The invitation to be warmed had definite appeal, though he was not bothered by the chill of the air invading the tent.  And when Ryland did that warming, it was with his mouth alone, which successfully shifted the balance of propriety and teasing on its end.<br/><br/>Keth snagged the blond’s wrist, this time in a move that was too swift, too forceful for the current smooth, relaxed sense of play.  But tight as his grip was, it wasn’t cruel or angry.<i>Demanding?</i>It was every bit that.  It had been made very clear that Ryland enjoyed a bit of spice, particularly when the angry outburst earlier that day had done little to sway the man against intimacy.  In short, Kethaias was not worried in the least about frightening his royal escort away by showing a little tenacity.  In truth, it might’ve excited them both.<br/><br/>“What you need be is less clothed,” he stated, then proceeded to tug the smaller man into a better arrangement there under the tent in order to straddle over him.  Room was limited, but Keth managed to stay low enough, sitting himself back squarely on Ryland’s thighs and pressing either arm down to keep him safely pinned.  As if the prince would’ve argued his position.<br/><br/>“This would cause scandal,” he felt the need to comment, though there was no warning in his expression that he might find that a current issue to overcome.  In fact, his main focus was in relieving Ryland of his shirt, and most of his effort went into that endeavor.<br/><br/>Then another thought came to him, which he expressed in much the same way as the prior: with no concern.  “It feels almost like a well-played political trap.”<br/><br/>As soon as he had the unwanted fabric out of the way, his eyes were feasting on golden skin.  It was clear that he was pleased.  Some younger men of nobility were too soft, too feminine for his liking.  Ryland was not among them, which had been to Keth’s thoughts all along.  After all, he’d felt, here and there, that body as they had danced, as they had kissed in the carriage, and he had observed the way it moved under the burden of clothing.<br/><br/>“What an impressive lure to dangle in front of a hungry man, though,” he whispered, bending lower to steal a little kiss.  Then one of his hands eased up and relinquished its hold on Ryland’s arm.  It was repositioned in a more dangerous position around the man’s throat, but the hold was light, a mere ghost of the threatening attack he’d placed there earlier.  “And what now, now that I am ensnared?  I cannot be expected not to devour my prize.”