Page 139 of Tempting Fate

I sucked in a breath. Wicked, scandalous, incredible woman. “Would she want that?”

“Perhaps she would. And if there were to be a scandal?”

“If it were to be discovered he had touched her inappropriately, had taken liberties, or even”—I tugged her tight against me, gripping handfuls of her plentiful arse, letting her feel how hard I was, my cock digging into her pillowy stomach—“had been intimate with her already…” They would have to be formally mated. “They would not be allowed to dance together again.”

“That would be a tragedy.”

“Especially as they dance together so well.” I would never get over the feel of her tight, wet heat around me. “He would miss the feel of her body. Her warmth. Her softness.” I cradled her, breathing in the luscious scent of moonlit jasmine. “But more than that, he would miss her company. The way she made him smile, made him feel seen.” This embrace was no dance I knew, just a slow, intimate sway, our arms around each other.

“She would miss him too,” Imani’s breath was hot over my bare chest. “She would spend long nights alone, thinking of how desperately empty she felt now they could no longer… dance.”

My brave Imani. So confident, so commanding, except when it came to her heart. “And if he were no longer bound by the rules of his polite society, if she were no longer bound by the rules she’d given herself, what then? Could they still dance, my moonlight?”

She dragged her gaze up, lingering on my lips before meeting my eyes.

I willed her to see my truth, the love I had for her, the deep-rooted knowledge that we were made for each other—that all of life would work itself out if only we could dance together.

“Would they have to be mated in order to dance? Would it help them dance better? Together?”

I fought for breath. “They would talk about it. They would dance so well together, even she would realise it was right for them, that it was the truth of her soul, of her bones.”

Imani tucked herself into my chest, swaying against me. “After a few more dances, I think she might agree.”

“They’d have to be stolen dances. In a deserted ballroom.”

“They’re the best kind of ballroom.”

“With a floor so soft, it would be made for dancing.”

“Is that so?”

“See?” I pushed her backwards with three Chase steps and crossed a leg behind hers. I’d been guiding her towards the edge of the cavern where a wall rose not far behind her. I stepped forwards, tripping her, and guided her gently to the floor.

Her breathing came heavy. “My Lord! What would the neighbours think?”

“Madame Moss? She would be scandalised they had danced in her bed, would likely faint.”

Imani’s hair flared out on the glowing moss, her sultry smile lit by the glowbugs all around us. “And the Firefly family?” She sucked in a breath, her pretty brown eyes focused on my mouth again.

Oh, she would have all the kisses she desired and more. I pushed her legs apart and knelt between them. “They can think whatever they like.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

A Truth

Airida

IMANI HAD NEVER looked so beautiful.

Seeing her like this, beneath me, her gaze lit with wonder and desire, I was acutely aware how big I was, how powerful, how easily I could hurt her. She wasn’t meant to be a tiny thing beneath me but a radiant goddess above me.

Shaking, I braced myself over her, dipped my head, and pressed my lips to hers. Gods, I fit so perfectly between her legs. I wanted to take my time with her, but a primal urge rose up—a drive so base and urgent and wholly kri’ith—to rip off her leggings and take her.

Imani tangled her fingers into my headspines and tugged, seizing control of the kiss, her other hand on my cheek.

I whimpered, all thoughts dissipating but one: she could kiss me forever, and it would never be enough.

She brought one leg under mine and nudged it to the side. “Roll over, baby.”