breast, his thumb strumming over my nipple, and I stopped trying to think altogether.
Sliding my hands up to his shoulders, I clenched tightly, holding on for support as I tipped my head back and was swallowed up by sensation.
His hands were hard and callused from incessant training, and they scraped as they moved over my upper body. It felt incredible, and I rocked my pelvis forward in response. My hands fell from his shoulders to his waist, and toyed with the edge of rough leather there.
With a harsh noise, he ripped at the leather knot that held his subligaculum closed at the waist. Taking his hands off of me for only as long as it took to unfasten the leather, he returned them quickly, and I felt naked skin press against me the moment after.
His fingers fumbled with the knot of my leather top. I began to shake. The fingers slowed their movements.
“Are you all right?”
I nodded frantically, anxious for him to resume his exploration of my body. “Yes. Yes. I just . . .” I let my voice trail away, far less interested in talking than in touching. I ran my hands over his back. I wanted to hurry, but was not sure how to initiate that.
“If you’re not sure, you’d better tell me now.” Christus growled as my fingers grew ever braver and found the swollen head of his cock, standing up from its nest of dark curls.
“Last chance.” His voice was rough. Unsure of what words to use, but more certain than I had been of anything, ever, I slowly and deliberately rubbed my fingers over the weeping tip of his erection.
Growling again, he moved his fingers down to join mine and helped me to fist his shaft. I bit my lip, then slowly slid my hand down, reveling in the masculine groan that rent the air.