Then she bent her head, lips ghosting over the tip of him. Eric ran his hand through her hair automatically. He couldn't let himself dwell on Sera—not now. But the ache for her lingered, a dull, constant thrum beneath the sharper pull of lust.
He cupped her breast, twisting her nipple between his fingers, feeling the rise and fall of her chest beneath his hand. Every sound she made—the little gasp, the moan, the hum—stroked his cock, twisting his restraint tighter and tighter.
When she took him fully into her mouth, a sharp grunt escaped him, unbidden, his body surging. The pressure of her lips, the warmth, the teasing rhythm—it should have felt forbidden.
Eric's head fell back, jaw tight, accepting the unwanted pleasure.
He reached inside his mind for Ravok. "Come on," he muttered inside, to no one but the voice that ruled half of him. "We gotta do this."
Ravok's response was a quiet, exasperated huff.
