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He sucked in a breath just as I gasped. Gods, he felt so good. But he was no longer moving, just cupping me, holding me. I arched my back, needing him to do more. But he was still, waiting. Waiting for me. For permission.

“Lyriana,” he said. His breath was heavy and uneven, his hands hot enough to brand me. I reached behind me and gripped the back of his neck, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His chest heaved against my back. His fingers pressed into my flesh, and my nipples felt almost too sensitive against his palms. “Gods. You’re perfect,” he murmured. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No. I want you.”

“Want me to what?” he asked.

“Touch me.”

Rhyan moaned. His mouth was on my shoulder as he pressed his body against mine, thumbs brushing against my nipples through my dress. I cried out. He kneaded my breasts, his mouth hot on my neck and kissing its way up, his tongue flicking against my skin and sending shivers down my spine. I turned toward him just as his lips sought mine. The instant our mouths made contact, his felt like a searing brand. There was no softness like the last time, no tentative start. We weren’t dancing around each other anymore. We’d made our choice.

His tongue swept across my mouth, opening me to him, lighting me on fire. I lost control, biting his lower lip, groaning. His own groan answered mine, as he tasted my lips, one hand rising to cup my chin and tangle in my hair.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue wrapping around mine as he continued to squeeze and caress my breasts, drawing ripples of pleasure down to a rising surge between my legs.

I turned in his arms, straddling his lap. He held my hips, helping me turn, the kiss unbroken. He cupped my chin, angling my face, sliding his hand through my hair to the back of my neck, undoing the clasp of the necklace. I felt its weight immediately release from my shoulders as he set it on the ground. I tangled my fingers in his soft waves, brushing them back from his face, kissing my way across his jaw and cheek, desperate to drink in as much of him as I could.

Without breaking the kiss, he lowered me to the ground, pushing the straps of my dress off my shoulders. I grabbed his belt, pulling him down on top of me. As he settled himself between my legs, I tore open his jacket, sliding my hands inside to push it off his shoulders. He pulled back just long enough to toss it aside while I furiously tugged up his shirt from his belt and slid my hands up his bare back, over his blood oaths and tattoo. His hands slid down my legs, sliding my dress higher and higher, our hips pressing together in a frenzy.

I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t stop touching him, kissing him, pressing against him. I felt half-mad, like I’d claw through his skin just to get closer.

He trailed kisses down my neck, nipping and licking until his face was buried between my breasts, where he pressed soft kisses over my heart that left me shuddering. Then he lifted himself up and gently, reverently pulled my straps down my arms, baring my breasts. His jaw tightened. My hands tangled in his hair as his mouth replaced his hands on my bared skin, and he sucked deeply, drawing a hardened nipple between his lips, pausing only long enough to look up at me, eyes hooded and drunk with desire.

He closed his mouth over me again, and I arched and writhed beneath him, pulling at the hair at the nape of his neck.

Waves of pleasure washed through me, ebbing and flowing again and again. I was burning, sinking, floating, and flying.

“Do you know how much I love your breasts?” he asked.

“I thought,” I gasped, “I thought you hadn’t seen them.”

After I’d slept in his bed, topless after being lashed, I’d accidentally let the blanket slip in the morning, and he’d sworn he hadn’t seen anything at the time.

He smiled wickedly against my skin before closing his mouth around my other nipple, kneading the first between his thumb and finger. I bucked, the sensations almost too much—too much coming from him.

“Do you want to know a secret?” he asked.

“Mmmhmmm.”

“I’m a terrible liar.”

I started to laugh before he lifted himself up and claimed my mouth again, and the frenzy started anew, like I needed to kiss him to breathe.

Rhyan growled low in his throat, as I reached for his belt, this time to remove it. My fingers worked furiously to undo the buckle until at last, I unclasped it, and the belt slid off his hips and fell to the ground with a clang.

“Lyr,” he gasped.

The door slammed open.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Rhyanshotacrossthefloor so fast, he crashed against a table full of scrolls. With a small rumble, they fell to the ground, rolling beside him as I turned away, fiddling with my dress to cover myself. The straps of the dress wouldn’t rise. I was able to get the material up enough to cover my nipples, but that was it. No one who saw us could doubt for a second what we’d been in the middle of doing, what we’d been furiously on our way to doing.

The door closed and footsteps sounded.

I turned slowly, willing my eyes to stay open. Heart pounding as dread became a living body inside me, my eyes made contact with our intruder.

A grin, more sinister than any I’d ever seen, spread across Mercurial’s face. His eyes darted from Rhyan, sitting on the floor with his shirt half open and untucked and his buckle on the ground, to me and my nearly fully exposed breasts. He laughed.