[Meredith].
My hands slid up his chest, fingers curling into fabric as if anchoring myself.
The bond hummed, absolutely pleased.
Draven broke the kiss only long enough to rest his forehead against mine, breath hot against my lips.
"Now, this is the best time to tell me to stop, if you want," he said, his voice strained. "And I will."
I didn't hesitate. "Fortunately, I won't be asking you to do that."
That was all it took. His mouth found mine again, slower this time but no less intense, as if he wanted to savour me—taste every breath, every soft sound I couldn't stop myself from making.
His hands roamed with deliberate care, memorizing curves he already knew yet treated like sacred ground rediscovered.
I tugged at his tunic, frustration flaring. He chuckled softly against my lips. "Impatient," he murmured.
"Learned from you," I shot back breathlessly.
