“You should have.” I never would’ve covered my shoulders again.

His soft hum vibrates against my neck; his tongue darts out, dragging along my collarbone.

Heat spreads like liquid fire between my thighs.

My shift falls to the floor in an ivory puddle, and I stand before him with nothing more than a scrap of lace between my thighs.

His pupils swallow his dark irises, his chest rising and falling as if he’s been running too fast for too long. He traces my ribs and along the swell of my hips, all the way to the mottled skin of my thighs.

“When I look at you,” he begins, taking my hand and pressing my palm to his chest, “I am overwhelmed.”

To think that I could overwhelm someone like him is ridiculous, yet I hear the sincerity in his voice and feel the way his pulse skips. He drags the backs of his knuckles down my neck, between my breasts, all the way to the line of lace. “You are so soft. So delicate. Every part of you is beautiful.” His head lifts, dark eyes meeting mine. “May I touch you? I promise to be gentle.”

I nod. Waiting. Anticipating. Desire licking at my skin as he toys with the tips of my breasts, skimming and stroking with featherlight fingertips. Gripping and kneading. Groaning as he finds me with his tongue. Teasing. Tasting.

I melt deeper into his embrace, relaxing against him as his lazy fingers make their way to the juncture of my thighs. “Has anyone ever touched you here?” he rasps.

“No one but me,” I confess as he delves deeper, massaging. Exploring. Tantalizing.

His teeth drag against where my neck meets my shoulder. I think of those women in the village. Of what he told me about Unseelie mating bonds.

I tip up my chin, giving him more of me. All of me. A willing sacrifice. “Mark me as yours.”

He draws back, his nostrils flaring and eyes searching. “Kerris…”

“Please, Ever. I want to belong to you in every way.”

Still, he hesitates. “You are certain?”

“Yes.”

He kisses where my neck meets my shoulder. Softly. Softly.

When he finally clamps down, the mix of pleasure and pain is so heady, my heart feels as if it’s about to burst through my chest. “Again.” A demand. A plea.

Ever moves lower, to my breast, nipping and then soothing the sharp ache with a devious flick of his tongue. My head falls back as my hips surge toward his, searching for friction. As if he knows exactly what I need, Ever spins us around and urges me onto the mattress.

The soft quilt smells like it’s been dried in the fresh air.