The more Lethia tried to sleep, the more Zeran's actions from earlier in the car haunted her. How could he be so cruel, leaving her unfinished like that?
Lethia bit her lower lip hard, trying to turn the ache into another kind of pain.
She couldn't even tell anymore whether it was because of the baby or her own rising desire. She kept pinching her arm, desperate to distract her thoughts.
Flashback — a while ago, inside the car
Lethia had been caught off guard by Zeran's possessive kiss. It was good—no, it was intoxicating—but…
Even as she got lost in that fevered, wet kiss, gasping breathlessly, her hand slid up to his chest, tapping repeatedly in half-hearted protest until they finally broke apart.
Their breaths collided, wild and shallow, and the fire in their eyes mirrored the hunger they both refused to name.
Zeran's arms tightened around her, pulling her in again to devour her lips, but her hand pressed firmly against his chest.
