Page 311 of Vasmora

“You are so sure of yourself.” I narrowed my eyes on him. “I could easily decide never to sleep with you again.”

His brow kicked up. “You think you’re capable of that?” The rigid erection pressing against my thigh emphasized his question.

“I have fingers and a very vivid imagination.”

“Mmm. And who might you be imagining when you put those fingers to use?” He ghosted his palm across my stomach to my breast, where he circled my nipple. Teasing me.

I squeezed my thighs together, the ache between them throbbing with every sweep of his calloused fingertip. Gods, how I craved those strong hands massaging them. My breaths grew heavy at the thought, eyes hooded. “You,” I breathed.

“And you think this spectral image of me would satisfy you?”

I knew it wouldn’t. Each time he’d left for long stretches, I found myself desperate for the relief I felt on the nights he came home.

“I’d make do.” My body practically screamed in protest.

“Would you now?” He skimmed his fingers lower, down my abdomen to the swollen mound of flesh that begged for his touch. “So, I should stop now and let you finish on your own?”

“Have you forgotten how stubborn I can be?”

“You haven’t told me to stop, moon witch,” he whispered. “Say the word, and I will leave you to yourself.”

“You can so easily avoid touching me? Lying beside me as I bring myself to climax, moaning your name?”

His shuddered breath dappled my shoulders, and I smiled. “Fuck. The very thought of that makes me weak.”

“You ought not toy with me, Scorpion. I’ve become very aware of what brings me pleasure. Hours alone at night. What lewd thoughts come to mind.”

“Gods alive, I’ve dreamed of you every night since we’ve been apart, A’miszhla. I rode until my muscles damn near gave out to get home to you.”

I ran my fingers through his hair and traced a line down the veins in his neck. “You must be exhausted, then. Too exhausted?”

“For you? Never.”

I stilled and huffed. “You see? This is precisely what I mean. Where is your morally black from time to time?”

His dark chuckle only heightened the voracious appetite he’d already stirred. “I like to reserve my malevolence for those more deserving.”

“Like whom?”

He glanced down and back. “Like this irksome tunic getting in my way.”

“I shudder at what you might do to the poor, helpless thing.”

“You could spare it by taking it off yourself.”

“What’s the fun in that?” I toyed with a curl behind his ear.

Dimples formed in his cheeks as he smiled down at me.

“You are insufferably handsome,” I said.

“And you are painfully breathtaking.” He stroked a thumb down my temple. “My chest physically aches every time I look at you.”

“Every time? Maybe I should wear a mask.”

“I have one you could borrow.”

Both of us broke into laughter, perhaps a little too exhausted.