Page 118 of The Lost Art of Seducing a Mage Warrior

Oh, right. Perian grinned at him. “True.”

So that was exactly what they did. They stripped, carefully unbandaged and cleaned Perian’s healing burn, and by the time they had it all bandaged up again, they were both thoroughly aroused.

“I think you should get on the bed,” Brannal said.

Perian got on the bed.

Brannal eyed him. “Now, we wouldn’t want to injure your arm, would we?”

Perian shook his head.

“I think you should reach your arms up and hold onto the bed frame so you don’t move your hands or arms. What do you think?”

Perian thought that was an excellent idea. His cock, jutting proudly, with pre-come now dribbling from the head, definitely agreed. Brannal smirked at him and then crawled onto the bed on all fours, caging Perian in.

“Do you think you can keep your hands there?”

Perian nodded.

And then, because Brannal was definitely a tease, he proceeded to kiss and lick and nibble all over Perian…exceptwhere he most wanted to be touched. Not that it wasn’t delightful in the other locations because it really was, but he didn’t just want to feel Brannal’s tongue flicking at his nipple or his teeth grazing along his inner thigh or a kiss pressed to the sole of his foot.

Every time Perian forgot himself and took his hands off the headboard, Brannal stopped what he was doing and just eyed him until he put them back.

It was endlessly frustrating.

And desperately, astonishingly arousing.

Perian lasted an embarrassingly short amount of time when Brannal finally wrapped his mouth around Perian’s cock. He surged forward, spurting helplessly before his body went lax.

“You are the best,” Perian mumbled at him.

Brannal laughed. “Thank you.”

Perian hissed as he finally released his hands and moved his arm, which of course alarmed Brannal.

“Are you all right?”

“M’fine,” Perian told him, sitting up. “Just bending the elbow and getting the blood circulating again.”

Brannal frowned. “I thought that was a good idea.”

“That was thebestidea,” Perian told him promptly.

“I don’t want you to be hurt,” Brannal said softly.

“I still need to move my arm sometimes,” Perian reminded him practically. “Stop worrying so much.”

“I always worry about you.”

Perian was going to take that as a sign of affection rather than an insult.

“In this case, your worry is unwarranted. I would never be so bold as to assume you never need to worry about me again.”

And Brannal huffed a laugh, finally.

“Now,” Perian said, glad the mood had lightened. “What are we going to do about you?”

“Nothing that hurts your arm,” Brannal said promptly.

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