Seth’s old couches were still in the bakery. He shoved two together and dragged chairs to the end so his legs wouldn’t hang off. It was a pathetic excuse for a bed.
But when the wind began to howl and rain lashed hard against the windows, rattling the panes with sharp, metallic insistence, he was glad he’d stayed.
To keep her safe.
Sleep took him faster than expected—a heavy, dark weight.
He was halfway lost in a dream involving Sylvie’s exploratory hands and the scent of vanilla when he felt a shift of weight beside him.
For a second, he wasn’t sure if he was still dreaming.
Sylvie was kneeling next to him on the floor.
Thunder rolled overhead, and Rhavor woke instantly. He shoved himself up and swung his legs over the side.
“Sylvie.”
Her voice was soft in the dark—velvet and way too close for his peace of mind. “The storm woke me. I couldn’t sleep.”
He opened his mouth to tell her to go back upstairs.
She cut him off.
“Before you say anything—the potion wore off. I’m sober, and I know exactly what I’m doing.”
She settled between his knees. Her fingers traced the sharp, dangerous line of his hip.
Then dipped lower.
Slow. Intentional.
“Sylvie…” His voice came out rough.
“You’re playing with fire,” he growled under his breath as she unbuckled his belt and slid her hand toward the zipper of his jeans.
She leaned closer, her scent and warmth radiating off her in waves.
“How about I want a little heat?” she whispered, her lips brushing his.
He watched her, his breath hitching as she yanked his trousers down, taking the boxers with them in one steady motion.
His cock sprang free immediately, thick and heavy, slapping against his abdomen with a meaty thud. It stood rigid, erected from his dreamy fantasy. The shaft was a deep amber gold, scaled in places that caught the dim light, tapering to a pointed tip that flared wide at the head. It was already glistening. The veins ran prominent, pulsing in time with his heart, and those draconic ridges spiraled along the length—designed to lock and pleasure.
In the dark, Rhavor could see her expression—a delicious mix of awe and hunger.
“Gods, you’re… magnificent,” she murmured, her voice husky and low. Her full lips parted.
He watched as she settled between his knees. The move made his balls tighten, heavy and full.
He reached out, cupping the back of her head, his fingers threading through those thick, silk waves.
“Sylvie, if you start this…” His words trailed off into a rumble, a deep, predatory sound that echoed the thunder outside.
“Then finish it with me,” she challenged.
The first wet swipe made him buck, a jagged bolt of electricity straight to his core.
“Easy, big boy,” she teased, her voice vibrating against his sensitive skin as she licked a slow, agonizing path along one ridge.
