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Taly wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting the first time a man touched her. Her fantasies had been all broad strokes, vague notions of pleasure. So, she was taken by surprise—completely overwhelmed by the heat of his hands. She’d never anticipated how his own body would tense in reaction to hers.

Vulnerable. Exposed. But there was also excitement and anticipation as his fingers stroked over the damp red lace barely covering her center.

Up.

Then down.

Then he pushed aside the lace, hissing at the wetness he found waiting for him, spreading it around.

“Someone’s eager.” He was breathless. One finger pressed into her. “Fuck.”

Taly let out a little whine. She could feel every scrape of roughness, every contour of bone as he pulled out to the tip.

One finger became two. She winced at the sudden fullness, and he went back to one.

“Sorry,” he said, exhaling hard. “I forgot. We need to limber you up first.”

She was utterly enveloped, his body above her and the bed beneath, her legs spread as that finger moved in and out. The sounds that came out of her were unplanned—little pants, squeals, and groans punctuated occasionally by a longer moan as his aether sparked.

This time, when he added a second finger, it wasn’t pain that had her gasping.

It was absolute ecstasy at the overwhelming fullness.

“See, Tink. I’ve got you.” His voice dipped lower. “I’ve always got you.”

Sweat slicked her skin as her head tipped back. She clung to him, fingers twisting in his hair, panting against his neck. She was nearing that peak—already reaching for it.

Then another spark of aether, right where she needed it. Her body arched, a bowstring pulled taut, every nerve singing with white fire. He followed her through to the end of it, pumping until she finally grabbed his hand to stop.

His fingers crooked inside her one last time, drawing out one last whimper before they withdrew.

Her breath came in quick, uneven pulls, her limbs boneless against the sheets. Above her, Skye watched, dark-eyed and utterly transfixed.

Something pulsed between them—a current she couldn’t name but felt humming along her skin, inside her chest, threading through the space between them.

Her mind was spinning, dizzy with want. She wanted to kiss him, to drag her hands over him, to learn him by breath and feel and sound.

She wanted to know what he looked like undone. She wanted to be the reason.

“Yes,” he whispered, low and rough.

She hadn’t spoken. She was sure of it. But the way he’d said it, like he’d heard her anyway…

He held himself above her. His back arched just enough to give her a view between their bodies. He pitched an impressive tent beneath black silk sleep pants, so thick, so hard that the broad crown had breached his waistband.

“Please.” He bit out the word. “I mean, I’m fine if you don’t, but… Shards, Tink, please.”

Taly wondered if any of those ladies at court had ever made the heir of Ghislain beg.

She reached for him, stopped. Swallowed. Then let her fingers skim across the head. They came away damp. Curious, she touched one to her tongue. The taste was salty. Strange. Not bad. Mostly, she liked the way his breath caught like she’d set fire to his lungs.

He didn’t speak—just looked at her like she’d done something irreversible. That look made her brave. Made her want to see what else she could do to him.

Every muscle in his body went taut as she finally mustered the courage to slip her hand beneath his waistband, wrapping her fingers around the long, hard—

A knock sounded from the front door of the attic apartment.

Taly snatched her hand away on instinct, like a nervous rabbit, easily spooked.