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The teasing disappears from his voice.

I glance at his outstretched hand.

“That’s it?”

“That is everything.”

Something about the way he says it makes my chest tighten.

I look up at him.

“You’ve never been touched?”

“Not by a mortal.”

“Ever?”

“Never.”

I study his face, searching for the joke.

There isn’t one.

For a man who looks like he was personally designed to inspire bad decisions, he suddenly seems strangely vulnerable.

“Okay,” I whisper.

His eyes sharpen.

“Okay?”

“I’ll touch you.”

He draws a slow breath.

“Then do it.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“Morpheus.”

His mouth twitches.

“Please.”

“Much better.”

I lift my hand.

His gaze follows every movement.

The candles flicker wildly around us.

A low rumble moves through the marble floor.

“Is that supposed to happen?” I ask.

“Do not stop.”