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His voice is possessive and tinged with masculine desire.

I swallow hard, unable to take my eyes from him. “So what if I want you?”

Heat flashes in the copper depths. “I want you to say that again, Nia.”

“I want you,” I whisper.

He lightly strokes my skin, but he hesitates like he’s savoring the moment, drinking in the magic power of my words. Feeding off them.

He drags my dress around my waist, baring my thighs to the cold forest air. The breeze caresses my bare skin, and every nerve in my body lights up with anticipation.

I’m at his mercy. And I like it.

He tucks the long hem behind the small of my back, trapping it between me and the tree, leaving me exposed. His hand shifts around my throat, his thumb pressing lightly, a gentle, silent reminder of his control. With his free hand, he toys with the lace trim of my underwear. Light as a feather, his knuckles graze the silk with strokes that are both incendiary and excruciating.

My breath shudders, and my nipples tighten, my breasts aching for him.

His knuckles trace a light path over my clit through my undergarments, and I gasp, each brush of his fingers sending fresh waves of heat pooling between my legs. He’s scarcely touched me, and I’m ready to strip off my panties and beg him to continue. He knowsexactlyhow much control he has over me, and he revels in it, savoring my response.

My eyes flutter shut, and I tilt back my head against the tree.

“Look at me, Nia,” he says in a rough whisper.

Breathing heavily, I open my eyes and stare into his copper-ringed depths. His fingers slip under the silk, and he lets out a soft groan as he glides over my slickness. I gasp, pleasure coiling inside me, tension building to a breaking point. My hips move against his touch, seeking more.

He slides my underwear down my thighs, exposing me completely. “I’ve been wanting to strip you naked and watch you come since the night you first insulted me, Nia.”

As he slides his fingers inside me, I moan, but his breath falters, too. His breath is warm against my cheek, and he inhales my scent. “You make it hard for me to keep my control because I want to fuck you until you scream my name to the skies. But Idon’t think you’re telling me everything, are you? And I need you to tell me everything.”

Oh, gods, not now. My hips move against him as he brings me closer to a climax, so close to going over the edge?—

And then he stops. His fingers slide out of me, and I groan with frustration.

His gaze sharpens. “The thing is, I don’t really believe you’re stupid enough to come here just to have fun with Lumos.”

My breathing is ragged and desperate, my body throbbing with need. I reach for his neck and pull his face closer to mine. “What do you want?”

His eyes burn into mine, and his fingers twitch against my skin like he’s battling something inside himself. His thumb brushes against my lower lip, and for just a second, his expression is almost reverent. Then he masters his control again, and it’s gone.

“You need to stop lying to me.”

Slowly, I catch my breath, not wanting to release his hair. He gazes at me, his eyes heavy-lidded.

He lifts his hand to my cheek, his face close to mine. “I want the truth from you. It’s not all I want from you—not even close. But it will do for now.”

“You’re a real prick, do you know that?”

“So I’ve been told.”

“The rumors about you are true. You really do torture people, just not exactly how they say.” A heated flush has spread through my body, and I catch my breath. I pull my underwear back into place and let my dress fall, trying to compose myself after he made me nearly lose my mind.

“I’m aware,” he murmurs. “But do you know what else I know? You are frighteningly clever, and there’s no way you’d ride all the way to Arwenna’s castle just for fun. You also pressyour lips together when there’s something you don’t want to reveal. Now tell me, what the fuck are you really doing out here?”

His gaze pierces me like a blade, and I fear that he already knows my secrets, as if I were never truly hiding from him at all.

My pulse pounds in my ears, my body aching and my mind still reeling. How the hell am I supposed to think straight after that? But I’m sure that was the point.

I grit my teeth. It’s what Meriadec always said, isn’t it? Stick as close to the truth as possible, or you’ll fuck everything up.