Zarius didn't give Cherion a second to think, back out, or try to talk his way out of it.
Before Cherion could even draw a breath to argue about the monarch's massive oil painting staring down at them with cold regal judgment, Zarius's mouth crashed back over his. The frantic hands Cherion had raised to pull his open shirt together lost all their strength, dropping uselessly to clutch at the fabric of Zarius's heavy coat instead.
Zarius broke the kiss just enough to drag his lips down the sharp line of Cherion's jaw. His breath was hot and harsh against the soft skin below Cherion's ear, making him shiver straight down to his toes.
"Zarius..." Cherion gasped, a barely-there, trembling sound. "We really... we shouldn't..."
"Quiet, please," Zarius growled softly against his skin.
