As the fabric fell away, the scent of him hit her—woodsmoke, cedar, and the salt of his skin, intensified by the searing heat of his curse. His erection was already there, thick and pulsing with a life of its own, radiating a warmth that felt like standing too close to a forge. A faint, white steam began to rise from his skin where the cool air hit his overheated body.
Vera leaned forward, her copper hair brushing against his stomach, and pressed a lingering, open-mouthed kiss to the base of his shaft.
Kassian let out a sharp, sudden exhale above her—halfway between a gasp and a growl.
"Your Majesty?" one of the soldiers asked, pausing in his report. "Are you alright? The room... It's getting exceptionally hot."
"The curse is... agitated today," Kassian rasped, his voice vibrating through the desk and into Vera's skull. She could feel the vibration of his vocal cords in her very marrow. "Continue. What did the merchant from the Silk District say?"
