With a soft blush warming Xara's face, she brushed her trembling fingers across her reddened lips, glaring at Aether with eyes that carried both heat and accusation.
He had bitten her lips, almost like a starving beast who had forgotten restraint, and the taste of it lingered far too long on her tongue.
Aether cleared his throat and coughed, "S-So… when will the cure be ready?" His words stumbled out as he dared to glance at Xara, who remained fixed on him, her glare sharp, as if punishing him for the reckless force of his kiss.
Xara wanted to speak her mind about his kisses, about how they were growing rougher with each passing day—dangerously so. It was only a matter of time before he completely lost control and threw himself upon her.
