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I’ve made him laugh. I want to do it again immediately.

Instead, I let my hands move lower, tracing the lines of his stomach, feeling the muscle shift under my touch, and his breathing changes. Still controlled, but not quite as even as it was a moment ago. I follow the ink down past his navel to where it disappears below his waistband, and I feel him watching me the whole time.

My fingers find his belt.

I work the buckle slowly, watching his face while I do it. His jaw is tight, his breathing rough, and his eyes haven’t left mine.

“Cora?”

“I want to,” I whisper, looking up into his dark, burning eyes. “For everything you’ve done.”

21

Cora

Zevran’s brows draw together in sharp confusion. As I start to sink to my knees, he grasps me firmly by the elbows and pulls me back up to my feet.

“What did you just say?”

He looks genuinely confused, like he’s missed a critical piece of a puzzle.

I feel heat crawling up my face. I was so certain this was what was expected of me. There’s always a price, and I’d rather pay it now than leave him unsatisfied and resenting me. And the truth is, I wouldn’t even mind. I like touching Zevran. Giving him pleasure wouldn’t be a chore like it was with Troy.

His hands are tight on my upper arms. A muscle in his jaw tics hard. “You think this is what you owe me?”

“I…” The words shrivel in my throat.

I’ve been here less than thirty minutes, and I’ve already made a mistake.

He lets go of me, his chest rising and falling sharply. I can see the tension running through him.

Make yourself scarce. Don’t be here when he explodes. If you’re not in the room, you can’t be the target.

I take a small step back toward the kitchen door.

“Where are you going?”

The sharpness in his voice makes me flinch.

“I’m just—” My voice comes out smaller than I want it to. “I just thought I should go. Give you some space. When you’re angry with me, it’s better if I’m not—”

“Angry with you?” His voice cuts across the kitchen. “You think I’m angry with you?”

My back is nearly against the doorframe. My eyes flick toward the hallway. I might be able to make the stairs before he hits me.

He crosses the kitchen in three long strides and takes hold of my shoulders. My hands come up instinctively to protect my face.

They meet the broad heat of his chest instead of a blow.

His grip on my shoulders loosens instantly. He doesn’t let go, but the urgency goes out of his hands, and I become aware of his breathing. Still rough, but deliberate, like he’s forcing himself to slow down for my sake.

“Listen to me.” His voice is low and fierce. “Don’t ever leave a room to get out of my sight. Do you hear me? Don’t ever do that.”

I try to nod. My shoulders are still clenched up around my ears.

“I will never leave you.” His hands move from my shoulders to my face, cupping it gently. “Don’t ever leave me. You don’t need to be afraid of what I’ll do.”

My eyes fill with sudden, burning tears.