I opened my mouth against his and in the next breath, his tongue met mine. The contact wrecked me.
A soft, desperate sound escaped my throat as our tongues tangled, slow at first, then deeper, hotter, tasting each other like we were starving. His hand slid up my spine, fingers spreading wide as if he needed more of me, needed all of me.
And gods… I wanted more. I wanted everything.
His hands. His mouth. His body. His strength pressed into mine.
I wanted all of him, every forbidden inch, every spark of heat, every secret he never said aloud. The realization terrified me, but it didn’t stop me.
He kissed me harder, deeper, until I was drowning in him. I fisted my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as I arched into him, and a broken sound tore from his chest, raw and unrestrained. When my hips pressed against his, I felt him, all of him, hard for me, and the center of my body lit up like an electric current of anticipation. A soft, helpless moan slipped out of me.
I kissed him back just as fiercely, desperate to show him how much I wanted this, how much I wanted him.
His lips left mine only long enough to trail heat along my jaw and then, my neck.
My back arched instinctively, exposing more of my throat. His mouth closed over the
sensitive skin there, hot and claiming, and a shudder ripped through me. His hand on my back slid lower, pressing us together, guiding me with an urgency that nearly buckled my knees.
I moaned, an unguarded, needy sound I didn’t recognize as my own.
He breathed against my skin, low and reverent, like he was losing control.
“I want you, Thea Solenhart,” he whispered into my neck, voice shaking. “All of you.”
Then he captured my mouth again, devouring, desperate. Our tongues met once more, the kiss deepening into something molten and overwhelming. My fingers dug into his thick hair, his shoulders, anywhere I could hold on.
For a moment, there was no crown, no bloodlines, no rules, no danger. Just heat.
Just him.
Just the truth of what I felt when I touched him. And I wanted more. More heat. More closeness.
But reality found me like a blade. Cold, Sharp, Unforgiving
I tore myself away.
Our lips parted with a soft, wet gasp. His hands stayed on my back for a heartbeat, refusing the separation, then slowly fell away.
I stumbled back, chest heaving, skin burning, breath shaking.
He looked wrecked, hair mussed from my grip, lips swollen, silver eyes dark with something I couldn’t name.
Gods, that look almost pulled me right back into him.
“We… we can’t do this,” I whispered, the words breaking as they left me, stepping back slowly. “Lorik… stay away from me.”
Pain flickered across his expression, quick, raw, and immediately buried.
But he didn’t move toward me. He didn’t argue.
He didn’t reach for me.
He just stood there, breathing hard, looking at me like I had given him everything and then ripped it right out of his hands.
And gods help me.
I already missed his mouth. His hands.