[Elora]
Before I could even fully register the shift, Sylas was there. Strong hands, gentle but firm, wrapped around my waist. He lifted me effortlessly from Vernon’s lap, a sudden lightness as I floated for a moment, before being settled onto his own. Now I was straddling Sylas, facing him, my legs on either side of his hips, the soft silk of my gown pooling around me on the bed. His arms instinctively wrapped around my back, pulling me close against his chest.
His lips found mine, a familiar, exhilarating dance of playful demand and eager response. This kiss was pure Sylas—vibrant, a little wild, tasting of triumph and lingering desire. As our mouths connected, I felt Vernon shift beside us, the subtle rustle of fabric, and then the cool brush of air as he shed his shirt. Even without
