Po sucked on the inside of her cheek for a moment.
It was possible; therefore she would do this.
She would be naked. Po frowned. The man had spare clothes in his saddle bags. She could ride in men’s clothes for long enough to reach the town they’d passed at the bottom, among the foothills. The mayor would see who she was and summon aid.
She must be quiet, must not get too wet, or she would slip on the rocks. She placed the dry soap aside, stirred the water noisily as if she were washing, then waded across and into the crevice.
“Come around that corner,” she sang back over her shoulder, “And I will push you over the edge.”
“Ah! Now the murderous princess is revealed.”
“Asshole,” she muttered, surprising herself, as she’d never called anyone that, ever, out loud. “Asshole,” she repeated, just for the pleasure of letting it roll off her tongue.
Then she found her footing, calculated her route upward—she could see the lip of grass above, and began to climb. One step at a time, make sure the holds were secure…
And she must be quiet.
It was when only a few feet up that she heard a noise below as if water swirled. Po looked up for the next handhold and it was high, and she’d need to go up on tiptoe. Swiftly, she did so and stretched and reached.
A hand grabbed her lower ankle. “I thought you were too quiet.”
Damnation. She shut her eyes.
“Come down before I pull you down.”
“Let go of my ankle first.”
“Just do it. Now!”
How dare he threaten her. Anger rising, heart thudding, she descended, despite his grasp on her ankle, then on her thigh, then on her hip as she reached bottom.
“And what a view that was.”
He sounded so self-satisfied that she turned to slap him, only to find her wrist smacking into his hand as she swung.
“So predictable, Princess.” Grinning, he pressed her into the smooth face of the rock, holding her already captured hand high above then catching her other hand and yanking it up there too, gathering them both under one fist.
By then she was panting from all the exercise and her annoyance at being caught and pinned so indiscreetly—which made her chest heave even more. Which made him look at her there, his eyes settling on her breasts then languidly travelling lower and stopping again at her sex. His eyebrows rose, as if he were startled. Her maids regularly waxed her there into a slim V.
“How dare you!” she spat.
He met her gaze. “I dare because you are the cause of Xander’s kidnapping, with your dabbling in pirate shares and eggplant stocks. I dare because you lied to me and tried to run.”
“I never said I wouldn’t!”
“No?”
“No! You disgusting—”
He covered her mouth with his palm, muffling the rest of her words. Then, then he leaned in closer and stared directly into her eyes.
“I’m going to tie you up again and then soap you too, rinse you off. I think a clean princess can be achieved quickly. And if you protest too much, I will fuck you here and now.”
Oh. She froze and found herself staring back, and that horribly familiar heat rose in her, spreading until she was sure her entire skin had flushed red.
John slid away his hand. “Well, well,” he said softly. “That worked.”
Then he leaned in even further and placed his mouth close to hers, their lips merely brushing.
She shut her eyes. It was too much. Him so close, her body doing things it should not. To say he would fuck her was atrociously rude, and yet, here she was almost wishing for it to happen.
“What do you say to that?”
She snapped open her eyes at the subtle movement of his lips on hers.
“You’re a bad man,” she managed, after a syrup-thick moment where even thoughts refused to do her bidding.
“I am.” He nodded slightly and again his lips moved on hers.
Swallowing, she parted her lips. Involuntary, she told herself.
That was not me.
He pressed no harder, but he breathed on her, and the heat of his body transferred to hers in some strange magic… or merely the conduction of heat through air. He kept watching her, as if fascinated.
Go away, she willed him, silently. Po was appalled by her desires. The mounting ache between her legs urged her to thrust herself forward and squirm against him.
His tongue tip moved, pushed ever so slowly at her parted mouth and she opened some more, almost moaning. Well, she may have moaned a teensy bit, but hopefully it was inaudible.
His tongue stayed there, barely inside her, and she had to make herself not respond. Though below was being disobedient.
“What a good princess you are.”
Then he kissed her, softly, quietly, with no fanfare, and pulled away, leaving her wondering if she would slip to the rocky floor if her hands weren’t fastened above.
“See how easy that was. Was I not kind?”
“You are an asshole,” she muttered, struggling to breathe without looking like she’d been running, or… molested.
John chuckled. “Thank you for the excuse.”
He spun her and tied her hands at her back, using rope, cinched it tight enough that she knew she wouldn’t get free.
Now that was interesting. As in the forest, it shut down her willingness to do anything except be handled. He sat her in the middle of the pool and soaped her, all over, in places she was sure his hands should not go, even if
