Ryland laughed, the silk pressing at his throat. He tilted his chin up, giving Kethaias a view of the long, elegant column of his neck, defiance and offering all at once.<br/><br/>"You doubt my prowess, with my experience? When they write<i>poetry </i>about my seductions in the teahouses?" He raised an eyebrow. "Or is it you, Emperor-King," he said--and since his hands were free, he made no move to the silk, but let his hands trail down Kethaias' chest--"who is afraid to let me go?"<br/><br/>Then he shaped his hands up, through the bracket of Kethaias' arms, up to where he could cup Kethaias' jaws with both hands, one thumb stroking over Kethaias' bottom lip.<br/><br/>"Or perhaps I should show you how tricky a fox can be? Maybe I should make<i>you </i>taste<i>me</i>. Would you like that, Kethaias?" He made his voice dip, the name husky in his throat, like smoke in his mouth. "Do you want me writhing here? Would you kiss me after, and let me taste my own salt?"<br/><br/>He brought his thumb back to swipe over his own bottom lip, and followed it with his tongue.<br/><br/>Kethaias' gaze darkened immediately, and Ryland let out a pleased laugh.<br/><br/>And, well, if he was going to stay pinned by the silk, which required both of Kethaias' hands...<br/><br/>He delved low again, undoing the buttons of Kethaias' trousers with the sort of swiftness that spoke of great experience. Another laugh as Kethaias looked down, and Ryland was already drawing out his cock, returning one hand to his mouth to lick his fingers.<br/><br/>"Better decide quickly. I'm not very patient."