Gosto’s thumb traced the seam of my lips, featherlight yet deliberate. Instinctively, I parted them, the smallest gesture betraying my longing for more. My heart pounded like a war drum, each beat louder than the last. My breath quickened, shallow and desperate. Whatever he intended I was ready. No, more than ready.

I ached for it.

For him.

I met his gaze, those dark, obsidian eyes now licked with flickers of red flame. Heat radiated from his stare as it drifted lower to my ...