But she never finished her statement because there was Fordham. His fingers pushed up into her unruly red hair, and his lips descended on her own until there was nothing else in the entire world except the feel of him. Those perfect lips against hers and the taste of faerie punch potent between them.

She tripped, the alcohol making her legs wobble. He caught her easily with a breath of laughter on his lips. Her head was fuzzy, but she still couldn’t believe he was kissing her. After all the effort not to show how much she wanted to kiss him, here he was, with his mouth sealed against hers.

Fordham laid her down amid the out-of-season flowers and cradled her body against his. His hands moving from her back, across her stomach, and up her sides. She arched into him, wanting so much more. Her hands ripped his shirt out from his pants and ran over the hard contours of his abdomen. She dragged her nails over the pale skin, wanting nothing more than to let the faerie punch take over. To forget the three-minute rule from Audria and pull him to her. She could take what she wanted right here in the greenhouse.

“Fordham,” she murmured as he broke away to look at her.

But whatever he saw in her glazed gaze made him dive back down and claim her mouth once again. His tongue delved into her mouth, stroking against her own until there was nothing but heat and need. Gods, she wanted him. She tried to remind herself that this was just part of the game. But the way he moved against hers and the heat from his body made her forget everything entirely.

“Ford,” she groaned as he moved from her mouth to her ear and neck and down to her collarbone. She dropped her head backward, arching into his touch. “Oh Gods.”

He stopped before diving lower. His chest rising and falling like they’d just run a marathon. His pelvis was pressed firmly against her hip, and she could feel precisely what their kissing was doing to him. No matter that they were drunk on punch and under the spell of a game, they both wanted this.

Then, his hands trailed lower and lower and lower. They slid under the waistband of her pants, and everything stilled for a brief moment. His swirling gray irises met hers, a question, a comma, a pause. She nodded once. Yes. Yes, she wanted this. All of him.

He moved down deeper until his finger pressed against her most sensitive area. Her back arched against him. A soft moan escaped her lips, and he drowned it out with a swift kiss. Then, he was at her opening. He pressed one finger experimentally into her, a slow upward thrust that made her shiver from head to toe. He added a second finger as his lips became more insistent against hers.