Page 21 of The Captive's Curse
Chapter Eight
It disappointed me that Enzo had chosen to lead me to my bedroom instead of to his. Did he even have one, or did he prowl the battlements all night, threatening any sentries who dared to yawn with being hung by their toes?
If pressed, I’d have said that my very small and narrow bed accounted for my objections to doing this in my own room.
Well, not to worry. If Bruno remained stubborn, I’d have plenty of time to satisfy my curiosity about Enzo’s bedroom, and make sure he didn’t have the bones of former unransomed captives stashed in the corners of his wardrobe.
Those thoughts distracted me somewhat on our winding walk upstairs and along various corridors and around a million corners, all the way to my door, although I only grew hotter and hotter, sweat gathering on the back of my neck.
But when Enzo stopped in front of my room and turned to me, clearly waiting for me to open the door myself, further distraction proved impossible. The here and now loomed over me to the exclusion of anything else—loomed more than six feet up, in fact. His shadow, cast behind him by the torch he held, stretched endlessly and ominously along the wall.
For a moment we simply stood there, eyes locked, and the heat in his gaze traveled down and down, pooling in my cock and balls, and deeper. Gods, maybe my curse had started to affect me after all, because that tightening, twisting need felt like morethan simple lust for a handsome man. Iached, and Enzo hadn’t even touched me.
Not to mention the heat that had nothing at all to do with the chilly, damp stone corridors of this place, the throbbing in my temples…fuck, fuck, fuck.
If my curse had taken effect to the point of a low fever already, I might only have a few minutes before I lost any dignity or control. He had to fuck mequickly.
My hand shook as I opened the door, the latch rattling. Enzo didn’t say anything, thank the gods. It occurred to me to wonder if the same odd courtesy that had made him sit on the dais with me last night had prevented him from simply walking into my room without waiting to be invited.
Respecting the privacy of his prisoner? Quite possibly, given what I’d seen of him, and despite his other flaws.
He hadn’t taken me up on my offer to let him search my things, either—nor commented on the fact that he didn’t strictly need me to offer in the first place.
Ugh, I really detested the thought of not detesting him.
And there, I’d distracted myself again for a few precious seconds, but here I was, standing next to my bed—although given the size of the room, smaller than my dressing room at home, everywhere in the room was next to the bed. Enzo was behind me, shutting the door with a thud, putting the torch in the bracket, turning the key in the lock with a heavy click.
Earlier in the day, I hadn’t even thought to notice that the key was on the inside of the door. They hadn’t locked me into the other room they’d put me in, either, or done anything to me at all that smacked of cruelty. What if I’d been abducted and held for ransom by someone without Enzo’s scruples? Right now I might be begging someone truly sadistic to…a cold shudder ran down my spine, I squeezed my eyes shut, and a soft sound I couldn’t control spilled out of my lips.
“What’s wrong?” Enzo’s voice came from inches over my shoulder, and I yelped and started, lungs seizing up. Damn it. Why couldn’t he make a bit of noise when he moved? “I told you I won’t hurt you. As long as you’re gentle with me, too,” he added, an edge of laughter in his voice. “It’s been a while.”
I blinked, eyelids fluttering with the force of my pounding heart. “I’ll try not to break you,” I said, trying for a matching lightness to his, but my words coming out betrayingly breathy. “Fragile, delicate thing that you are.”
“Mmm,” he said, and this time he’d gotten close enough that the heat of his breath tickled the shell of my ear. Not to mention the heat of his body pressing all along my back now, with my ass, the part of me that stuck out the most, brushing tantalizingly against him.
But he hadn’t touched me! What was he waiting for, a formally signed and sealed declaration from the queen? I’d already agreed to this. Demanded it, even.
I could hardly breathe, my cock straining now, the muscles of my ass all tensed and trembling.
And then he touched me at last, hands firmly bracketing my hipbones, fingers digging into the sensitive softness in their hollows. My eyes slid shut as I melted back against him, and gods, I couldn’t possibly let him simply have his way with me. If I didn’t take the lead at least a bit, he’d think he could do whatever he wanted.
So going against every instinct I possessed, I wrenched myself out of his grasp and took two steps away. I’d cornered myself between the bed and the wall, with Enzo behind me, but at least I could take a breath. Which I did, sucking in air until I saw spots.
To give myself something to do while I got myself together, I slid off my coat and let it fall to the floor, took mytime untucking my shirt, and pulled that over my head, tossing it aside in the general direction of the chair.
I turned to find Enzo standing where I’d left him, face flushed and hands fisted at his sides.
There. Now he was almost as flustered as I was, and I’d evened the field a bit.
I smirked at him and fluttered my eyelashes to complete the effect, and then said, “Take off your pants.”
Enzo blinked at me. “I beg your pardon?”
“Your pants. You can’t exactly fuck me with them on, can you?” I glanced down pointedly, and—oh, good gods. I swallowed hard. “Your pants,” I said again, as if my mouth simply couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
Large cocks were always a pleasant surprise, although I’d enjoyed plenty of smaller ones, too. My own fell firmly (very firmly, I’d never had any trouble in that area) into the category of “medium.”
But unless Enzo had put one of those zucchinis we’d been discussing down the front of his trousers, he fell very,veryfirmly into a category I didn’t have a word for.
