I let out a long, shaky exhale, and with every breath I took, I could smell the rich, warm scent of the wine we'd shared clinging to my own breath.
My fingers curled tighter around the back of his neck, pulling him just a fraction closer, and I tilted my head slowly backward, exposing the length of my throat to him, nodding in a dazed, hazy way. My mind felt soft around the edges, my limbs heavy and loose, every sensation blurred and amplified all at once.
A slow, knowing smirk curved Draven's lips as he pressed his mouth to the sensitive skin of my neck. He could feel it — the way I melted easier now, the way my responses grew lazy and unguarded, the flush burning deeper across my cheeks. I was getting tipsy, no doubt about it.
But then he pulled back just enough to look down into my eyes, and the hunger in his gaze softened into something steadier, more careful. His voice came low, rough but gentle, holding a quiet firmness that stopped my spinning thoughts.
