Ryland's eyes went wide, and before he could push himself away, he was already pinned. Kethaias had been too close, and the clatter of the table, the dishes shattering across the floor among their contents, had surprised him too much to take advantage of the short lapse while Kethaias rolled over. There was a knee trapping his breath, and a hand on his throat. He swallowed against a rough palm, the calluses catching on the finer skin of his neck.<br/><br/>But there was no pressure, no real threat to himself, and once the thrill had shifted upward to maintain its high, Ryland could think again.<br/><br/><i>I. Do not.</i>Want.<i>You.</i><br/><br/>Ryland said, "Yes," his gaze flickering up behind yellow lashes, "you do."<br/><br/>One hand smoothed around Kethaias' forearm, tightening his grip as he did so. The other went back to his chest.<br/><br/>"I make no excuses for what I am. What are yours?" The smile he wore now was small, a curl at the edges, and yet stonier than before. "You stalk<i>every</i>kingdom as though you are its god. You threaten to<i>take me</i>past my objections. You took one look at me and desired me, and when you couldn't have me, you spoiled, monstrous child, you threw yourself into a sulk, wherein I am now assessing whether or not you may kill us all for such rejection. But you are angry at<i>me</i>for your own doing, for I have been clear from the beginning. I have forced your hand at nothing. You toy with yourself, because while I have made my intentions known, you tell yourself you could<i>take</i>more and yet cannot reconcile it to your supposedly just rule."<br/><br/>His thumb found the place on Kethaias' wrist, between tendons, that would send pain all the way up his arm if he chose to dig in.<br/><br/>"Fuck me, King. Work me out of your ravings. Bruise me for tempting you. I fully admit to wanting you. You are beautiful," he said, and his smile widened, "and vicious. But say the word, and I will bother you no more."