He stood tall, six feet of pure male arrogance as he tossed the ruined garment like a shooting star to the other side of the upper floor. “What were you saying?”

She could only blink at him, shock making itself a home in her chest. He was crazy.

Taking advantage of her reaction—or lack thereof—he ran a hand down her thigh and gripped the underside, wrapping her leg around his hip and hoisting her up so her other foot grazed the floor.

“Go ahead, Veralie. Stop me,” he murmured, his voice rough and gravelly as lust speared through him. His scent assaulted her, drowning out every other thought in her head.

“You’re going to get us kicked out,” she breathed, even as she gripped his shoulders and hiked her leg higher, giving him better access.

He released a dark chuckle, scraping his canines against the shell of her ear. “The chance of that happening is entirely up to you.”

He pressed against her, shoving her back against the shelf again. Scrolls rolled off, littering the floor around them, their ends clanking loudly in the silence, but she couldn’t have cared less anymore.

A second later, he dug his fingers into her other thigh and yanked, wrapping her leg around his other side and lifting her completely. Aligning himself at her bare center, he rolled his hips sharply, hitting that perfect spot and drawing a moan up her throat.

He hummed approvingly into her neck, licking and nipping his way down while his fingers caressed and squeezed her thighs beneath her dress.

As he molded his lips over her shoulder and sucked, she could only crane her neck for him, submitting to his touch. “Please, Jaren.”

He raised his head, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Unless you want an audience, I suggest you find a way to stay very quiet, little star.”

“Asshole.” Her breathing hitched, and she tightened her hold on his shoulders with each steady roll of his hips against her center.

“Don’t tempt me,” he said, lips curled in a smirk. “I’ll take that with no remorse and have you screaming out to the gods until your throat is raw.”

Desire pooled in her core as a shudder coursed through her body. She dug her nails in and opened her mouth to answer, but a hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing just hard enough to stop her from speaking.

His breath danced across her lips as he leaned in and whispered, “Undo my trousers.”

More than happy to follow that order if it got him inside her, she did, practically tearing them in the process. He shoved her harder into the shelf, holding her up with only his hand around her throat and her legs clamped around his waist.

Slipping his other hand between them, he removed himself, sliding his fist up and down his stiff length. She licked her lips, watching as beads of white dripped onto his fingers.

“Not one sound, Veralie.”