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She could scent her own arousal; it was that strong. Rymedur seemed to notice the shift in her scent, too. He had been nursing his own glass, leaning against the wall beside her. She felt her eyes glaze, and peered up at Rymedur through her lashes. It was as though something overtook her.

‘What is it, little demon?’ he asked, a smirk curling on his lips. ‘You seem frustrated.’ He was teasing. His words sluggish, dragging.

It was the wine. She had felt it before, and now she could feel it again. Disinhibition.

But it wasn’t just that. She wanted him. She had since she put on that seductive dress and saw his reaction to it.

Rymedur seemed to be on the same sinking ship, because his hand dragged forward ever so slowly, and he ran his fingers over the soft fabric. But he respected her wishes; he waited patiently to see if she wanted to continue.

When she slowly moved to grab his glass, his eyes darkened with hunger, and goosebumps pricked all over her skin. Gods, she was hot.

Areanel took both of their glasses and placed them on the desk.

She shouldn’t be doing this. The mission came first. It always came first.

Walking back over to him, she made sure her steps were slow. Tantalisingly slow. His breaths deepened with every click of her heels, echoing off the wooden floors.

But, gods strike her down, she wanted this. Wanted him.

She stopped before him, her hands resting on his abdomen. With an alluring smile, they slowly inched up to his chest, feeling every muscle, dip, curve, and scar beneath his black dress shirt. He felt damned good. Her mind buzzed with need. When she reached the open buttons at the top of his shirt, her fingers glided over his skin, and heat pooled low, a wanting beast purring at her to give in.

And gods did she want to! There was a beat. Then another. Before…

Fuck it. She hooked her index finger around the warm silver chain on his neck, and with a tug, she pulled his face towards hers.

Their lips connected hungrily, his soft against hers. Areanel’s other hand plunged into his dark locks, pushing his head further down. Rymedur obliged. Bending slightly, his head tilted to one side, allowing her more access. He tasted of her—sweet—and she wanted more.

Rymedur’s hands gripped her waist as she crashed into him. Then he let them travel the length of her body, burning a path. One moved to the curve of her supple breast, the other travelled lower. She moaned against his mouth when his large, warm left hand slid between the slit of her dress, his rough calluses gently moving over her scarred skin, and he cupped her rear. When he felt her bare beneath his hands, he groaned into her mouth. She hadn’t worn any undergarments; she couldn’t, not with how revealing the dress was.

Rymedur pinched her bottom, making her gasp, and the action allowed him full access. He took the opportunity to plunge his tongue into her mouth. The slide of his tongue against hers was maddening.

She craved more. Wanted more. Needed more.

They fought for dominance as their lips clashed, tongue and teeth. Neither one wanted to concede.

Areanel could taste the spicy amber liquid mixed with the intoxicating sweet wine. In a rush of adrenaline, she sucked his tongue into her mouth, making him moan, a deep growl rumbling from his chest, vibrating against hers. He pulled her body closer.

She was slowly running out of air, but had no intention of pulling away. If this were how she died, she would not mind.

She only pulled away from Rymedur when she felt another set of hands—much colder than Rymedur’s, and adorned with rings—resting on her hips.

‘Don’t stop on my account,’ a deep voice purred against her back.

A shiver ran down her spine, leaving goosebumps. Her mind was muddled. Fog clouded her thoughts. All that was left was need, desire, lust—and the way to satiate it was the hands caressing her body.

She shouldn’t want this, but couldn’t find it in herself to pull away.

Together, they mapped curves, claimed every inch of her exposed skin and worshipped. Soft lips gently kissed her shoulder; Rymedur looked over her shoulder, then to Areanel. He was taking in her reaction, making a decision.

His hands left her for a split second as he turned her towards the second pair of hands.

Caius stood before her. That same look of longing she had seen back at the apartment passed across his features.

But that wasn’t the Caius she remembered. No, that Caius was all cocky grins and quick, flirtatious glances.

Where had the Caius from last night gone? The one she couldn’t wait to get away from? The one who had wormed his way into her mind and manipulated her senses.

His pale eyes moved back and forth between her and Rymedur, and something passed between the two males—an understanding of some sort.