“Morning,” I said, arching my back as he pressed kisses along the tops of my shoulders. The answering rock of his hips into mine sent a thrill through me—he was hot, hard, and hungry, as he was every morning. Heat spiraled through my body as he stroked and kissed, teased and played, and I clenched the sheets, resisting the urge to buck him off so that I could move things along faster.

Giving someone your back when you were on the ground—or in this case, on a magnificent, four-poster king-sized bed with satin sheets—was pretty much the worst thing you could do. It was an extremely tough position to get out of, even if you were stronger than the other person. I would have never assumed such a position with a casual lover, never mind an enemy.

But Iannis wasn’t my enemy, though I’d considered him as such when we’d first met.

He was my friend. My lover. My future mate.

When he finally turned me over, finally slid himself inside me and joined us as one, the gasp of pleasure that sang through the air came from both of us. Sometimes, we played rough, rocking the heavy bedframe as we tangled ourselves up in each other, pulling hair and nipping at sensitive spots on damp skin. But this morning, we went slowly, drawing as much pleasure and enjoyment from each other as we possibly could. I lost myself in shimmering violet eyes, threaded my fingers through dark, cherry-wood hair, and savored each kiss from his full, wickedly talented lips.

“I’m not sure I’m ever going to get used to this,” I murmured afterward, my head nestling against his hard chest as I curled into his arms. Closing my eyes, I greedily inhaled his scent—a combination of sandalwood and magic that never failed to fill me with warmth.

“Good.” He stroked my hair with one hand, gently squeezed my ass with the other. “I certainly wouldn’t want you to get bored.”

I lifted my head to look him in the eye. “I’m more afraid that you’d get tired of me,” I said, and my chest tightened a little at the admission. I knew Iannis loved me—he’d more than proved that—but he was centuries old, and part Tua, a long-lived, practically immortal race of beings. I couldn’t help but worry that to him, what we had would turn into the blink of an eye in his long life, to be swept away as he turned toward something, or someone, new.