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“And I want you to finish it.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, the final thread of his self-control snapped. He used the fastened hold on her nape to haul her forward and devour her lips. A collision of teeth and tangling of tongues. She arched her spine, pressing her breasts into his chest. As his hand trailed down her waist, she could feel the gentle pressure of his fingers guiding her, anchoring her against him.

Heat dripped like molten into the bottom of her belly and gathered between her legs.

As she ran her fingers through his hair, his hair tie unraveled. She gripped the ends of his strands with a greedy haste.

When the closeness wasn’t enough, she ran her palms over his shoulders, memorizing every curve and dip of his body. Solid and chilled beneath his shirt, like a slab of marble.

Ronin’s hand glided through her hair, his fingers expertly weaving against her scalp. Gently, he tilted her head back for better access, tracing her jawline with his lips and lingering behind her ear. His teeth playfully nipped at her earlobe, and a flicker of pleasure zapped down her middle.

She ground her hips against his in a tantalizing rhythm.

He ran the tip of his tongue along the sensitive skin behind her ear and down her neck. Hungry and impatient for more of him, she clenched her jaws tightly.

“Stop playing with me,” she said through a ragged breath.

Ronin chuckled, the sound reverberating in her chest and melting her insides.

He found the zipper of her dress.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stop?” His voice rumbled with a deep, gravelly timbre.

She wasted no time in unbuttoning his shirt, removing his arms from the sleeves, and tossing the bundle onto the floor. “Absolutely not.”

He responded by unzipping her dress and slipping the tattered piece of clothing down her torso. The material pooled at her waist and his eyes drifted across to her breasts.

She had never exposed herself with such vulnerability in front of another person before. She preferred darkness or even leaving her clothes on, but not once did it occur to her to hide in front of him. It satisfied her to watch desire burn in his gaze as it flickered up onto her face. The sight of it had her stomach somersaulting.

“Remove your glamor,” he commanded.

Ever since placing it before the Summer Solstice Festival, she had completely forgotten about it. It was for precautionary measures to avoid Ronin and other mortals growing suspicious of her divine appearance.

She let out a breath, and along with it, her glamor fell.

With his jaw tight, his heavy-lidded eyes drank in every part of her. In her entire existence, she’d never experienced the sensation of being revered as a goddess, like a precious gem in the eyes of mortals, as the middle and High Gods were. The power they were steeped in defined a deity’s beauty, and exposed in front of Ronin, she felt the most powerful of all.

“Just like I remember.” He lightly kissed the tops of her eyelids. “Your eyelashes.”

Her expression flattened, remembering how she’d made them a more natural color underneath her glamor. “I am naked, and my eyelashes are what you find captivating?”

She was already lifting herself up to undo his trousers. Ronin grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her back into place. Her mouth opened to protest, but he lifted his other arm slightly in the air. Employing his magic with a skilled flick of his wrist, he stripped away her dress and his pants, placing himself bare between her legs. The night’s events were also washed away from their skin.

Her head swam from the bundle of nerves exploding where his length touched her legs.

“Every part of you is stunning, Naia.” Ronin’s hands circled around the back of her thighs, and he hoisted her up.

Her back hit the cushion, and his arms pinned her down, palms planted beside her head on each side.

She gulped in a breath, and he punctuated his statement with a feral kiss. His tongue slid across her teeth, and the bitterness of his coffee filled her mouth. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pouring bits of herself into the kiss. Dizzy with the chaotic need to be closer to him; to dissolve and mix with his blood. She wanted to smell of jasmine and sage, the incense he burned in his home, and the fabric softener embedded in his clothes; to feel his frenzied fingers and the scrape of his teeth marking her skin.

“You should have been honest with me.” She hooked her legs around his waist.

His tongue explored her breasts, stopping to circle around her hardened nipple. “Right back at you, goddess.”

Naia whimpered, riding her hips against his length.

He intensified the pace of his tongue, eagerly caressing her other breast with his hand. Her lower abdomen throbbed with a frantic need for release.