Page 203 of Elemental Becoming

“Hmm?”

“Don’t.”

I shift slightly—just enough—and his reaction is immediate. His fingers flex harder against my skin. Tension flickers along his neck before he reins it back in.

I grin, slow and wicked.

“Oh?” I purr. “Is something wrong, Lord Caelum?”

“You do not want to play this game.”

“I think I do.”

A spark flashes in his eyes, his gaze sharpening like flint striking steel. “You won’t win.”

I arch a brow. “You sound nervous.”

“I’m not.”

I trail my fingers down his chest, teasing. His muscles tighten beneath my touch, but he doesn’t move or give in.

Instead, he exhales a deliberate breath. His fingers gently squeeze my waist, holding me exactly where I am. His eyes lift to mine, unblinking and full of intent.

And just like that, I know I’m not the one in control here.

“You want me to lose control?” he murmurs, his voice roughwith amusement and restraint.

My breath catches. “Yes.”

“Oh, Amara, darling.” His thumb traces lazily along my hip. “If I actually lost control, you would regret asking for it.”

My pulse stumbles while his grin widens.

“Which is why,” he adds smoothly, “I suggest you rethink your strategy.”

In a blink, he rolls us, pinning me beneath him with maddening ease. I gasp, struggling instinctively, but his weight is solid. Inescapable.

“You think control is easy for me?” he growls, his lips brushing the base of my throat. “You think I don’t feel this just as much as you do?” His hands slide lower, entirely too distracting. “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to lose control with you. Since the moment I saw you in that village.”

My pulse is a war drum in my chest.

“Then do it,” I whisper. “Lose it.”

“No.” His lips graze my ear. “Because once I do, I won’t stop.”

Is that a promise? A warning? Or a glimpse of the fire—and the shadow—he keeps locked away?

Whatever it is, I want it.

All of it.

I want to see the Warlord of the Fire Clan—the man who is always composed, always controlled—finally let go.

“You think you can handle me losing control?” His voice is measured, almost effortless. But beneath it, I can feel the tension coiling like a live wire.

“Absolutely,” I breathe.

And I mean it. Whatever he’s holding back, whatever he’s afraid of, I want it.