“Then stop.”
His mouth finds the curve of my neck, and my knees almost buckle. Heat floods through me, drowning out everything except the press of his lips, the scrape of teeth that should terrify me but doesn’t.
In the mirror, I watch my reflection arch against him. Watch silver mist spill from my fingers, reaching for him like it’s been starving.
It has been. I have been.
He turns me from the mirror, and for the first time I see his face fully. Beautiful in a way that makes my chest ache. Dark hair, sharp features, eyes that hold centuries of knowing exactly what he wants.
And right now, he wants me.
“Please—” The word slips out before I can stop it.
He smiles, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“Finally.”
His mouth captures mine, and the world disappears.
The kiss is everything—desperate and consuming and perfect. He tastes like power and promises, like all the things I’ve been too afraid to want. When his tongue slides against mine, electricity shoots down my spine and settles low in my belly.
My hands fist in his shirt, pulling him closer. I can’t get close enough. Can’t breathe around the want that’s consuming me from the inside out.
He breaks the kiss, and I actually whimper at the loss.
“Shh,” he soothes, hands framing my face. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The cushions appear without my noticing—soft and dark, spread across the stone floor like an altar. He guides me down, and I go willingly. Let him position me exactly where he wants me.
When he raises my wrists above my head, crossing them, something cool slides around them. I should panic. Should fight. Instead, I test the bonds and find them like silk—holding me but not hurting. Comforting in their certainty.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, and the word goes straight through me. “Do you feel it? How right this is?”
I do. God help me, I do.
His hands map my body through the silk—tracing curves, finding places that make me gasp and arch. Every touch sends lightning through my veins, and my Ether responds, silver mist curling around us both.
“More,” I breathe, and I’m not sure if I’m talking to him or to the magic.
He obliges.
His mouth follows where his hands led—pressing kisses to my throat, my collarbone, the swell of my breasts through silk. When he finds a particularly sensitive spot, I cry out, and the sound echoes off stone walls.
The silk slides away like water, leaving me bare and wanting. He takes his time looking at me, and under his gaze I feel powerful. Desired. Chosen.
“Perfect,” he says, and it sounds like worship.
When his mouth closes around my nipple, my back arches off the cushions. Pleasure shoots straight to my core, and the bonds around my wrists tighten just enough to remind me I’m his. That I chose this. Chose him.
His hand slides between my thighs, finding me already slick and ready. I moan when he touches me, really touches me, fingers sliding through wetness to find the bundle of nerves that makes my whole body sing.
“So responsive,” he murmurs against my skin. “So perfect for me.”
He builds me up slowly, expertly, until I’m writhing against his hand and begging for more. When he finally slides a finger inside me, I nearly come apart.
“That’s it,” he encourages, adding a second finger. “Let go for me.”
I can’t hold back anymore. Can’t think past the pleasure building inside me like a storm. When my climax crashes over me, silver Ether explodes from my skin, flooding the chamber with light.
