Those sweet lips parted and my tongue slipped through her teeth, meeting hers in a frenzy of need and lust.

There was no easing into the kiss, nothing gentle. I demanded her mouth and took it. She tasted like rain in the forest, fresh and wild. This, I shouldn’t want it. Her taste, her body, her skin, I should not be such a weak thing and crave it, but a spark in the blood settled in my chest. Heat that drew me closer, keeping me ensnared by her touch.

It was a feeling like coming home, like I’d been here before.

A craving took hold deep inside, a bit of madness unraveled at the edges, and left me needing more of her softness, her kiss, her touch. More of her.

I wasn’t alone.

Unease faded from her features into something darker, almost feral. One hand held my waist, keeping my hips aligned with hers, and the other dug into my hair, tugging at the roots. She arched against me and a soft moan glided from her throat.

One kiss slid to the next, rough, desperate. All teeth and desire. I tasted her jaw, her throat.

“Roark.” My name spoken in such a cry of want snapped something inside, something greedy. Something dangerous.

One palm flattened next to her head, the other dragged along the length of her thigh, up the divots of her ribs, to the underside of her breast.

I paused and Lyra cracked one eye. She took hold of my wrist, a beautiful bloom of pink flushed her skin. The silver scars flashed with heat when she guided my hand over her breast.

A groan escaped my chest. I crashed my mouth back on her, working the shape of her, rubbing my thumb over the peak of her nipple under her bodice.

Lyra reached between us and palmed the bulge in my trousers. Blood abandoned my head. Couldn’t be helped. With every touch, this woman had my body raging for more, like a boy who couldn’t control his own damn cock.

She would be wise to turn from me, and I’d be wise to let her. But I was a selfish bastard and could hardly stomach the thought of anything but Lyra’s body wrapped around mine, the slap of our skin, her eyes looking at me like I was more than the Death Bringer of the kingdom. Like I was more than a silent Stav who was only here because a boy prince had taken pity on the enemy at the gates.

I tugged at the neckline of her gown, desperate for a taste of her skin, but went still when voices rose from beyond our hidden sanctuary.

“Sentry Ashwood! Melder Bien.”

Thane’s voice followed. “Keep looking. Find them.”