The silence that followed was thick—charged, trembling. Valen’s chest still rose and fell in deep, uneven waves, the flush of release painting his skin in hues of want and reverence.
Seraphine lay above him, her body draped over his like silk. Her fingers brushed his chest idly, a faint smile curving her lips.
But then, Valen moved.
In a blink, she was beneath him.
A gasp caught in her throat, and her back hit the cool sheets as he loomed over her—his body caging hers in, his eyes dark, molten, unblinking.
“You think you’re the only one who can worship?” he murmured, his voice a low thunder of restraint.
His hands cupped her jaw gently, his thumbs brushing her cheekbones with reverence. “Do you have any idea what you do to me, Seraphine? What you just did?”
She opened her mouth, but
