Raellyn’s fingers curled timidly around the length of something that had stiffened beneath her touch. It was the first time in her entire life she had ever held something so hot, so alive like steel set aflame. Her breath hitched as Arnav clenched his jaw, a low groan escaping him when her fingers dared to move with the lightest pressure, tracing the unfamiliar heat with hesitant curiosity.
“You like my touch, don’t you, sir?”
“Raellyn.” Her name came out barely a whisper, a throaty plea that curled into the space between them like smoke. But the way he said it fragile, restrained, desperate felt like an urgent call for her to fill the aching void that lived somewhere deep inside him.
“You want this?” she asked again, her voice a blend of innocence and provocation, while the man beneath
