The Taming

Mesmerized by Her

He hardly noticed he was holding his breath.

He could barely recall another instance where she had come into his arms so willingly.

Her hands now worked into his sleeves, trailing her palm warmly on the sinews of his arms. She slid them down his arms to reach the cuffs. Hooking them with lifted fingers and drawing them down of his arms. Pulling it over his head and tossing it in the blue chair before clasping his forearms and pulling them around her hips as she dragged him. Walking backward out of the library and up the stairs. Blue gaze captivating him.

Stripping me? Kissing me?

This isn't what it seems. He warned himself as his hand landed on the railing. His other forearm clutched in her fists. He was trying to tell himself it was a trap. His rational brain warning him of all kinds of dark scenarios she might be enacting.

She's angry with me. She's going to do something awful.

Probably try to get away. Still, he found himself stepping hypnotically after her.

But his body and heart trusted her.

Oh, I'm too far in. I'm going to find out where this is going... He certainly wasn't going to stop it now.

So, he followed. Dutifully.

"You have me wrapped about your pretty finger, you know that?" His hand slid along the railing as he took the steps, in pace with her.

***

"If I did, you'd give me whatever I wished."

I would...If I were strong enough...

"Anything but your freedom. I could no longer bear this place, without you in it." He admitted.

"You did for centuries."

And it was utter hopelessness.

"But after having you here, I couldn't live with the silence anymore."

"Your brethren are always here."

It's not the same.

"They're not you." He murmured. Hearing the weariness in his own voice.

"You're right. They cannot do this." She led him to his chamber and kicked the door closed.

Do what?

"What are you going to do to me, Els?"

Knock me unconscious? Gut me? He was bone tired. Too exhausted to fight.

She set him on the edge of his bed and gently pulled off his boots.

Taking off my boots?

Am I passed out drunk somewhere, dreaming?

"What are you doing woman?" His voice rose.

She's doing much kneeling before me. And despite all his weariness, at least a piece of his body refused to participate in the utter dilapidation of the rest of him. Responding avidly to what she was doing. Stretching the front of his breeches.

Damn you for a fool. He glared at his lap. Hands resting along his thighs. Trying to resist touching her. Afraid if he got too aggressive, she'd shut down.

And stop.

He hoped she'd not notice his eager response to her nearness. Doing everything but what I wish she was.

She lifted her head from his boots and a faint smiled tugged a corner of her mouth.

She knows.