I swallowed and put the cup down. Lifting my other hand to my hair, I pulled out the ribbon that held it in a ponytail at the nape of my neck. The fall of my hair drifting across my back was vague through the cashmere of my dress, but I still felt it sear through me, making my ni**les hard. So hard they were aching.
“Oh God,” I whispered, knowing something in that tea was making me feel this way.
But it was too late.
My hand at my belly moved down to cover the juncture of my legs.
Apollo was coming back at any moment, but I had to touch myself.
I had to.
Or better, find someone to touch me.
Oh yes.
Find someone to touch me.
It had been years. Years.
On that thought, I moved my hands to the sides of my skirts, clenched them into the material and pulled up.
A soft knock came at the door.
My eyes went to the door and my mind filled with Apollo in his turtleneck and breeches.
Especially those breeches.
Blood rushed to my br**sts and more wet saturated between my legs.
“Ils…Madeleine?” his deep voice sounded outside the door.
I was across the room in a flash.
I turned the lock, threw open the door and reached out a hand. I clenched it in his sweater and yanked him into the room.
“Bloody hell, what—?”
I knew I should stop. I knew it.
I just couldn’t.
I ran my hands over his sweater at his chest, the feel of the soft thick wool and the hint of hardness beneath it, swear to God, I nearly cl**axed on the spot.
My knees did get weak and I had to lean into him, my hand darting up and curling around the back of his neck.
I put pressure on and tipped my head back to see him looking across the room. I distractedly noticed he’d put a hand to my waist but his body was tight and unmoving as I unsuccessfully tried to pull his head down to me at the same time I pressed deep into his body.
Finally, what seemed like took years, his chin dipped and his unbelievable jade eyes looked into mine.
“Madeleine, my dove, did you drink that tea?” he asked gently, but his tone also sounded wary, urgent and alarmed.
“It’s delicious,” I whispered, going up on my toes, burrowing close to his body, putting more pressure on his neck, my other hand sliding down his chest with a specific aim.
He caught that wrist and yanked my hand back up his chest and pressed it there.
“Listen to me,” he said, now sounding only urgent.
“Okay,” I replied and successfully got my nose on his jaw.