His eyes flashed, the pads of his fingers at my waist and those around my wrist dug in and he said, "No, my dove, not for that. For your own good. You've had adela tea and the effects won't wear off for some time. I need to leave you alone. And so you don't get into trouble, I need to tie you down."

"I'm okay with the tying down bit, not okay with the leaving bit," I told him.

"I must."

"You mustn't."

"Maddie, I must."

I shook my head and pressed closer. "Please, don't leave."

"But I must," he repeated.

I ignored that and pulled him with me as I took a step back, urging, "Come to bed."

"I can't."

I slid my hand to his jaw and got up on tiptoe, begging, "Please."

He moved both of his hands to my face and dipped his close, but his hold on me was firm so I couldn't get to his mouth. I knew this because I tried.

"My poppy, focus on my eyes, listen to me."

"I'm listening," I a.s.sured him. "But I can listen better in bed."

"We get in that bed, neither of us will be talking."

"I'm down with that too," I shared.

"I think I understand what you mean by that, and if I do, I can also a.s.sure you won't be down with that in the morning."

"I will," I replied quickly. "I promise. Swear."

"Maddie-"

I got up on my toes as close to him as I could.

He moved that inch away, which sucked.

I tried a different tactic and whispered, "It's been over three years."

"G.o.ds," he rumbled, the sound of that single word going through me in a way that I had to stifle a moan of pleasure.

"I need you, baby," I pleaded.

"This isn't right, my dove. You don't know it now but you'll thank me in the morning."

"It's right. It's so right." I pushed closer. "It's been years, honey. I need your hands on me. Your mouth on me."

"Maddie-" he started, the sound like a groan, spurring me on.

I held his eyes and framed his face with my hands as he was mine and whispered, "I need you."

"You don't, my dove. It's the tea," he whispered back.

I stared at him, my b.r.e.a.s.t.s heavy, my breaths shallow, my s.e.x saturated, every inch of my skin sensitized, and I thought, f.u.c.k it.

I let him go and stepped back so he let me go.

I watched his hands fall to the sides and I took in all that was him.

There was a lot.

And all of it was good.

Then I pounced.

I landed on him with arms around his shoulders and curled my legs around his hips. Automatically, his hands went to my a.s.s to catch me and a whimper slid up my throat at his touch as I slammed my mouth down on his.

His hand slid up my back and into my hair and that was good.

Until he turned his head away, breaking the contact of our lips.

He shoved his face in my neck and muttered, "G.o.ds d.a.m.n it."

I hoped that was capitulation and I had hope since he was walking me to the bed.

Then he put me down on it, but once he'd done that, he captured both of my hands and yanked them over my head. Holding them in one of his, his other went to his belt.

I had a feeling I knew what this meant and it was not that he was giving me what I wanted but that he was going to use his belt to tie me to the bed and then take off.

"You're leaving me?" I gasped, seeking confirmation.

"For your own good, poppy," he confirmed.

I shook my head. "Then don't tie me down. If you have to go, go. But I need my hands."

He took my meaning. I knew this when his eyes darkened and went over my head as his lips murmured, "I should have gagged her first."

I struggled on the bed. "If you're going to leave me like this, I need my hands, Apollo."

I was writhing uncontrollably on the bed and he was watching me.

G.o.d, his eyes.

That mouth.

G.o.d.

"If I can't have you, let me have my hands." I sounded desperate and imploring, mostly because I was.

Something had to give and soon.

I licked my lips and watched a muscle tick up his cheek and it was hot.

So hot, I moaned.

At my moan, his voice gruff, he demanded, "You're in no shape but still, swear it. Swear it to me now, Madeleine. No recriminations tomorrow."

Oh my G.o.d.

Was he...?

I wasn't going to waste time asking.

I shook my head frantically. "None, nope, not a one. It'll all be good tomorrow. All good."

His gaze burned into mine and it did this, like, forever.

So long, I couldn't take a moment longer and breathed, "Baby."

His eyes moved to my mouth. "This word goes through me like a knife."

"Is that good?" I asked.

His eyes came back to mine.

Then he let me go and exited the bed.

s.h.i.t.

He moved to the door.

s.h.i.t!

He stopped at it, locked it and moved to the table.

Oh G.o.d.

Yes.

I pushed up to my knees, yanking my skirts out from under them so I could walk on them across the bed. I stopped at its edge.

He poured a cup of tea, and just the delicate cup in his big hand turned me on beyond reason (not that I wasn't already there) and nearly sent me over the edge.

I did a full-body tremble when he put the cup to his mouth and threw his head back, downing it.

Oh G.o.d.

Yes.

He put the cup down and turned to me.

G.o.d, oh G.o.d, he was beautiful.

I stood on my knees on the bed, the insides of my thighs quivering, and stared at him.

He stared back.

"You're beautiful, Apollo," I whispered.

I watched him run his tongue over his lower lip.

At the sight, my s.e.x convulsed and I whimpered.

At my sound, Apollo lunged.

Finally.

I was on my back in the bed, Apollo on me and he felt so good, so d.a.m.ned good.

What was better was his mouth on mine and his tongue in my mouth.

That wasn't good, that was awesome.

But I wanted more and he'd made me wait long enough, I was going to get it.

I slid my hands in his sweater and yanked up. He broke contact with my mouth to arch back, lifting his arms. I tugged his sweater off and tossed it away.

He came back to me, lips to lips, tongues tangling and I moaned into his mouth as I bucked. He let me move him but I suspected only because he knew I'd move with him, and I did. He rolled to his back, me on top and then it was me breaking contact with our lips.

But my lips didn't break contact with him. They slid down his neck, over to his corded throat, down his chest, the ridges of his stomach to the waistband of his breeches.

There, I broke away but only to lift up to straddling him. I clenched my fingers in my dress and tugged it off, the cashmere dragging over my skin in a way that made my nipples ache and my c.l.i.t pulse.

"G.o.ds," he grunted.

I was wearing nothing but green satin panties and a cream satin bustier with green ribbons, and my guess from his tone, he liked it.

I looked down at him staring up at me, his face dark, his eyes hot, feeling my lips curl in a little smile that made him say, "G.o.ds," again but in a groan this time.

I felt that groan shoot straight between my legs and knew it was time to get a move on.

So I did, moving off the bed. I grabbed him behind his knee and lifted up his calf. Straddling it, I yanked off his boot, then his sock. On to the next foot then I was moving to him. He'd already unb.u.t.toned his breeches and I curled my fingers in his waistband, tugging down. Apollo helped by bucking his hips from the bed and they were off.

I tossed them behind me and entered the bed, crawling up him on all fours, my eyes on my goal.

And what a goal. His c.o.c.k was hard, thick and long, the veins distended in a way that demanded the trace of a tip of a tongue. So big. So swollen. So beautiful.