The soft pressure of her lips beneath his was maddening.
She was responding to his every touch, meeting him with a fire that matched his.
Was this really happening?
They moved together until she backed against the wall.
Her hands ran over his chest, his face, his hair. He could feel their warmth through the fabric of his clothes.
No one would interrupt them this time. He had taken extra care to make sure of that.
Whatever would happen would happen.
No Andon. No blasted inkwell. No guards. No blood moon. No maids. No promiscuous uncle. No bride-to-be. No one would disturb him.
She tasted like fruit sauce and cheese… and something uniquely hers. The warm and welcoming velvet of her mouth made his pulse run wild. Her breathing was ragged. Her heartbeat was galloping in her chest - he could feel it as he pressed her against the wall.
Yeren reached down and lifted her up, pinning her such that they were on the same level.
