He held her close, feeling every tremble of her fragile body. She was so damn pure—every nerve ending raw with need and fear. Her breaths were shallow, her heart pounding like a drumbeat in the quiet room.
Pyris's golden eyes darkened with hunger as he traced his fingers over the smooth curve of her hip, slow and deliberate, grounding her before what was coming.
"This is yours," he whispered, voice low and rough, "and I'm gonna make sure you never forget."
His hands moved to her thighs, gentle but firm, lifting her legs as he settled between them. The heat of his body pressed against hers was almost too much, setting fire to the cool skin she wasn't used to having touched like this.
He kissed her neck—soft, then demanding—letting his tongue leave marks that promised more. His fingers found the delicate ties of her gown, and with slow, reverent care, he peeled it away.
