Threads of Desire (Spellcraft) - By Stone, Eleri Page 0,2

ear. His scent filled her nose.

Rucking up her skirts until her ass was bare, he pinned the fabric to the wall with his fist. Her breath caught in her throat. Yes, this. This is what she’d imagined as she sat across from him these last torturous weeks. His hand, calloused and warm, stroked over her skin and she trembled. When his thumb split through the valley between her buttocks, her body instinctively tried to pull away. But there was nowhere to go. Her palms scraped against the mud-flecked stone and Kal was at her back, rough and demanding, greedy as she’d known he would be. His hips pressed forward, knocking her into the wall.

“So proud and rigid, but here—” his hand dipped lower, fingers slipping in her juices and sliding easily inside, “—you’re soft as any woman.”

He bit her earlobe and his fingers withdrew.

Despite herself, she pressed against him, but he was already gone. Stumbling back, she jerked her skirts down over her bare legs. By the time she swung around to face him, he was already at the mouth of the alley.

“Meet me at my villa at dusk.” A slash of sunlight gleamed on clean black hair. He glanced back at her and grinned. “I’m a civilized man, Ily. I don’t fuck whores in the back alleys of the Southton market.”

Chapter Two

She didn’t know why she’d come. Curiosity. Avarice. Desperation. Lust. None of them good reasons, yet here she was, sitting across from Kal in the courtyard of his home. Dining with him.

There was that. If nothing else, she had a free meal, a feast really, spread across a satin-draped low table. Crusty, soft-centered bread and platters of cold meat. Colored glass bowls filled with cut fruit and set in ice to keep the contents cool while they “discussed the particulars of their arrangement.” They’d yet to speak a word about their bargain, but her stomach was very full.

“Drink.”

He’d been pressing food and wine on her all evening. This was a dessert wine, the final course before the table was cleared. The goblet was hammered gold and beaded with condensation. Slowly, she lifted it to her lips, regarding him over the rim.

Arms outstretched, he leaned against the plush cushions, glittering eyes tracking the movement of the cup. They fixed on her mouth for a moment before lifting to her eyes. It was unnerving the way he looked at her, so openly appreciative and completely unashamed of his desire.

She took a tentative sip. Cool liquid. The light, sweet flavor exploded on her tongue. Ulla. She wanted to moan in appreciation but kept that reaction to herself. After all, his offering was a deliberate choice. His family’s extraordinary wealth came from the Ulla trade. The Azi family owned all of the vineyards that produced the rare grape. This was by far the finest wine she’d ever tasted, and a gentle reminder of who she was dealing with.

“We could dine like this every night, if you like.”

“I’m not joining your harem.”

He turned his head to hide a smile, flicked a tassel. “Harem,” he repeated with a small laugh. “Is that what you think?”

A ridiculous question. What else was she to think? His home was a palace. The courtyard garden alone could produce enough food to feed ten families, but there were only fragrant flowers in the beds opening now to the cool night air. His servants wore far finer clothes than she’d seen on anyone but him. What was she to him other than a plaything? A momentary curiosity. And she was only here to see if she could leverage that interest to her advantage.

He lounged on cushions while she knelt across from him with her hands folded in her lap. He’d invited her to join him on pillowed silk but she’d refused, preferring to keep the square food-laden table between them.

“I saw what you did,” he said. “For Seli. Calef would have taken his hand if he’d caught him stealing silver again.”

Calef would turn her out if he knew she’d sheltered the sticky-fingered little orphan. Her palms began to sweat, but she resisted the urge to wipe them dry. Instead, she lifted her chin and met his gaze. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Jas tossed Hekan’s booth looking for the rat, but he never thought to look beneath your skirts. A remarkable oversight, that. It would have been the first place I looked given the excuse.” He set his goblet on the low table, torchlight gleaming on the ebony