Inside the space of Sage's private laboratory, the only warmth came from the two figures entangled in the high-backed console chair.
The air, usually crisp with the scent of ozone and sterilized metal, was now thick with a heady mix of Sage's lavender perfume, sweat, and raw, primal arousal.
Sage was a vision of seductive control as she swung a leg over Zaeryn with unhurried confidence, sliding down until she was fully astride him. Her knees bracketed his hips like a deliberate cage, pressing them together in a charged closeness that left no room for doubt.
She leaned in just enough for him to feel the warmth of her body, her every movement radiating control. Her back arched ever so slightly, violet eyes glinting with mischief, the faint rustle of fabric and the brush of skin against skin amplifying the tension between them.
