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I do, settling on the ground between him and his sister while the skull chalice makes its way from warrior to warrior.

Thus begin the tales of battle. At least, I think they are tales of battle. Soon after Memnon sits, his hand comes to my leg, and he strokes it absently. A line of his magic spills from him and slips down the collar of my shirt. I feel it brush my breasts before moving lower.

Much, much lower.

I bite back a gasp when it strokes my slit.

I grab the hand on my thigh and squeeze it hard.For the love of the gods, Memnon, I say down our bond,if you make me come during your war celebrations,I will make you come in front of your friends too.

Memnon glances over at me, a devious look in his eye, his power still caressing me.

Do you promise?

Don’t, I warn, giving him as menacing a look as possible.

His eyes come alive then, and his power, his godsdamned power, intensifies its ministrations, a portion of it slipping inside me.

Oh no.

I let out a ragged pant. I’m still half dead from battle, in a room full of warriors, and he thinks to continue teasing me?

I reach for my own magic to make good on my threat…and it’s not there.

I meet Memnon’s eyes right when the realization hits, and he grins.

Aren’t you going to punish me, my queen?he cajoles.

More of his magic plays with me, teasing me, testing me. Because he knows I cannot.

Sweet Elysium, Memnon.

Would you like some relief?he asks, his gaze darkening.I can feel the ache in you. We can do this in here if you’re really set on us coming in front of our friends, or we can leave…

I catch the whispered edge of his thoughts, most of which revolve around getting me on my back. But it’s hard to focus when his magic is so persistently touching me.

Katiari leans around me, her gaze fixed on Memnon. “Brother,” she says softly, “go bother someone besides your wife for once. I’d like to actually celebrate with her before your libido ruins it all.”

I don’t know how Katiari knows where Memnon’s mind is, but I am equal parts amused and embarrassed. And I would say as much, except it’s taking all my concentration to stifle the noises I want to make.

Memnon, the bastard, is biting back a smile. “I don’t think she wants me to bother anyone but her,” he says knowingly.

“I do,” I rasp out. “Pleasebother someone else for a bit.” I didn’t come here to promptly leave, and I’m beginning to sweat in my attempt to keep myself behaving appropriately.

“See?” Katiari says, quirking a smile. “Leave your wife alone.”

And take your magic with you, I add. It comes out as more of a plea than an actual command.

I can sense Memnon’s suppressed laughter and, beneath that, his own building desire.

“I will leave my wife alone—for a bit.” With his words, his magic blessedly stops tormenting me.

I exhale a ragged breath.

Memnon leans in.If you grow tired or wish to leave, say as much and I will take you home.

I give him a curious look.Was this all a plot to get me back in bed and resting?I ask him.

Back in bed? Yes. Resting? No.With that, he removes his hand and rises, moving to the other side of the circle and embracing a grizzled warrior.