Rodion's voice cut through, urgent but not loud, slicing into the haze of their shared intensity like a blade through fog. Thalatha and Mikhailis froze, their lips still locked, breaths mingling in the slot's dim air. The urgency in Rodion's tone tugged at her instincts, but the heat of Mikhailis's mouth, the lingering taste of him, held her for a moment longer. Not yet, she thought, her body reluctant to let go, the fire in her core still burning. They didn't stop immediately—instead, they kissed for another five seconds, as if their lives depended on it, a desperate, hungry clash of lips and tongues.
