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Garrik’s throat worked before he released a deep groan, and Alora filled with hot need. Her thoughts collecting around what that sound would feel like. She wanted to kiss that, too.

“You are—mmm,” he groaned when she kissed that hardened lump … when her hand planted on his chest and curled into the fabric to refrain from touching his hardened length.

Garrik’s hand enveloped hers, trembling as if he were bound to pull her away.

But didn’t.

“You are so warm.”

With his hand on hers, she stretched the fabric, lowering Garrik’s collar to kiss a long line down the column of his throat.

“I did not bring you here because I wanted something from you.”

Feeling the whispered words as he grunted, her lips brushed down, passed the hollow dip below his throat, kissing the muscle swelled at his chest. “I know,” she breathed. “Do you want me to stop?”

Garrik’s legs widened slightly. His trembling hand stilled her movement in a claiming grip, denying her exploration beneath his chest. He was still holding her back, she realized. Permitting her no closer than just inside his knees. Only, she couldn’t decide who he held back for—himself? Or her?

“No,” Garrik groaned.

Alora’s hand splayed up into his hair, pulling the fabric of his shirt to draw him near. And when the warmth of her lips grazed against the ice of his, he didn’t pull away.

He met her with a slow—soul-crushing—kiss. The taste of him, warm vanilla and oak, enveloped her every sense. Garrik’s lips met her stroke for stroke. Unrushed. Unhurried. Kissing her as if the world was ending in ice-storms and starflames and the only salvation was her lips.

Kissing her like he’d never want to forget.

And then it was her body against his and those incredible, powerful hands wrinkling the fabric of her shirt as he roamed her back. His other fell from her hand and gripped her thigh, and drifting over his leg to rest a knee on the chair, she offered him access to it.

Garrik moaned against her lips. “You have no idea how badly I want to take you to that bed and fuck you till dawn.”

Alora could hardly think past his words.

Sex. Sex with the High Prince of Elysian.With Garrik.

His powerful, sinful body on her. Feeling every inch of hardened muscle moving as he thrustinsideher. Long. Deep strokes. Drawing out every strangled cry and pleasured scream from her lips—so loud the stars would rattle. To feel a pleasure she hadn’t known and knew Garrik could fulfill beyond what the world could imagine.

Stars.The overwhelming need spurred by lust alone surged through her veins like an unstoppable inferno.

Garrik opened his mouth to speak, but it was far too late. Alora’s lips crashed into his, diving her tongue inside his mouth, which he accepted. Sucking her inside to tangle hers with his own.

He jerked against the headrest the moment she stroked the curve of his ear and the sensitive nerves there. Eyes so wide, thewhites glowed. Garrik’s body stiffened entirely, gaping at her as if too stunned to speak.

And she stroked again.

Garrik’s chin lifted. His hips did too.

And again.

She knew he had lost all sense of his own control.

Kaine never allowed her to touch his ears—she never knew why. And feeling Garrik’s reaction, it was evident. Kaine would never have allowed his dominance to be manipulated like this. Not like how Garrik surrendered himself to her will.

Every stroke of her finger seemed to shatter him more and more. Playing with that sensitive spot that had his body quivering and his breath shuddering.

Another stroke had his hands sinking into the armrests, almost piercing the leather with his nails.

“Alora?” he called, seemingly unsure of where he was from the pleasure.

She answered with a taste of her lips.