Draven.
I spun Seraphina instantly, crushing her back against my chest. My hand stayed buried under her sundress, fingers splayed hot across her bare stomach, while my other arm banded around her waist like I was nothing more than steadying her on that rickety ladder. The fresh hickey I’d sucked onto her neck throbbed against my shoulder as I shielded it.
Liora stepped into the sunroom, her silky nightgown swaying. “There you are. I thought I heard voices.” Her eyes moved over the fairy lights, the costume scraps, then us. “Draven? Helping with decorations?”
“Couldn’t let her fall,” I said, voice steady even as Seraphina trembled against me. “These old ladders are death traps.”
Seraphina’s breath shook. “Yeah… thanks. I’m fine now.” Her voice came out raw, husky.
Liora’s gaze sharpened on the side of her neck. “Is that a mark? Darling, did you hurt yourself?”
“Fabric snag,” Seraphina choked out. She shoved back hard, breaking my hold, and scrambled down. She brushed past her mother without looking at her. “I’ll finish tomorrow. Night.”
Her footsteps faded up the hall. I watched the sway of that tiny sundress, my cock aching so hard it hurt. Her scent clung to my fingers.
Liora sighed, touching her pearls. “She’s so tense around you. I worry about the transition, with everything moving so fast…”
“She’ll adjust.” I pulled Liora close and kissed her temple, my pulse still roaring. “I’ll make sure of it.”
My phone buzzed in my pocket; Elara. The text lit up: History repeats, Draven. Your new woman will break just like my sister did. Call off this farce before I make you.
My jaw tightened.
I pocketed the phone and told Liora I would be upstairs soon, even though I knew I wouldn't.
—
I sat shirtless at the massive oak desk in my penthouse office. A glass of whiskey sat near my elbow, the burn still sharp on my tongue. Papers and contracts cluttered the surface, but none of it mattered tonight.
Elara's text sat in my mind like a splinter.
Cassie never blamed me out loud. She just grew quieter every year, reaching for warmth I didn't have, until she was gone. The world picked a villain. I didn't argue.
Last night at the party, Seraphina had been different — with no expectations. No demands for forever. Just raw, hungry sex that left me starving for more. No one had ever taken me like that without trying to fix me.
The door clicked open, cutting through my thoughts.
Seraphina slipped in, that loose silk nightwear clinging to every curve. Her hazel eyes locked on mine.
“What the hell are you doing here? I didn't send for you.” I said, voice low and rough as I pushed back from the desk. My pulse kicked up.
She closed the door with a soft click and leaned against it, one bare foot sliding up the wood.
"I know." She held my gaze. "I came anyway."
I leaned back slowly, watching her cross her arms — not defensive, more like she was holding something in. When she spoke it came out unsteady.
"This… whatever this is,” she whispered, glancing toward the hallway, “it’s risky as hell. My mother is right down that hall. If she finds out…”
“She’s not my wife yet,” I cut in, stepping until her breath brushed my bare chest. “Not on paper.” My fingers traced her jaw, thumb brushing her lower lip. “But I feel it too. The knife’s edge. Doesn’t stop me from wanting you so fucking bad it hurts.”
Seraphina’s breath hitched. “It feels like betrayal. Every time I look at her… I remember your hand under my dress at the party. I should hate myself for this. For wanting more.”
“You shouldn't.” I caught her chin, tilting her face up. Her eyes burned into mine. “I've been sitting here telling myself to leave this alone," I said. Quieter than I intended. "That whatever this is ends before it starts.”
She watched me cross the room. Didn't move away.
"And?" she asked, batting her eyelids.
I stopped in front of her, just letting the space between us exist one more second, knowing that closing it would close something else permanently.
"And I can't make myself believe it."
Her eyes burned into mine. I held it there, giving her time to step back but she didn't.
I covered her mouth with mine in a hot, desperate kiss.
She gasped into me, and I devoured it. My tongue plunged deep, ravishing her, tasting whiskey and sweet heat. Her hands were in my hair and the question was answered. I kissed her deeper, pulling her against me, feeling the careful distance she'd been holding dissolve.
I walked her backward toward the desk.
Her hands fisted my hair, tugging hard enough to sting. "Draven… we shouldn't—"
"Tell me to stop." My voice came out rough. I swept the desk clear and lifted her onto the edge, stepping between her thighs. My palms skimmed up her legs, thumbs pressing into the soft inner flesh, feeling her shiver.
Her head fell back, lips parted. Her nipples strained against the fabric, dark and peaked. I bent and closed my mouth over one through the silk, tongue circling until she arched hard off the desk.
A knock landed against the door. Liora's voice followed, soft with sleep: "Draven? Is everything okay? I heard a crash.”
I froze. Mouth still against Seraphina's breast. Her wide eyes found mine — panic raw in them, thighs locked around my hips.”
I lifted my head off her nipple with a wet pop.
"Everything's fine, Liora." My voice came out steady "Just knocked some papers off the desk. Go back to sleep, I'll join you shortly."
Silence.
Then her footsteps retreated down the hall.
I exhaled slowly, pressing my forehead against Seraphina's. Her breath came in shallow pulls against my jaw. Her hands trembled on my shoulders.
I should have stepped back. Let the near-miss be the warning it was. Put the width of this desk between us and told her to go to bed.
I knew what happened to women who got close to me. Cassie had shown me that. Elara's text reminded me tonight, in case I'd forgotten.
I hadn't stepped back.
Seraphina lifted her head. Her eyes searched mine — for an answer, a reason, permission to leave before this became something neither of us could walk back from.
I didn't give her one.
Her gaze dropped to my mouth.
And she was the one who kissed me this time.
