"Please... take me," Seraphina breathed, the words spilling out before she could stop them. Her voice was shaky, almost pleading. She had never known this kind of hunger—raw, desperate, almost unbearable. Her body trembled with it. The ache between her legs had turned into something maddening. She needed him like she needed air.
Rhydian stilled.
His eyes locked on hers, wild, dark, and full of heat that nearly made her knees go weak. For a moment, he didn't speak. He just stared, like he needed to memorize this version of her, undone, vulnerable, his.
Then his mouth curved into something dangerous. "My pleasure, love," he replied, his voice low, rough, and barely under control.
