Page 119 of Elemental Becoming

I smile, entirely unashamed. “I never wanted to go to the ball, remember?”

My tone mirrors his: teasing, dry, full of mischief. Then I leanin and drag the tip of my tongue along the side of his neck.

The boldness surprises even me.

But it feels right.

Thane has awakened a part of me I didn’t know existed. Around him, I don’t just want to be near him—I need to touch him, feel him, pull him impossibly closer.

I arch my back, pressing closer to the hand hovering just above my breast. Finally . . .finallyhe covers it with his palm.

Heat flashes through me so sharply it steals my breath. My eyes flutter shut as my head tilts back.

His hand moves slowly against my breast while his mouth finds my throat again—kissing, sucking, lingering just long enough to make my pulse jump wildly beneath his lips.

I roll my hips against his reflexively.

The rigid evidence of his want presses back immediately.

Thane pulls away just enough to look at me, hunger burning openly across his face.

“But all those people came to seeyou, Spiritborn.” His voice drips with wicked amusement. “We wouldn’t want to disappoint them.”

Then he grips my jaw gently, tilting my head up before sealing his mouth over mine. The kiss turns deeper. Needier. Tongues sliding together as months of tension unravel all at once.

A collision of fire and want.

When he finally pulls back, he catches my lower lip between his teeth before releasing it. His mouth drifts back to my neck.

“You smell incredible,” he murmurs against my skin. “Like citrus and wildflowers. I can’t get enough of you.”

“I’ve wanted you for days,” I whisper against his ear.

Thane groans. “I know.”

I laugh softly against his neck, remembering how justwatchinghim walk that morning after meeting his father hadmade my knees weak.

Thane pulls back just enough to look at me, his breathing rough.

“Are you sure?” The restraint in his voice is fraying fast. “Because I don’t think I can hold back much longer.”

But his body betrays him anyway. He rolls his hips against mine again—harder this time. A silent plea. A question he already knows the answer to.

My hand glides down the front of his shirt, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath the fabric.

His chest rises and falls with the same desperate need burning through me.

I drag my hand lower, savoring the way his body tenses beneath my touch, until I finally press my palm against him through the fabric of his trousers.

“Does that answer your question?” I murmur, my voice low and daring.

Thane growls, and drags his hand along the inside of my leg, still hooked over his hip. His fingers find the slick heat waiting for him.

He hums in low satisfaction.

“Fuuuck . . . you’re dripping,” he murmurs.

He presses his forehead to mine, breathing me in, his thumb teasing just lightly enough against my inner thigh to make me shudder.