His hand, when it finally met her skin, was a revelation. It wasn't the hesitant brush of discovery, nor the demanding grip of possession, but something exquisitely in between – a deliberate exploration, each fingertip trailing with a measured, possessive intent. Ravage's touch began at the delicate curve of her jawline, his thumb gently tracing the subtle upward sweep towards her ear. It was a path he mapped with an almost reverent deliberation, his touch both firm and exquisitely gentle, a contradiction that sent a shiver of exquisite anticipation through Elara. She felt her muscles involuntarily relax beneath the pressure, her head tilting subtly, an unconscious invitation for him to continue. Her breath hitched, a soft sound swallowed by the plush silence of the chamber.
He moved with
