Soren carried her through the shadowed antechamber as though she weighed nothing, the faint glow of scented candles flickering across the vaulted ceilings like distant stars.
The massive bed loomed ahead, an ocean of midnight silk and fur, framed by ice-carved posts that caught the aurora's light spilling through the high windows.
He lowered her slowly, reverently, letting her sink into the yielding sheets. The sheets sighed beneath her, cool at first, then warming instantly against the fever of her skin.
Eris's breath came in shallow, uneven waves. The slip had ridden up to her waist during the carry, leaving her thighs bare, her drenched folds still glistening from his mouth.
Hair spilled wild across the pillows, a halo of white flame. She looked utterly wrecked, cheeks flushed crimson, lips swollen, golden eyes glazed with lingering shock and unrelenting want.
