What is happening?
Cassian shot up from the table. His legs wobbled as he put distance between them.
He had never been one to have lustful urges towards a pretty face alone. If feelings weren’t involved in the matter, he rarely gave them the time of day. He barely knew this woman.Logically, she was attractive, but he couldn’t make sense of the burning ball of need in his chest. The intensity beating in his blood, hot and pulsing up the sides of his neck?—
He lowered his hand to the spot she’d kissed. Raised, puffy skin met the tip of his fingers.
Nausea churned in his gut.
A spell.
“It seems you’ve had too much to drink.” She rose from the chair and trotted towards him.
He stumbled back until he hit the wall. His breath hitched. The cold surface overwhelmed his heated skin through the material of his waistcoat.
“I am fine,” he gritted out.
“Let me assist you.” Her hands came down on his chest and smoothed across his abdomen, an instant trigger of arousal he did not approve of.
“It is more pleasurable if you give into it.” She wedged her knee in between Cassian’s legs, gaining access to press her hips into his. The friction she created against his length filled his mind with a smog. It was like trudging through tar without escape.
He couldn’t teleport and risk revealing his identity to a mortal, and if he tried to cast an illusion in this state, he could potentially hurt her.
She nuzzled into the crook of his neck and drew circles along his skin with her tongue.
Cassian shuddered, the sensation rolling a sickness in his stomach. The blood beat thickly in his ears as he attempted to push himself off the wall and?—
The woman was thrown back.
A body forced itself between them. Its presence swift and sudden, blowing a sweet earthy gust up Cassian’s nose.
She staggered, tripping over her heels, and caught herself clumsily on the edge of a nearby table. Tendrils of her dark hair flapped in front of her mouth from her rapid breath.
She hooked her head up and her small features contorted with indignation, stained red lips curling up in a snarl. “Don’t you dare lay a hand on me?—”
Recognition stole the words from her mouth and melted the anger from her face.
“I suggest you find another man to cast your trickery on, lest you enjoy losing your tongue,” Finnian warned, his tone tight and impatient.
The woman dropped her chin in a frazzled apology and rushed past them towards the exit.
Cassian let his head fall back against the wall. A cold sweat broke out over his body. He pulled at the crisp collar of his waistcoat.
A gentle set of hands clutched his shoulders. The straining in his muscles eased momentarily.
“Are you alright?” Finnian asked, his voice soft, concerned.
He loved the way Finnian spoke to him, tender and slow. A constant silencing of the fluxing thoughts in his mind.
But it also made him become all too aware of the strong stream of warmth spreading down into his groin. The pinpricks of magic trapped in his bloodstream throbbed in response to his overwhelming desire.
Perverse fantasies flowered in the front of his mind—taking Finnian up against the wall, on the table, the bar, the floor.
He squeezed his hands into fists, as if he held onto the fraying thread of his self-control. “I need you to let go of me.”
Finnian studied him for a long second, eyes narrowing. He lifted his fingertips to the side of Cassian’s neck.
Tremors wracked down into his stomach. His breath rushed out but didn’t return.
