Skies have mercy.
I swear low under my breath, hands tightening around her waist. My eyes are riveted to her full lips, already parted for me. A few scant inches, and I could kiss her. Taste her.
But then she rolls her hips against mine, and it breaks the spell. What the fuck am I doing? I shove her off my lap with a frustrated growl.
“You’re not yourself. It’s my power inside you. This will wear off. Just goback.Over.There.”
She pouts, and my faithless eyes drop to her lips again before I manage to tear them away. I level a fierce glare at her, one thatwould have my generals trembling. It has no effect on her. Her pout deepens, but she trudges back to her side of camp.
With a shaky inhale, I grab the whetstone again. The rhythmic shriek of the blade echoes through the still night air.
Smooth, controlled motions until my breathing steadies.
When I chance a look at her again, my heart nearly stops. She’s removed her tunic, wearing only a white chemise, exposing creamy shoulders and the tops of her breasts.
“What are you doing?” I growl. My hand slips, just a sliver shy from the sharp edge of the blade.
“It’s hot.” Her voice is breathy and petulant and, Lightning strike me, why is her pout so tempting?
Her fingers curl beneath the hem of her chemise, and before I can register it, I’ve crossed the camp, hand clamping around her wrist in an iron-tight grip.
“Stop taking off your clothes,” I grit out. My heart violently pummels my ribcage. I might actually die tonight—the fearsome Dark Commander, felled by a heart attack.
She slides her free hand over my abdomen, up my chest, before cupping my face. “I thought you were going to stay on your side, Zev,” she whispers huskily.
I wrench away like she’s burned me.
“Mayah, please,” I groan.
I can’t do this. It’s inhumane.
“Please, Zev,” she moans. “It’s unbearable.”
I’m panting like a madman. I can’t think past the desire raging inside me. “Why don’t you lie down? Try to sleep. It’ll wear off in a few hours.”
She steps closer.
I step back.
“Or maybe I can go for a walk, and you can—”
Another step closer.
Another step back.
“You won’t help me?” Her voice drips with need.
There’s nothing I want more than to give in. Tohave, totake, toclaimafter weeks of fighting against the tether that’s bound me to her. After weeks of stealing glances when she isn’t looking, weeks of chasing her smile like a forlorn puppy, weeks of waking up achingly hard beside her every morning.
But I can’t. She’ll hate me. I’ll hatemyself. Mayah doesn’t actually want me—this is just the aphrodisiac.
So I shake my head, raising my hands in case she attempts to coil around me again.
“Fine.” Her eyes brim with tears, but I can’t give in. I open my mouth to again suggest she satisfy herself when—
—she whirls and bolts into the woods.
Chapter Sixteen
