"You ate my egg," the Bandit Queen smirked.
Her hand, which had been resting on his chest, slid lower. Her cold and smooth skin brushed over his torn shirt.
Leo tried to shrug, but it was difficult when hanging from the ceiling by those chains. He had still not been able to figure out what metal it was.
"Egg?" Leo asked, his face a picture of innocence, "Look at the time. I don't eat egg for dinner."
"Though I did have a lovely goat steak earlier. Maybe I can intrigue you with some of it."
Belladonna ignored his attempt deflection. She stepped closer so that he could smell the faint smell of hers. It felt like rose.
Her hand continued its descent, trailing over his stomach muscles, which tightened involuntarily under her touch. She stopped right at his navel.
She pressed her palm flat against his abdomen.
"It is here," she whispered, her eyes losing focus as she felt his warm skin, "I can feel the pulse."
