Fantasyland 04 Broken Dove (19 page)

My head tipped to the side as I stared at it.

It wasn’t unusual for the finer establishments to have a pot of tea or a bottle of brandy waiting for you in your room when you came up from dinner.

But usually, you ordered it.

Maybe when Apollo was downstairs without me, he’d ordered it.

The thing was that the teapot and cups were made of fine china, embellished with gold engravings around which were beautiful emerald green designs. In my experience of that world, this was not something an inn like that would have.

“Maybe they pull out the good stuff when the gentry come to call,” I murmured, reaching out a hand to lift the top off the teapot.

I did this because I was curious. I didn’t intend to drink it. I needed to get to sleep, and fast, hopefully before Apollo showed, and the tea here had caffeine in it.

But the top dropped with a clatter to the table when I released it in surprise as a soft glow emanated from the pot.

“What the…?” I whispered, leaning in and peering closer.

Yep. There it was. A soft glow.

A
pretty
soft glow.

“How weird,” I murmured, unafraid because I’d spent over four months in that world and I’d seen some amazing stuff, all of it beautiful, so at that point glowing tea didn’t faze me.

I hooked my fingers around the delicate handle, lifted it to my nose and took a sniff.

“Wow,” I breathed.

It smelled
divine.
Like peppermint mixed with licorice and vanilla.

It was clear this was herbal tea and I wondered if they provided it to soothe you and help you get to sleep. Or if Apollo had ordered it for that reason.

The one thing I knew, that smell was certainly soothing.

And I could use some soothing. I could also use some warm in my belly. The fire was great but I’d learned in my time in Lunwyn that I wouldn’t be warm and toasty until I was under the covers.

I put the top back on the pot and poured a cup, grinning in fascination as I noted the glitter dancing in the tea.

No wonder it glowed.

I took a cautious sip and closed my eyes slowly.

Bliss.

I then took a not-cautious sip, enjoyed it immensely and put the cup down. I moved to the bed, pulled up my skirts and tugged off my boots. I was also wearing tights of a fine, soft cream wool. I pulled those down too.

And felt them slide magnificently across every inch of my skin.

Although that hadn’t happened the times I’d done it before, I wasn’t surprised. The wool of my tights wasn’t cashmere, but its softness was close. And it was warm, so it wasn’t a surprise the coolness of the room hitting my legs when I lost that warmth made me tremble.

I went to my trunk, unlocked it and threw it open, tossing the tights inside and grabbing a nightgown that I’d laid on top.

It was unfortunate at this juncture with the sleeping arrangements that all my nightgowns were awesome, as in awesomely
sexy
. But I was hoping to be under the covers before Apollo saw one.

I went back to the table and nabbed the cup, taking two more quick sips as I walked back to the bed. I tossed the nightgown on the bed to free my hands to take off my dress, but when I’d done that, I didn’t take off the dress.

I wrapped both hands around the warm cup and drank more of that heavenly tea.

Then more.

And I did this because I suddenly wasn’t sipping tea.

I was
experiencing
it, an explosion on my taste buds and a warmth that spread through me from inside to out.

My eyelids got heavy as I took another sip and became vaguely conscious of every inch of my skin. This was because it was tingling in a way I
really
liked. I took one hand from the cup and wrapped it around my belly to hold myself as I experienced it.

“Fabulous,” I whispered, lifting the cup and drinking in more.

Suddenly, my legs were restless, moving without me telling them to. My knees went back and forth, rubbing my thighs together, the friction warming them and sliding up between my legs, an area I noted just then was drenched with wet.

“Oh God,” I breathed, looking into the glittering dregs of the tea.

This wasn’t right.

My hand moved from my waist over to my belly and down and I couldn’t stop it.

God, I had to touch myself,
now.

I swallowed and put the cup down. Lifting my other hand to my hair, I pulled out the ribbon that held it in a ponytail at the nape of my neck. The fall of my hair drifting across my back was vague through the cashmere of my dress, but I still felt it sear through me, making my nipples hard. So hard they were aching.

“Oh
God,
” I whispered, knowing something in that tea was making me feel this way.

But it was too late.

My hand at my belly moved down to cover the juncture of my legs.

Apollo was coming back at any moment, but I had to touch myself.

I
had
to.

Or better, find someone to touch me.

Oh yes.

Find someone to touch me.

It had been years.
Years.

On that thought, I moved my hands to the sides of my skirts, clenched them into the material and pulled up.

A soft knock came at the door.

My eyes went to the door and my mind filled with Apollo in his turtleneck and breeches.

Especially those
breeches.

Blood rushed to my breasts and more wet saturated between my legs.

“Ils…Madeleine?” his deep voice sounded outside the door.

I was across the room in a flash.

I turned the lock, threw open the door and reached out a hand. I clenched it in his sweater and yanked him into the room.

“Bloody hell, what—?”

I knew I should stop. I knew it.

I just couldn’t.

I ran my hands over his sweater at his chest, the feel of the soft thick wool and the hint of hardness beneath it, swear to God, I nearly climaxed on the spot.

My knees did get weak and I had to lean into him, my hand darting up and curling around the back of his neck.

I put pressure on and tipped my head back to see him looking across the room. I distractedly noticed he’d put a hand to my waist but his body was tight and unmoving as I unsuccessfully tried to pull his head down to me at the same time I pressed deep into his body.

Finally, what seemed like took years, his chin dipped and his unbelievable jade eyes looked into mine.

“Madeleine, my dove, did you drink that tea?” he asked gently, but his tone also sounded wary, urgent and alarmed.

“It’s delicious,” I whispered, going up on my toes, burrowing close to his body, putting more pressure on his neck, my other hand sliding down his chest with a specific aim.

He caught that wrist and yanked my hand back up his chest and pressed it there.

“Listen to me,” he said, now sounding only urgent.

“Okay,” I replied and successfully got my nose on his jaw.

I ran it the length and felt his fingers around my wrist tighten. I took that as a good sign so when I came back down his jaw, I used my lips.

He pulled back and shook me carefully. “Maddie, look at me and listen.”

“Come closer,” I begged.

“I need to gag you and tie you to the bed,” he declared.

Oh God.

Awesome.

“
Yes,
” I breathed, pressing close to him again.

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 assured 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 assure 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.”

“Gods,” 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 breasts heavy, my breaths shallow, my sex saturated, every inch of my skin sensitized, and I thought,
Fuck 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 ass 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, “Gods damn 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.

God, his eyes.

That mouth.

God.

“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 God.

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.”