I didn’t have time to let out the breath I was holding, for in the blink of an eye, I was up, and in but three of Mars’s mighty strides, I was down on the mattress with my husband on top of me.

He could not be believed!

With a great heave, I arched my back to displace him and opened my mouth to shout, only for him to claim it with his own, gliding in his studded tongue.

Of a sudden, I collapsed under him and felt like weeping.

His taste was nectar. His weight was heaven.

I tore my mouth from his, turning my head away.

His hand spanned the side of my face to pull me back, but I said, “If you do this, I’ll never forgive you. If you force yourself on me, my king, there will be no coming back.”

The atmosphere of the room lightened to such an extreme, it felt like the tent around us was falling to the earth.

“Force myself?” he whispered into my ear.

“You threatened it yesterday, and I could not fight you and win. I know that. I could not call out and have others come to my aid, for you are king and you can do as you wish. I know that too. But I would be lost to you in a way that could never be regained.”

“I did not threaten you with this, mia piccolina.”

I closed my eyes tight at the endearment and retorted, “You did.”

“I said I would not do that.”

I opened my eyes and told the side of the bed, “I would not think such a thing would even enter your mind to do. But obviously, since you mentioned it, it did.”

“Silence,” he called.

I stared at the silk of the side of the tent.

“Look at me, my queen,” he whispered.

It was then I realized his hand still spanned the side of my face, but now his thumb was coasting along the apple of my cheek comfortingly.

I turned my head to glare into his eyes.

He continued whispering when he vowed, “I would never, not ever do that to you, amore. It is not the basest man who engages in such behavior. It is a monster. You never have to fear that from me, Silence. Not…fucking…ever.”

I took in a shuddering breath and stared into eyes that were no longer ablaze.

They were liquid black.

“You are wanton,” he shared.

No longer relieved and pacified by his vow, I blinked in affront and snapped, “I am not.”

A small smile pulled at his mouth as he replied, “I have but to kiss you and you catch fire.”

This was, lamentably, true.

I decided not to comment.