But I can't.
Can't stop kissing her. Can't stop touching her. Can't pull away from the heat of her body pressed against mine or the way she's clinging to me like I'm the only solid thing in her world.
I shift my grip, one hand splayed across her lower back, the other still braced against the wall. My wings flex behind me, instinctively curving forward to shield us from view even though the barrier I threw up already does that.
Protective. Possessive.
Mine.
The word echoes through me with every beat of my heart, every stroke of my tongue against hers.
Senna breaks the kiss first, gasping for air, and I press my forehead against hers. We're both breathing hard, chests heaving, and I can feel her pulse racing beneath my fingers where they rest against her throat.
"This is insane," she whispers.
"Yeah." I don't disagree.
"I barely know you."
"I know."
"But I don't want to stop." Her eyes search mine, vulnerable and honest in a way that makes my chest ache.
"Then don't." My voice is rough, scraped raw. "Don't stop."
She kisses me again, and this time it's slower. Deeper. Like she's trying to memorize me the same way I am her.
The bond hums beneath my skin like lightning about to strike.
Senna kisses me again and my magic surges—wild, untamed, crackling through my veins like I've lost all fucking control. I have to wrestle it back, force it down before it does something I can't take back. Before I mark her in ways that can't be undone.
Because that's what my magic wants. Wants to claim her so thoroughly that everyone will know she's mine. Wants to sink into her skin until there's no question, no doubt, no possibility of her walking away.
But I can't do that to her. Not when she's scared. Not when she barely knows what the hell is happening.
I'm trying—fuck, I'm trying to think rationally about this. To slow down and give her space to process what Serai just dropped on us.
But then Senna shifts against me, her hips rolling in a way that makes my cock throb, and rational thought flies right out of my head.
"Lorenth." My name is a whimper against my mouth, and her hands are everywhere. Sliding under my tunic, scratching down my chest, tugging at the fabric like she wants it gone.
"Wait." The word scrapes out of me even though it's the last thing I want to say. "Just—hold on."
She doesn't hold on. She grinds against me instead, her core pressed right against the hard length of my cock, and I groan into her mouth. She's destroying me. Unraveling every shred of control I have left.
I grab her hips, trying to still her movements, but she just makes this desperate sound and kisses me harder.
"Please," she breathes against my lips. "Please, I need?—"
"I know." I force myself to pull back enough to look at her, to see her face. "I know what you need. But we should slow down."
Her eyes are hooded, pupils blown wide, and her skin is flushed the most beautiful shade of pink. She looks wrecked already and I've barely touched her. The dress has slipped off one shoulder, revealing the curve of her collarbone, the soft skin of her neck where I can see her pulse hammering.
She's gorgeous. Absolutely fucking gorgeous.
And I want her so badly I can barely see straight.
"The food," I manage, my voice strained. "The wine. They're designed to enhance this. To lower inhibitions. You might not?—"
