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“Intoxicating witch,” he breathes, “you’re a vision.”

As is he, bound beneath me, though I don’t say this. I’m too busy enjoying the sensation of my core stretching around him.

“Gods, yes, my queen,” he says, reverting to Sarmatian. “You take me so well.”

I feel myself tighten around him, and he hisses out a breath, his hips reflexively jerking up against mine. I moan as he buries the last of himself in me, and I’m unprepared for the overwhelming feeling of having him fully seated in me.

I lean forward, breathing through the sharp, tight sensation.

Memnon gazes down the line of his body at me. “Are you all right?” he says, concern wrinkling his brow.

Your massive dick almost killed me, but I’m fine.

I don’t mean to actually pass that thought along, but then I see his features relax a little. The corners of Memnon’s mouth quirk.Wait for your orgasm. If it doesn’t deliver you to the gods for a moment or two then, I’ll have to do it over again.

The painful tightness dissolves away as my body adjusts to him, and I grind against Memnon a little, testing out whether I’m good.

His manacles clink again, and I see his arms strain against the bonds as he throws his head back for a moment, exhaling a ragged breath. “This is the sweetest torment, little witch.”

The sight of him truly at my mercy now emboldens me. I place a hand on his chest and lift myself off his cock until only the tip remains in me. Then I sink back down.

Again the chains rattle and Memnon’s muscles strain. Ilikethat reaction.

I do it again and again and again.

Memnon groans. “My lovely, wicked mate. I was wrong earlier. This issimplytorment.”

“Good,” I say. “You deserve to be tormented.” I find a rhythm and stick to it. The sorcerer’s hips move in time with mine, meeting me thrust for thrust until I’m gasping and moaning.

I look at the sorcerer’s face, and my heart feels like it’s caving in, and my lungs can’t quite draw in enough air.

I cup the side of his face.Beloved. I remember when he was beloved by me. I can feel the emotion right there, waiting to sweep back in.

He doesn’t have to be my enemy. He doesn’t have to even be just my friend. We could have what we once did.

I lean forward and kiss Memnon again, my hand moving from his cheek. I’m torn. So torn. I want to let go. I’m scared to do so. I’m not sure I'll have a choice soon.

The manacles clang and the headboard knocks against the wall, and then I feel Memnon’s arms wrap around me even as he continues to kiss me.

I flick my eyes to the headboard, where the now empty manacles hang limply against Memnon’s belt.

“I’m sorry,est amage,” he breathes, breaking off the kiss. “I wanted to be a good captive. I did. But after two thousand years apart, I have grown greedy.”

With that, he flips us so I’m beneath him, and now he’s setting the pace, his cock driving into me harder and harder, the action making slick, wet sounds.

I gasp out a breath, not just because the change in tempo is rapidly driving me toward an orgasm. Pinned beneath him like this, I’m not in control. Not unless I command him, and my heart’s not interested in that.

Instead, I stare up at him, feeling lighter than air, afraid I might fall. Terrified he’ll notice and make it happen.

So I force my eyes away and rake my nails up his back, focusing my attention on where the two of us are joined.

“Love your pussy most when it’s stretched around me like this,” he says. “I can feel it fluttering.”

Memnon grinds himself against me, swiveling his hips in a figure eight motion.

I gasp at the sensation, nearly going boneless.

When I meet his eyes, he flashes me a wicked look. “There are perks to my knowing your body as well as I do.”