How could one woman be so fierce, yet so caring?
The duality of man incarnate.
I stroked her chilled skin, and sooty eyelashes fluttered against the pad of my thumb.
Need burned in my lower gut.
Everything narrowed until all I could see was hooded dark blue eyes, wild blue curls, smoke curling from plush pink lips as Aran stared up at me like I was her savior.
Awareness exploded across my skin.
Because I wanted nothing more than to be her champion.
A tortured woman like her needed a tortured man like me; like Sisyphus, we were bound to suffer. Together.
Diamonds sparkled on her wrist, and the jewel of death hung heavy across her chest.
I was touching her.
She was at my mercy.
At last.
Since the party had started hours ago, John and I had stood against the wall, watching as she flirted with Sadie.
And even though I didn’t have an issue with the woman like my twin did—since she made Aran happy, that was all that mattered to me—it had still been frustrating to watch without touching. Claiming. Defiling.
Alas, she smiled differently when Sadie was around, so we’d stayed back in the shadows. Watched with amusement as they’d flung themselves through the crowd like battering rams.
They’d danced wantonly and drunk heavily. Taken random drugs from strangers with mischievous grins.
She’d been carefree.
Different.
She’d only sunk once into the darkness, but Cobra had slapped her and brought her back to reality. By the time John and I had realized what had happened, the snake shifter had disappeared into the crowd and the kings had arrived.
We would punish him later.
For now, I held her in my arms.
I pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, and her icy scent was like adrenaline straight to the veins.
My lips tingled from the innocent touch.
Electricity sparked between us.
Aran’s mouth curled up into a smirk, and she whispered huskily, “Fuck me in front of the kings, pretty please.” She batted her eyelashes.
Blood rushed south at the thought of taking her so publicly.
The idea of Orion watching was an added bonus.
Lately, I’d noticed how his dark eyes were always fixated on my Aran. He’d bite his pouty lips like he was dreaming of devouring her. I understood exactly how he felt.
It was intriguing to see someone else fixate on her with the same obsession.
The strangest part of it all was that I’d noticed he existed.
Now his long lashes fluttered as he stared at Aran with undisguised hunger. His gaze flitted in the space between our lips.
I liked knowing he watched.
I liked knowing he was just as obsessed, but she was mine.
I smirked with male satisfaction and cupped her precious face with both my hands, trailing my thumbs across her cheekbones as I cradled her before me.
“You don’t have to beg, love,” I said softly.
She inhaled sharply and relaxed into my touch. She let me hold her up. Own her.
I whispered into her halo of curls, “But I like the way you melt for me.”
A soft moan escaped her lush lips, and it was the sweetest ambrosia after a lifetime of starvation.
“This is your only warning.” My voice was rough as I pushed myself flush against her. “I’m not going to hold back because we’re in public.”
Navy eyes widened as her lips made an o of surprise, then she smiled shyly and mumbled, “That’s fine.”
I couldn’t stop my smirk.
It was time to show her just how attached I could be.
Chapter 16
Aran
PARTY
Amative （adjective）： strongly moved by love and especially sexual love.
DAY 9, HOUR 21
Luka pulled the pipes from my lips and pressed them into his mouth. He tipped his head back and inhaled with his eyes closed. The lines of his neck strained, and he shivered.
I gulped.
He tipped his head back forward and licked frost off the pipes like he was savoring my taste.
Students and soldiers moved around us in a mass of flailing limbs. The shadowy darkness of the room wrapped around.
We were blanketed in darkness.
Desire flamed between us.
Courage burned my sternum, and with the room warped in slow motion, I fell to my knees.
Before.
Luka.
His eyes were chips of obsidian, and he tracked my every movement like he was obsessed with me.
He always watched and touched me like he couldn’t get enough. When I was around the twins, I felt cared for.
With Luka, I felt cherished. Special.
He sucked on my pipes, the vapor from drugs curling around him as his fingers tangled in my hair and he looked down at me ardently.