Allen didn't wait for the silence to settle; his hand closed around Yaari's jaw, forcing her eyes up at him as the warm bathwater rippled around their bodies. Her breath hitched, the steam curling like smoke across her flushed face. The lizard priestess's throat trembled as she swallowed, caught between fear and something far darker. He tilted her chin, watching her lips part, and the smallest sound escaped—a pathetic whimper that stirred the hunger in his veins.
"You thought you could tempt me and walk away untouched?" Allen's voice was low, a growl that vibrated through the humid air. Her answer didn't matter; her trembling body had already betrayed her. He let his grip slide from her jaw to her throat, feeling the frantic pulse hammering beneath her scales. A slow squeeze—not enough to choke, but enough to remind her who commanded this temple now.
