She nipped at his lip, her teeth dragging along his sensitive skin, hard enough to sting. Walking them backward until his back was pressed against the bark of a tree, she ground her pelvis into his body, making him groan. “No, Thornbury, you don’t get to tell me what to do. I need to erase his touch from me. I need this.”

He understood that, too.

Fear and anxiety deepened physical attraction, and God knew, after the interlude in the bowels of the ship that the two of them had that in spades. The flames between them could set the entire copse on fire. But he had to be better. He had to think for both of them when the haze of lust was blanketing her brain. He was the trained operative in this situation and she was not.

“Don’t,” she warned. A glimmering dark gaze speared him.

He let out a breath when she went still, her body still glued along his front. “Don’t what?”

“Think for me. I’ve had enough of people who try to do that. I’m capable of making my own decisions, no matter what’s running through that deeply logical head of yours.”

“Not logic, I assure you.”

Moments—an eternity—passed between them. Her pulse hummed wildly at her nape, her heartbeat drumming at a pace as chaotic as his. Her hand slid from its hold around his neck, sliding ever so slowly down his chest. She leaned back slightly to allow it room to move, and Valentine caught his breath when she reached his waistband. Eyes holding his with complete clarity, though dilated with the same lust likely consuming his, she dropped her hand and gripped his rigid length in her palm. They both inhaled.

“Do you want me, Valentine?” she asked, her thumb stroking over the tip of his achingly sensitive crown.

“It’s obvious, no?” he hissed. “This erection isn’t for the man I left in the alley.”

Her lips curved at his caustic tone. “I want you, too.”

“Bronwyn.”

She squeezed, making him gasp, and then stroked down. “Will you deny me?”

“You’re a—”

“I would caution against saying ‘lady’ with my hand where it is.” She dragged her nails upward along his rigid length, earning a growl from the depths of his chest. “I am a woman, and I know what I want.”

Without warning, she dropped to her knees, and before he could stop what she was doing, she had the placket of his trousers opened, the fabric yanked down, and the full head of him engulfed in her warm mouth. Valentine’s eyes rolled back in his skull when she lapped at him, a needy moan rumbling from her. No, she wasn’t a lady…she was a temptress sent to lure him to purgatory with that sweet, sinful tongue.

“Bronwyn, you can’t.”

In response, she sucked. Hard. And he nearly spent right there.