Our kisses were fervent and sensuous. Each of us whispered the other's name and stole our own with every inhaled breath. Varen's hair feathered between my fingers as I pushed them through the short locks. He had a forearm braced against the upward curve of the chaise to keep his full weight off of mine, his muscular thighs trapping my legs, and our flushed flesh was separated by luxurious rose-gold and battle-black adamere. Heat sparked on my skin wherever his free hand roamed, never ceasing in gentle touches. His fingers glided around the nape of my neck to curl through my upswept hair, coast down my throat, and caress my side in languid strokes.

All the while I kissed and touched him back.

I wanted to kiss away his torment.

I wanted to kiss away my guilt.

My throat thickened painfully. A thin sheen of hot, stinging tears shimmered in my vision, but I couldn't allow them to fall. I was to blame for his brother's death and I feared it would ruin us irrevocably if he ever discovered the truth. I wasn't sure if he'd ever forgive me.

As soon as Varen mentioned the beast had struck from above and given me a description of its many-eyes, I knew with certainty it was that insidious creature inside my aunt who had hunted his brother. Six months ago, it had broken free from the sticky chains of the krekenn web and I'd thought it had headed for the Deniauds', but it hadn't. It fled fast and far to the Heart of the Hemmlok Forest. A forest shared by three Houses—Lyon, Deniaud, and Szarvas.

Varen had been there. He had witnessed his brother's death and blamed himself.

It was wrong, so wrong of him to hold onto that guilt. He wasn't to blame.

I'm sorry...

Forgive me...

From the moment he and I had first met as children, we'd become knotted and stitched together in a myriad of tangled threads. A tapestry woven of half-truths, torment, and guilt. Heartbreak too. It would destroy Varen to learn that his blood, blood he'd given willingly, was what I needed to free the monstrous beast that had murdered his brother.

It was the catch in my breath, the hard length of him rocking against my clit, stirring echoes of blissfulness, that brought me back to the here and now. To the aching pressure building inside my core, a sinful tempest of lust.

"Tabitha," Varen moaned into our kiss. "Sweet Tabitha." I lost myself in his touch on my body and the way his mouth conquered every inch of my own. The seductive thrust of his tongue ignited a craving that turned my blood to liquid heat and wicked flames that scorched my flesh.

He groaned deeply, a sonorous tremor from the depth of his chest, reaching all the way inside mine. I sighed softly at the delicious rasp of his bristled cheek as he nudged me to angle my head for a deeper kiss. Thorough and languid and full of need.

It was chilly in the room but our bodies together were a furnace. Hot with the hard lines of his body contouring to my own. Hotter where his erection rocked right at that pleasurable point, restlessly moving back and forth in an ageless rhythm, winding me tighter and tighter. My inner thighs were sticky with arousal and my sex ached in acute agony beneath my dress. I was almost angry at the fish-scaled cut of his armor. Armor I wanted to rip off. A dress I wanted to shred. To revel in the feel of us—skin to skin.

This was what I needed. Him. Only him.

And I wanted more.

Needed more.

I wanted to forget all the before, the dread of what was to come, and stay with Varen in this room enshrouded with shadows and silvery light. Selfishly, I wanted to tether us together in a way neither of us would be able to undo.

My hands skimmed the ridge of his abs and drifted over the fine dark hair to the pants clinging to his strapping physique. My fingers fumbled to undo his belt. He stopped me with a hand on my wrist. "We need to stop," he rasped.

"What if I don't want to stop?" Though I knew what I wanted, it was a different matter asking for it, and all of a sudden I was nervous.

I didn't blink.

I wasn't even sure I was breathing when I raised a hand slowly, pale moonlight gilding its curves in a ghostly sheen.

I snapped my fingers.

It was a slow turn of a key before it clicked for him.

I understand, Mr. Crowther. You don't need to remind me of what you hold over me. You do your little snap of the fingers, and I'll obey, don't you worry.

He levered his upper body from my own, pushing up by a hand. Surprise widened his lust-glazed eyes, and he stared at me as if trying to work out if I was serious or not.

The longer waves in his hair were stiff and in artful disarray from his earlier exhaustion of hunting through the Hemmlok Forest. I toyed with the curly locks falling over his forehead before tracing a path along his temple, down the brutal cut of his jaw, bristles prickling my fingers. "I promised you one night. No one at the wedding reception knows I'm here. They'll all think I'm sitting and talking to someone else at the Banquet Hall."

His voice was dangerously soft, yet lacked conviction. "I'm not going to fuck you."

It was a slight roll of my hips as if I were uncomfortable. The upward press of my sex against the iron length of him. He hissed between gritted teeth as his fingers dug into the edge of the velvet chaise. Hunger vibrated from him, almost tangible in the air. It was tangible in the air, I realized. Satiny threads of warm air shifted through the room like water sifting through kelp. The air was stirred by him, by his otherness, and the conflict of desire and denial.

Yet, the way his eyes drifted downward, his heated gaze caressing the pleated fabric clinging to the swell of my breasts, rising and falling with quickened breaths, sweeping to there, had his resolve slowly crumbling. Fire flashed within his eyes and his nostrils flared. And I knew he was thinking of how I tasted on his tongue. How it felt to clasp my writhing hips and hold me still as he dipped inside to lick me.

"I want you Varen." The backs of my fingers grazed the tip of his erection, thick and hot and straining beneath his armor. "I know you want me just as much." It was a fluttering touch, barely there, like butterfly wings kissing cheeks. Yet the way his eyes screwed shut, pain creasing his features, and the low, gravelly groan, revealed he felt my featherlight touch as if I'd encircled my fingers around him and stroked.

"I want this," I whispered, working at his belt, undoing the heavy buckle, wrenching the leather strap free of the metal clasp. The soft adamere material gaped wide, the pants sliding a little down his hips, and his sigh of utter relief as his cock was freed from constraint, sent a shiver of desire across my skin.

Dark eyes sliced up to meet mine.

And mine lowered. A smile tickled my mouth at the boxer briefs hugging his hips and the name stamped boldly across the hem. BOSS boxer briefs no less. Rather appropriate for someone who breathed dominance. The cotton threads of their hem wisped against my skin as I ran a fingertip along its line, back and forth in taunting strokes. "I want you."

I raised my eyes and we held each other's gazes. Violet eyes sharpened to the keen edge of a blade as he looked at my offer from every angle.

One heartbeat—

Two—

Varen was a whirlwind of movement.

One blink he was there—

The next—

Gone.

A swirl of air. A hint of summer stormwinds ruffled my hair and teased my dress in a billow of silk.

I startled upright, my legs swinging over the edge of the chaise. My mouth gaped in bewilderment to suddenly discover I was sitting here all alone in the bedroom.

What the freaking hells?

A few chunks of broken porcelain crunched beneath my heels as I got to my feet. On the carpet, I followed a trail of discarded clothes. Varen's dirt-crusted boots were tossed haphazardly, socks too. The belt was flung aside, while his adamere pants were in a crumpled pile, and the navy boxer briefs had been the last discarded. Each piece of clothing was a stepping stone leading to the bathroom. I peered through the door cast wide open, bright light seeping into the dark bedroom, but I stood too far away to see its insides fully.

My senses twitched at the downpour of streaming water striking off porcelain, and there came a distinctive sound of furious movement and water spraying off a body. A scent of masculine soap filtered into the bedroom on the clouds of whirling steam. The shower abruptly stopped as quickly as it began.

In a flurry of speed, Varen suddenly appeared at the threshold of the bathroom door, one hand propped against the frame.

I jolted with astonishment.

My wide-eyed gaze locked with his. He brushed his teeth—schliiick, schliiick, schliiick—staring at me, almost as if he was worried I'd change my mind and leave.

It was impossible not to look. He was standing there naked with a shower-fresh glow sparkling on his inked skin, his damp hair messily dried, and the towel draped around his neck. And my gaze lowered to his cock, heavy and dark with arousal.

"My eyes are up here, Miss Catt," I heard him drawl.

My gaze snapped upward to see him smirking with a finger pointed to an eye shining with amusement.

I tipped my chin up haughtily. "Your eyes aren't the part of you I'm currently interested in, Mr. Crowther."

His joyous laugh shuddered his entire body. He grinned around the toothbrush in his mouth. Minty foam bubbled between his pouty lips as he hurriedly scrubbed the backs of his teeth.

"What are you doing?" I asked, frowning.

He pulled his toothbrush free and frowned back at me, gesturing to himself with it as if all of this were obvious. "I was all sweaty."

I clapped a hand to my mouth to muffle the laugh. "What does it matter? I'm going to be sweaty soon enough too."

"And I tasted of whiskey," he grumbled.

"You taste"— freaking—"delicious."

His gaze dipped to my lips and violet eyes gleamed with longing.

In a naked streak of flesh, he was gone.

He'd disappeared once more into the bathroom, spinning my mind into dizziness as I tried to keep up with that unnatural Crowther speed of his.

Two seconds later, he was back.

Varen's bulky physique swamped the space of the doorway. He was backlit by amber light which limned his figure and stroked filmy shadows over his imperious features. The towel was gone from around his neck. Sparkling white teeth shone brightly in a gloriously broad beaming smile. My heart melted and then skittered with nervous energy when he casually leaned a shoulder against the doorframe. Hunger lowered his eyelids and his gaze slipped with dark desire down my body, undressing me with his gaze, stripping me from the Grecian dress and letting it flutter to the ground. One of his hands snaked down to wrap around his erection.

Holy hells...

Knuckles tightened, and his thumb swept over the glistening crown as he worked himself in languid strokes, pleasuring himself while he soaked up every line and curve of my figure.

And I did the same.

Varen was masculine sensuality. Strikingly beautiful in his wildness and sinfully handsome. Tall and massive. Every single inch of him, including his cock. A cock that was sinewy and angry looking. Intimidating in its size and girth. Fierce heat crept up my neck to stain my cheeks a bright crimson, I was sure of it. Yet could I tear my gaze away from what he was doing?

Seemingly, no.

I yanked my gaze away, somewhat reluctantly, and softly cleared my throat. His glassy gaze snapped to mine, and he blinked rapidly as if coming out of a daze.

Lust, I thought.

Love, I hoped.

Love.

It arrested my attention. I hadn't time to even think upon the revelation that I was in love with Varen. To be curious if he felt the same way too. There'd been no time to untangle it, to turn it over in my mind and inspect it from all sides, and decipher at exactly what point in time I'd fallen in love with this brusque tattooed man, who was completely unfiltered with his thoughts.

I realized I must have been staring at him for too long when he arched an inquiring eyebrow. So I waved my fingers, gesturing for him to join me.

Varen pushed off the doorframe and practically bounced his way toward me. Gloriously naked. Fully erect. His entire body vibrated with boyish excitement, and it was contagious.

He came to a halt, standing flush in front of me, both of us smiling shyly.

And suddenly I didn't know what to do. What to say?

And seemingly, neither did Varen.

I waited for him to make the next move because I'd locked up, unable to even speak or reach for him. He froze, hesitating with indecision. I could feel it poisoning the air around us.

The abundant confidence he always oozed drained away, and anxiety trembled through his eyes. He suddenly dropped his gaze to the carpet between us, to the ripple of rose-gold spread around my feet, as if what he felt was too vulnerable to share with me.

Swallowing my nerves, I whispered, "What are you waiting for?"

He minutely shifted his weight from foot to foot, and his hands shifted at his sides, fingers twitching as if he was on the cusp of kneading them. Surprise rippled through me to see him off-kilter and so unsure of himself. I tapped his chin lightly, to encourage him to lift his gaze back to mine. Nervousness was reflected back in rounded eyes. "My dress," I breathed. "It needs to come off."

He nodded, blowing out a pent-up breath, the gust tickling my forehead.

I half-turned to present my profile, staring through the bedroom window at the midnight landscape outside, pale light dappling the tall trees in the distance, while in my periphery Varen reached forward. But it wasn't my dress he unzipped, it was my hair he chose to unpin first. Each slide of a fine pin gently broke apart the long length twisted into a golden crown, and my hair tickled my spine as it cascaded downward in a tangle of gold. The plunk of each metal pin he tossed onto the low table beside the chaise broke the heavy silence in the room.

Desire thrummed heavily inside my veins. Time seemed to crawl. I was wild with longing, desperate to feel his naked skin against my own, and it only grew wilder, more intense and savage with each passing heartbeat.

I turned my head over my shoulder to watch the fierce concentration playing out over his features as his large fingers pinched the zipper cleverly hidden beneath a seam and he ran it slowly down the track with a whirring hum, the backs of his knuckles skimming my skin all the way down to my hip. The silky fabric parted, the dress separating.

His utter shock crackled through the air stirring in the bedroom with his storm-weaving ability, and he cursed beneath his breath when he discovered I wore no bra, no panties.

Panties would have ruined the line in my dress.

A practical choice I'd made, not even contemplating that I'd be here with Varen.

Yet his reaction caused a fiery bolt of queenly power to charge through my veins like lightning.