“Did you swallow any?” Magnus ripped the wine from my grip and passed it to one of the many bodyguards surrounding us.

I shook my head.

His hand released my throat, and before I caught my breath, he spun me in his arms and slammed his lips down on mine.

All his kisses were fire, but this one was legendary, an inferno sizzling with desperation and rage. He ate at my mouth as if he were trying to suck poison from every hidden crevice along my teeth and tongue.

I clawed at his tuxedo, my lungs burning, needing air. He gave me a sip, one gulp of oxygen, then took my mouth again, deepening the kiss, the intensity, devouring me whole.

His arms banded around me. My heels lost purchase with the floor. It was all I could do to hold on and steal precious breaths through his passionate attack.

“Magnus.” I sank a hand into his hair, pulling thick strands as my teeth scraped his lips. “I’m okay.”

He grunted, beyond discernible words, beyond reason. So I gave him the time he needed. I gave him my mouth and my love, letting him know I was alive and safe in his very capable arms.

With harsh groans, he darted his tongue in and out, feeding it to me, leading me to the gates of hell. His woodsy scent and masculine flavor burned through my veins, consuming everything in its path. I felt him in my lungs, my trembling limbs.

His kiss turned pornographic as he fucked my mouth, grasping the side of my head, switching angles, and controlling how deeply I opened for him.

And I died. I died in his arms, boneless and ravaged. His possession was absolute.

Slowly, his embrace loosened, and my feet lowered to the floor.

He rested his forehead against mine and framed my face with huge hands, panting hotly against my throbbing, abused lips.

“Jesus, Magnus.” I searched his eyes. “What happened?”

“Someone broke into our room.”

“Here? In the Constantine mansion? Who would’ve—?”

“A bottle of poisoned wine was left on our bedside table, along with an invitation to the Morelli Christmas Ball.”

“What?” My stomach bottomed out, and my hand tightened on his nape. “How do you know it was poisoned?”

He gave me a look, all broody and arrogant, vibrating with impatience.

“Don’t be a dick.” I huffed. “Are you telling me you have all our food and drinks tested for poison?”

“When we’re staying at your mother’s house? You better fucking believe it.”

“That’s why you told Galen to make sure I didn’t drink anything.”

“And your brother.” He traced a thumb along my bottom lip. “Your family has more enemies than I do, and evidently, some of them are stupid enough to deliver poisoned wine with a dinner invitation.”

“You think the Morellis sneaked into my family’s estate? While we were all assembled in the ballroom?”