Lumberling savored Vaenyra's lips, warm, soft, tasting faintly of strawberry and midnight air. Her scent lingered, floral, earthy, feminine, curling into his senses and threading deep into memory.
When they finally pulled apart, breath brushing breath, Vaenyra blinked slowly, as if coming down from a spell. Her usual sharp poise faltered, and in its place bloomed something almost foreign, shyness.
Her cheeks carried a faint flush, emerald eyes darting away, then back, then away again. She tucked a strand of blue hair behind her ear, lips still parted like she might speak, but said nothing.
Then she smiled. Just a little. Just enough.
And without a word, she turned and left him standing there, moonlight catching the edges of her silken steps, the sway of her hips full of confidence again, but something new lingered in the way she walked. Something less guarded.
Lumberling exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
