They laid her down on the bed with reverent care, as though she were something precious and fragile instead of a supernatural Queen who could hold her own in political battles and physical confrontations.
"Just relax," Damian murmured, his hands already working the last of her clothing free. "Let us take care of everything."
Eve wanted to protest that she wasn't that tired, that she could participate, but exhaustion was pulling at her and the idea of just surrendering completely was dangerously appealing.
"Okay," she said quietly. "I'm yours. Do whatever you want."
All three of her mates groaned at that.
"Dangerous words," Damon said, his eyes going dark. "Giving us carte blanche like that."
"I trust you," Eve said simply.
The words hung in the air for a moment, weighted with everything they meant. Then Silas was kissing her...slow and deep and absolutely thorough.
