"I hope our athletic escapades haven’t caused you any discomfort."
"You would have heard me complaining if they had."
He raised an eyebrow. "So you would have no objections if we continued said escapades in the bath?"
"Why would you want to do that when I apparently resemble a prune?"
He grinned. "Did I ever mention that I’m rather fond of prunes?"
I laughed and held his glass as he stepped into the bath and sat down at the opposite end, his long legs stretching out to either side of mine. I handed him back his champagne, and he took a sip.
"What," he said, his eyes twinkling with devilry, "would you give me if I said I knew of a way to block whatever tracer magic the Raziq have placed on that book?"
"Ah," I said, putting my glass down on the bath ledge. "For that, I might just be willing to be late for work."
"How late?" he asked, the devilry vying with desire.
I shifted position and slid up his wet, warm body, my hands on either side of him. "Very, very late," I murmured, as my lips met his.
For the longest time there was no more talking, only enjoying. When I finally straddled him, pushing him slowly—teasingly—deep into my body, we both groaned in delight. I began to move, slowly at first, then with mounting urgency, until desire burned, and all I wanted to do was reach that peak and shatter into a million pieces.
Then I did, and he did, and it was glorious. Oh, so glorious.
I rested my head against his shoulder for several minutes, breathing heavily and feeling completely—wonderfully—boneless.
Then he sighed, took my face between his palms, and kissed me gently. "You need to construct a void."
I blinked. "What?"