Victor's kiss deepened, measured in its slowness, as if he wanted Elias to feel every fraction of his intent, to let each breathless pause become proof. His hand slid lower, fingers spanning Elias's hip, the steady weight of his palm a reminder that he could hold him still with nothing more than touch.
Elias arched into it without meaning to, a tremor running through him as the fire cracked in the hearth. His mind whispered of Uno, of gods, of corruption, but the whisper was drowned out by the press of Victor's mouth and the thick, intoxicating swirl of his scent. Smoke and winter spice, heavy enough to blot out reason.
Victor broke the kiss only to trace his lips across Elias's cheek, down the line of his throat, where his teeth grazed lightly against skin flushed and damp from the shower. "You think too much," he murmured, his voice velvet dragged over steel. "So let me remind you what you already know."
