“I don’t want you to stop.”
With another rumbling groan, he kisses me again. His hands imprison my hips, holding me firmly, creating delicious friction that makes me gasp. Taking advantage of my parted lips, his tongue slides between them. My desire spikes higher as our mouths move together, a ravenous dance it is hard to breathe around.
But who needs to breathe?
Pendefyre is finally kissing me.
Breathing can wait.
My pulse is a drumbeat, the tempo accelerating faster and faster as we let the flames consume us. Air and fire, an inextinguishable passion. Igniting together into pure, unadulterated…
Combustion.
One of his hands traces up the sensitive skin of my thigh, lingering briefly at the dagger sheath. He toys with the leather strap for a torturous second before his hand moves even higher—this time not stopping until he’s found the heat burning at my core. A heat that magnifies a hundredfold as he palms the most intimate part of me.
Gods.
Yes.
Clinging to his shoulders, I rock my body against his hold, feeling my mind start to fray into delirium. Feeling like this passion we have unleashed will never burn itself out, no matter how long we touch, no matter how far we let ourselves go tonight.
As his fingers move, working my passion to new heights in slow, rhythmic circles, my own hand slides down his bare chest—hesitating only for a moment at the raised skin of his Remnant—to find his length. I stroke him through the fabric of his breeches, satisfaction furling through me as he looses a low growl into my mouth. The sound makes my thighs clench arounds his fingers.
“Rhya,” he says warningly. His hand stills between my legs. “Maybe we should—”
“No more maybes,” I cut him off, voice breathy. “And no more excuses. We’ve done enough talking, Pendefyre. Just…Touch me.Please.”
His hesitation goes up in smoke. His mouth slams back down on mine, kissing me harder, wetter, deeper. It is a clash of tongues and teeth, a heated battle—one where both of us walk away winners. Our lips never part, even as our desperate hands move over hidden places. Places we have scarcely allowed ourselves to dream of touching, until this moment.
Buttons slip, hems shift. Penn hisses out a sharp breath when I take him into my grip. I love the feel of him, naked in my hands. Strong and sleek as every other part of his body. And he does not hide his own gratification when his fingers find their way beneath my undergarments. A rumble moves deep in his chest at the silken confirmation of my desire for him.
Our kisses ravage as we find new rhythms, carve out a new tempo that crescendoes until I think I will not be able to stand it without shattering to pieces. I shift in his arms—restless, needy. Aching for something I cannot articulate. Not with words, in any case.
The throbbing pulse inside me spikes to a fever pitch.
I can barely keep my thoughts from fraying, lost in the all-consuming nature of Penn’s touch. Even with his maegic muted, the bond heightens our connection—feeding it, fanning the flames to something more than purely physical. Something more than I ever felt with Tomas, something more than I knew was possible.
This is a spiritual, soul-deep connection. One that only makes the urgent dance of our hands and mouths all the more intense. The bond tightens around us, an invisible tether, urging us closer, closer,closer.
When my breaths have been reduced to choppy pants, I can no longer kiss him properly. I pull back only enough to draw air into my lungs and stare into his eyes. Penn’s gaze is locked on mine, a fiery hold I cannot escape. One I do notwantto escape. The fire I see in him is a match for my own. I want it to consume me, spark by spark. I want it to catch into an unstoppable inferno. I want—
Him.
I want him.
He is as close as he’s ever been, and it’s still not close enough.
“Penn,” I whisper, the word cracking in my throat. “Please, I—I need you.”
His eyes flare, molten with lust. His hands slide up to my thighs so he can shift closer, trailing heat across my skin in their wake. My breath catches, anticipation spiraling through me in a vortex, as I feel how close he is—how closeweare. His lips hit my ear.
“I need you, too,” he admits in a rough rasp.
Thank the skies.
My hands lock on his shoulders as my body arches eagerly against his. There is a fire inside me only he can extinguish. One that has been smoldering for months now, an exquisitely slow burn. Tonight, we will spark those embers into everlasting flame.
His grip tightens on my hips as he—