"You're shaking, Seraphine," he whispered, his lips ghosting over the pulse-point at my neck.
"I'm... I'm calculating the risks," I gasped, but my hands were already busy. I wound them into his damp hair, pulling his head back so I could see those lethal, dark eyes.
I crashed my lips against his. This wasn't a negotiation; it was a seizure of assets. The kiss was deep, desperate, and tasted of ancient stars. I felt his tongue trace the line of my teeth, a possessive claim that I met with an aggressive hunger of my own.
Malphas let out a guttural growl, his hands sliding up from my waist to pet the arch of my back, his long fingers tracing every vertebra with agonizing precision. Every touch sent a fresh wave of tingling sensation through me, centering in that heavy, demanding ache between my thighs.
