Behind Lucien, the air began to shimmer.
Dust that had been lazily drifting through the room suddenly started glowing green. Tiny emerald specks of light swirled together until the image of a fox appeared.
It sat gracefully to the left of the table, its fluffy tail elegantly curled around its body, watching Lucien with an almost amused expression.
Mirabelle, who was currently drifting somewhere far beyond reality, didn't notice it at first.
Her body was hot.
So unbearably hot that she wanted nothing more than to tear off her clothes.
But she knew it wouldn't help. The heat wasn't outside. It was inside her.
Beneath her skin.
Every touch of Lucien's fingers. Every movement of his tongue stoked the fire burning inside her.
By now, she no longer cared how loudly she moaned or whether anyone could hear her.
Her legs pressed against Lucien's hands.
Her toes curled around the edge of the table.
She felt as though she were falling...
