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I chuckle, stepping back toward the bike, grabbing my helmet and tossing the second one toward Rowan. "Oh, I will, Rowan. Nice and slow too. Until you stop looking at me like you're waiting for permission to fall apart. But we're not in a hurry, are we? After all, we've only just had our first date tonight."

Rowan barely catches the helmet. "You're an asshole. I shouldn't go back with you. Damaris is⁠—"

"Occupied. He's probably already halfway into my cousin's lap by now."

Rowan's eyes widen. "Ciaran⁠—"

I smirk and swing one leg back over the bike. "Just kidding, mouse. Lucan knows better than to touch what isn't his."

I glance up as Rowan pulls on the helmet. It hides half his face, but somehow he still looks just as wrecked as he did a minute ago.

"Come on, baby. Hop on. Let's get you to bed."

Rowan mutters something that sounds suspiciously like asshole before climbing onto the bike behind me.

Good boy. Did I expect him to fight me, despite his hard-on and his swollen lips and that delectable fucking blush on his cheeks? Fuck yeah, I did. But the second the engine starts, his arms slide back around my waist automatically.

I pull us back onto the empty streets, and I can't seem to wipe off this stupid grin. Now that's what I call a successful first date.

16

ROWAN

His kisses melt my brain. They strip away every bit of resolve I still have left not to fall for him. His mouth on mine. His tongue brushing past mine. His leg wedged between my thighs, teasing my erection⁠—

It's too much.

Somehow, he's crawled his way inside my head with his dates and promises and his hands around my throat as he chokes, chokes, the breath out of me.

I'm a slave for your attention.

"Fuck off," I mutter into the darkness as I turn onto my other side.

But I can't sleep. I can't focus on anything except the ache in my cock and the fact that Damaris still hasn't come home.

What if something happened to him? What if Lucan isn't who he thinks he is and Damaris is in trouble and all I did was lie here with a hard-on thinking about a mafia prince toying with me?

I jerk upright and grab my multi-slate.

Hey, when are you back?

Do I need to send the guards?

I delete the ridiculous smiley before I can send it, then keep my eyes fixed on the reading status. He reads the messages right away, like he always does, but no reply comes.

That's new.

I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and reach for the closest piece of clothing I can find. The shirt I wore tonight, which still has Ciaran's scent somehow clinging to it.

My cock throbs.

Damn it.

Next time you ache like this, little mouse, you come ask for it properly.

I snort quietly as I shove my arms through the sleeves. That's not happening.

But he did promise me he would fuck me, didn't he? I've never been fucked. Never fucked someone, either. It sounds…terrifying. Like the kind of thing that surely would go wrong if I had to do it. My hands would tremble too much, or my cock wouldn't harden enough, or my heart would beat out of my chest.