“I am feeling rather warm.” I give him my best impression of a flirty Thorne wink, and it makes him chuckle as he cups his hands on my ass. I untangle myself from him, then slowly ease my leggings down, then my undergarments, never taking my eyes from his. My agonizing pace is intended to taunt him, and it works, if his feathering jaw is any sign. My tunic is long and covers most of my delicate parts, which makes Thorne growl in frustration. He tries to pick up the lacy fabric of my undergarments, but I will them out of existence the moment his hands clasp around them, earning me another growl.

I turn my back on him to walk to the bar cart in the corner, emphasizing my swaying hips with each step. I intend to pour myself a glass of wine, but within seconds firm but gentle hands have me by the waist, spinning me so that I have to look into his pupil-blown eyes. He kisses up the column of my throat, moaning with each press of those full lips to my now-glistening skin. Just like in the hot spring, he weaves his fingers through my hair so he can pull my head to the side and lean down to whisper in my ear.

“I like you teasing me. But just know, witchling, that I can give as good as I take.” A delicious warmth crawls up my body, and I close my eyes with a small sigh. With that, he releases me, backing himself up a few paces and staring me down with a smirk. My body aches for his touch, and he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

Keeping my gaze firmly on his, I delicately unlace the tie at the top of my tunic, exposing a small bit of cleavage. Then I sweep my hair off my neck and arch my back in the movement, knowing exactly what it does to my neckline. My fingers graze delicately over the hem, about to tease him more, but Thorne’s impatience gets the better of him. In an instant, he’s in front of me. He rips the tunic and the bandeau underneath straight down the middle, exposing all of me in seconds. A noise that’s half yelp, half moan escapes me, but Thorne’s lips crush mine in an all-consuming kiss, stifling the sound. He kneads both of my breasts while I run my hands across his smooth, hard chest. When we break apart again, I’m about to make a biting comment about how I won, but his words still me.