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Allura scowled across the room as the Drule lazily sauntered along the wall beside her study desk.
She huffed, arms drawn close over her chest, pulling the pink chiffon robe tight over her nighty underneath.
“I command you to leave at once.”
Lotor paid the order no mind, continuing to peruse the shelves, marveling at the variety of books. A few in the common tongue, many in what appeared to be High Arusian - a language he had come across before - and many more in other foreign languages.
He paused, a grin twisting on his lips as Allura huffed somewhere in the background. A specific book caught his eye - an old, history tome written in Drulish. Curious, he drew the book out and flipped it open, leafing through the pages.
He quickly noticed the volume was more of a general overview of recent history than anything ancient, or specific. The period it covered predated his father, and he found himself briefly wondering if there were any modern tomes that included his name in the ranks.
“Lotor.”
“I can’t help but notice, my dear,” Lotor spoke quietly as he slid the Drule volume back onto the shelf before withdrawing another book; this one foreign in design. As it fell open before him, he noticed maps and lists - presumably another history book on the planet or area from which the language originated. He paused mid-sentence to return the book, clearly displaying his lack of concern or urgency. “That despite me being in your bedchambers in the dead of night, you haven’t yet called for your friends.”
No sound came from the concerned princess where she hovered in the corner of her room by the closet and the bath. She wouldn’t be able to make it to the front door; they both knew that he was quicker and in just two paces he’d be in the center of the room, catching her before she ever got close. What confused her, however, is he didn’t seem to press his advance when she didn’t try to flee.
More games, she surmised with a scowl.
She muttered something hotly under her breath, turning her gaze away from his skulking form.
Lotor paused and glanced across the dim room at her.
“What do you want,” she deadpanned, knowing full well what his answer would be.
He watched her for a moment longer before grinning impishly, turning back to her bookshelf, eyes dancing over the small curios littering the gaps between books.
“I’ve come to call, of course,” he explained cheerfully, thumbing open another book seemingly at random. Maps. Sketches of fauna. Another foreign language. How many did she know, he found himself wondering. It seemed unlikely she would collect books as a display - no, this was a private library in her bedroom. It was not for show. It was for use.
“Get out you brute. How did you even get in? The alarms didn’t trip.”
“Like a ghost, my sweet,” he teased, only vaguely hinting at the witch’s magic. While he had intended a very swift entrance and exit back through the witch’s portal, that plan had hinged on a very, very angry princess that would make things extraordinarily difficult.
He had reasoned she would scream, punch, kick, claw at him - hell, likely shoot him if her pistol were close enough. He’d have only had seconds before her entire castle descended upon him.
But she hadn’t.
When she had awakened, it had taken her an expected minute to orient herself in the darkness, but for a brief second, there had been a honeyed look on her face that he couldn’t place.
When she had silently stumbled back from him and grappled for her robe, he had only barely caught the flash of a milky thigh disappearing under the pink fabric.
But she hadn’t made a sound. A soft gasp in realization, and low, threatening hisses, but she most certainly did not call out for her friends to come to her aid.
Realizing he had a unique gift of time - at least until the princess screamed - Lotor had taken an interest in exploring her chambers, curious to know more about the seething woman lurking in the corner of her room.
He glided past the bookcase and over the desk nearby, more books scattered around, parchments, pens, and digital implements; all manner of library from paper to holographic surrounded her.
His exploration continued to the second bookcase on the opposite side of the desk.
More books in common, fewer in foreign languages seemed to fill this one. Once more, at random, he tugged a leather-bound volume free and palmed it open to a random page.
His eyebrows shot up immediately and his eyes widened.
Surely he wasn’t seeing -
“I don’t know why you’re here, but you need to get out. Or I’ll call for help.”
“Quite the reader, aren’t you…” he murmured, not raising his eyes from the book as he flipped to another page, rapidly absorbing the text before him.
Another page turn, and he could feel Allura’s eyes narrow on his back.
“I try and keep up with my studies, not as routine as I would like with an invasion happening every few days, you know.”
“Mmhmm,” he only hummed, vaguely processing her words as he turned another page.
Allura shifted uncomfortably.
“...Which book are you looking through anyway,” she asked, attempting to keep her voice disinterested, but utterly failing.
“A very curious one,” he replied, closing the leather book and running his thumb over the spine gently, almost… reverently. “So you’ve read every book here?”
“Of course,” she scoffed, as if he dared insult her studies. Her scowl abruptly vanished when he simply held up the book, a wide grin on his face.
“Even this one?”
The slender woman had looked particularly pale, illuminated by the moonlight streaming through her window, but her skin turned nearly translucent at the sight of the book.
“Put that down,” she whispered, though her voice trembled rather than hissed.
“Oh, I found it quite interesting, especially the part where he touched-”
“Stop,” she begged, clasping her palms over her ears and squatting down on the floor, as if to curl in a little ball.
To his credit, Lotor did stop, surprised by the reaction.
He glanced at the scandalous romance novel out of the corner of his eye before gently setting it on her desk.
“I’ve put it down, Allura,” he murmured quietly, studying her to try and divine some meaning to the strange reaction.
Cautiously, she peeked up toward him, elbows still clasped between her thighs in her uncharacteristic cower. Once assured that the book was, indeed, no longer in his hands, she released a shaky exhale.
Lotor, for his part, couldn’t resist the opportunity.
“More studies, then?”
His grin widened so far the fangs flashed through as her near-translucent pallor darkened to a crimson shade in response.
“You’re cruel, you know,” she accused, cautiously rising to her feet but still somewhat unsteady.
Allura was certain he was going to approach her and he did begin to, but rather than skirting the bed and standing before her, he made himself comfortable on her mattress.
“So you’re just going to… to sit there. On my bed.”
“You could join me.”
Lotor winced internally at the snort that left her tiny body; certain her derision alone could rouse the entire castle.
“That’s a trap,” she muttered darkly, continuing to stay in her corner near two doors she could use to barricade herself.
“No,” he waved his hand dismissively before brandishing a strange, silver-looking wand between his two fingers. Glowing green etchings littered the side and Allura recoiled slightly as the very essence of Witch Hagger oozed from it.
“What in the stars-”
“This is a portal lock,” he explained as if it made all the sense in the world before pocketing the instrument. “I used the witch’s magic to open a gate directly here, and once ready, it’ll open again to return. You would be with me, of course - if this were a trap.”
Allura blanched slightly.
“Ah, yes, and… asking me to come sit beside you while you have that… infernal thing in your pocket is most certainly safe for me.”
“If I wanted to grab you and run, I would have long done it by now,” he explained quietly, the bemused smile still on his face.
“Why… haven’t you?”
“I’ll ask you yet again - why haven’t you called for help?”
Allura sighed, slumping against the wall.
“Because… ...I… kind of want to know why you’re here,” she offered, tugging her robe tighter. “This is a little unusual for you - you don’t usually find a way inside my chambers after fleeing a battle. So. I want to know why - and I doubt I’ll get any answers whatsoever if I raise the alarm. However, if you dare use that thing on me, I won’t hesitate to send them sprinting this way.”
“And you’ll be gone by the time they get that door down,” he added with a grin.
Allura’s jaw clenched.
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. I can put up a fair bit of a fight if I need to, you know,” she sniffed, almost insulted by the prospect. While they both knew he towered over her, was nearly double her weight and likely triple her strength, it was rude of him to write her off so certainly, as if she were no more than a sack of flour to carry.
“I’m well aware, my dear. You are quite the formidable opponent.”
Allura scoffed, rolling her eyes.
“Now you’re patronizing me.”
Lotor blinked in surprise, his smooth words falling short.
“What?”
“It’s rude, you know, to mock someone like that. Especially as you hold them hostage in their own room.”
“...Allura.”
Her gaze slid to meet his harshly, the taut line of her pressed lips all the answer she offered.
“Do you not think you’re a competent fighter?”
Again, her eyes rolled upward and she huffed in frustration.
“What do you want me to say, that I think I could actually win against you in a battle of strength? I’m not a fool, Lotor.”
“No,” he murmured, watching her closely. “I know that.” As much as his easy affirmation of the difference in their skill stung her pride, she appreciated that he didn’t try to humor her. “But matching me in strength is not what makes you a strong and fierce warrior, Allura.”
She grew still, her back straightening slightly as she regarded him fully, confusion etched across her face.
“Even so - I have only held a blade for the last several months. Compared to anyone at all-”
“Months?”
Lotor’s abrupt tone cut her off and she only found herself nodding, dazed by the glittering look in his eyes.
“Allura, for someone who’s only had mere months of practice, you are extraordinary.”
A strange buzz hummed down her spine and quickly dissipated in a cloud of skepticism.
“You know, I didn’t think you to be the lying sort, Pr-”
The words died bluntly on her lips at the lethal look he leveled her with. Satisfied she had dropped the accusation, his lips curled up slightly once more.
“Truly. I was practically born with a blade in hand. But you - have picked one up and wielded it successfully in combat with mere months’ practice. That is no small measure. You are one of the most dangerous warriors I’ve ever witnessed - fearless, too.”
Her cheeks warmed and she felt herself shifting slightly under the heavy gaze.
“I’ve fought countless armies, Allura - and very, very few possess the sheer tenacity that you do. You can train a soldier to be strong. You can teach a soldier battle tactics and sword moves. But honor? Wrath? Determination? Those are innate, my dear, and you court them all in spades.”
Pinpricks crawled up her shoulders and neck; she could practically feel the heat radiating off her body. There was something light and warming about the words; she could sense no lie in them, it was as if the man truly meant every one.
A Drule of his strength and prowess to regard her as a capable opponent? The idea would’ve made her laugh, had he not been watching her with such earnest rapture.
She swallowed.
“That’s… that’s silly,” she mumbled, her voice cracking. She was careful not to accuse him of dishonesty again, but it weighed too heavily on her to accept the compliment. If Lance had been the one to say it, she’d have smiled, teased him and repaid the favor. It would have been a lighthearted joke, something said, laughed over and forgotten.
While she would eagerly classify her friends as strong, loyal and fierce, there was an entirely different level between her compatriots and a man who had lived and breathed war as a sport his entire life. There was no mistaking the truth in his words or the seriousness in his gaze.
“What do you want me to say to that?” She asked the only thing she could.
Carefully, without breaking eye contact, Lotor leaned forward and once more patted her bed near him. In an effort to encourage her, he scooted further to one side, leaving more room between them should she take his offer.
It seemed to work because with a mix of confusion and curiosity, she took one tentative step toward him.
As a sign of good faith, Lotor once more withdrew the magical implement, and after ensuring she was watching, he leaned far to the side to place the item on the nightstand; out of immediate reach. While he would be able to retrieve it if needed, the distance would give her the edge to dodge his grasp and buy her the time to call for help.
The act proved fruitful as she cautiously touched her hip down on the far side of the bed, eyeing him with extreme wariness.
“Tell me why that surprises you.”
Allura blinked in surprise, relaxing briefly.
“I mean, I’ve seen you fight. I feel quite inadequate in comparison.” She fidgeted. “Why didn't you use that… that thing right away? You caught me by surprise, after all.”
“I expected you to alert your guards, but you didn't. And I find myself curious as to why.”
A weak, rue smile touched her lips, a rare display in his presence. She bit down on her bottom lip and averted her eyes.
“I suppose it's fair to say we surprised each other, then. And now here we are.”
Lotor’s earthy chuckle vibrated the mattress beneath them and she couldn't understand why it made her ears feel warmer.
“You're well studied,” he observed, nodding toward the bookshelves.
Allura stilled and followed his eye, leery that he was about to bring up the… less academic text he had discovered.
“So you speak Drulish?” His head snapped back to look at her, a devilish smile on his lips.
She felt her heart hitch slightly and her skin darker.
“I can read it. …roughly,” she hedged.
“Talk to me,” he purred in his native tongue.
Heat shot from her cheeks down her chest and straight between her thighs. She knew the mechanics of his language, but there was something almost ethereal about a native speaker letting the words flow like spiced mead through the air between them.
“A-absolutely not,” she whispered, flushed. “I'm certain it would be completely unintelligible. My speaking skills could rival a toddler and I can only imagine how atrocious my accent is.”
He only grinned wider in response.
Distracted by language and diplomacy, Allura didn’t even flinch back when he leaned closer to her, letting his arm prop him up in the space between them.
“So?”
“So?” She straightened and scowled, leaning closer to meet his challenge, seemingly unaware that the distance he had put between them for her comfort had rapidly vanished, their palms nearly touching on the mattress. “Do you want me to look foolish then? Something to tease me with or… or…” She trailered off, as if suddenly registering that they were nearly nose-to-nose. In the darkness. In her bedroom. … …On her bed.
She swallowed, but refused to yield.
“Tease you?” A snowy eyebrow arched in amusement. A moment passed between them, and at the knowing look and sly grin slowly curling at his lips, Allura realized she had made a mistake. “...Would you like me to?”
“You’re an absolute scoundrel,” she snapped back, body nearly glowing in the darkness. “You know what I meant.”
“Ah - the courageous Princess of Arus, heir to the throne, pilot of the legendary Blue Lion and champion of the people - brought to her knees by the prospect of anything less than artificial perfection in the eyes of another,” he grinned at her.
After a second passed, his smile slipped a bit at the frightened, blank look on her face.
“Gods damn it, that’s actually it, isn’t it?”
Allura wasn’t familiar with the Drulish swear that followed, but the violence with which it left his lips was sufficient to convey the meaning. She expected to feel fear or concern at the sound of the outcry, but somehow the intent did not feel directed at her, and she only turned her head away, unable to meet his gaze.
“I have a lot that hinges on a perfect performance, Lotor. I cannot afford to fail at most things. …I suppose it becomes a habit for all things when that is how you’re raised. ...You start to see your worth as your ability to be... well, good enough at everything.”
Lotor’s anger deflated a little as her words resonated with him. While she sat nearby as a blushing mess over the prospect of stumbling through a few words in a language she was utterly unfamiliar with, he had felt a similar pressure for combat and strength-related expectations.
“Talk to me? I won’t tell a soul,” he pleaded, though an echo of a command threaded the words; a flavor he couldn’t fully expunge from his words.
“First tell me why,” she relented a little, glancing his way hesitantly. “I can’t understand why anyone would want something less than perfect, if not to be an exploitation of some kind.”
“If I told you I could speak High Arusian, what would you say to that, Princess?”
“Why in all that’s holy would you have any interest in that?”
He chuckled and nodded his head once.
“Not the answer I was expecting,” he nodded appreciatively. “But I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. For the sake of this hypothetical - let’s say I have a …passing interest. How would you react?”
“I’d… I’d want to know more, I’d want to know why - do you actually?” Allura hadn’t even realized that in her excitement she had scooted closer to him, turning to rest her knee on the mattress and face him more fully. Lotor was careful not to point this out.
“Hypothetically, yes,” he grinned at her delight.
“I… yes, I’d want to hear, what do you know? Why do you know it? What more do you want to learn? Can you-”
“And if I did, hypothetically, speak to you in your ancestors’ language with anything less than perfect, fluent articulation, would you find that… a weakness?”
“Of course not! I-” Allura froze and Lotor wasn’t entirely sure if she had just understood what he was trying to say or if she had realized just how close she had moved to him.
“Yes?” His tone was low and prodding.
She stayed still, watching him very, very closely, her eyes roving over her face as she chewed on her bottom lip gently. Lotor remained laser-focused on her eyes, worried he might do something that would shatter the truce between them if he paid much attention to her lips.
“I think… I understand you.”
To his credit, Lotor only managed to let the slow smile widen across his face. With the strength of a thousand warriors, he crushed down the fire that erupted inside him at the sound of his peoples’ language on her lips. Ten thousand impulses rushed through his nervous system all at once, all some flavor of consume, the very tamest of which would have been a kiss.
“That was… impressively good,” he choked out as he struggled against instinct.
Allura’s brow creased and she pouted, pink touching her cheeks as she mistook the crack in his voice for a laugh.
“Oh, I know it’s not very good - I’ve really only ever done much reading in it, spoken and written are very different beasts, you know,” she defended.
“I mean it,” he clarified earnestly as his voice smoothed out.
A brief moment of confusion flickered across her face before skepticism replaced it.
“It’s not-”
“Allura.”
She stilled as his weight shifted, his own body closing the remaining distance.
Oh dear.
When had he gotten so close? When had she gotten so close?
Lotor leaned closer, brushing his lips past her cheek as he whispered in her ear. Thigh to thigh, they sat facing each other on the edge of the bed, no distance remaining between them - and still she did not flee. His hands did not cage her, though her own fingers curled tightly into the sheet as if to anchor herself as he spoke.
“It is. You are exceptionally skilled with your languages,” he began, pausing as a shiver ran down her spine. Lotor was passively surprised he hadn’t been clocked in the face just yet, and continued on undaunted.
“I, um, … thank you,” she mustered after a moment, floundering for words with the foreign sensations pinging around inside her body. “I think,” she amended with a heavy swallow.
“Good,” he praised, pleased that she accepted the compliment without much rebuttal. A gentle relief left Allura’s body though the faintest of sighs, she felt herself relaxing slightly, despite the alarmingly scandalous predicament she found herself in.
Her heart skipped slightly when he shifted his weight, bringing one palm up to touch the top of her shoulder lightly. Again - he did not seek to claim it for himself, no grasp nor iron hold, just the slightest of brushes from his gloved fingertips over the satin of her robe.
He dusted over the dainty lacework flaring the edge of the shoulder, and it almost felt like he was studying it - or her.
“You do believe me when I tell you that you’re extraordinarily skilled, right?”
Allura stiffened. Her immediate reaction was to lie through her teeth for several reasons; he did not deserve that information, she was nearly certain accusing him of lying would anger him, and her own pride in the matter.
Instead of a direct answer, she attempted to diffuse the situation before it ignited out of control.
“I’m… I’m trying to,” she finally offered; a weak truth of the matter. She did not fully, but she believed he would expect full compliance. Her heart froze when she felt him grow still, but he did not break the chaste embrace between them. In a way, she was grateful; it somehow felt easier to talk to him when she wasn’t under his insufferable smirk or piercing gaze. In spite of - or was it because of? - the intimacy of their closeness, shrouded in the darkness of her room, it felt more comfortable than most battles had been.
“That’s good,” he murmured against the shell of her ear, nudging his nose against her locks in an entirely too informal way.
Something about the gentle praise from him of all people sent a delightful pulse down her back. A gentle beckoning - for what, she couldn’t quite fathom, but she decided to chase it and abandon her rigid propriety. A strange hope compelled her to be reckless. Just for the chance at relief, that for once, she might be… simply enough. He teased the possibility before her and she found herself wanting to explore it.
Could she ever be enough for someone like him?
“Is it?”
Asking Lotor questions had always earned her more answers than she had wanted. For once, she hoped he would oblige her. He tilted his head back just enough to make eye contact and check her expression.
“I’ll show you - if you let me,” he promised darkly, his eyes glinting in a way that hinted that he might understand better than she thought.
Excitement thrummed through her, heart hammering and skin flushing hot by some unspoken energy that seemed to flow between them. Yes. Her throat constricted and her mouth felt dry.
Yes.
Still, she could not force the word into existence, and instead nodded her head twice so slightly that she was certain he might not even notice.
He most certainly did.
Allura felt the way his muscles went taut around her and she briefly wondered if he was preparing for a pounce or a spring - but he wasn’t. With exaggerated slowness, either for his own sake or hers, she couldn’t be sure, the hand touching her shoulder withdrew. The palm that pressed into the mattress shifted his weight fully onto the bed, kneeling beside her. In two swift movements, he had peeled his gloves off and set them aside somewhere in the darkness. When the bare pads of his fingers returned to touch her shoulders gently, electricity rocked through her even through the cotton and the satin of her nighty and robe.
He hovered close enough that she couldn’t quite catch the expression on his face and was incredibly grateful; she was sure if she caught sight of his smirk, she might lose her nerve.
Both hands skirted down her arms, coming to brush over where her palms curled into tight fists around the sheet.
With a lazy skill, he teased his thumb into the center of the coiled grasp and easily coaxed her hands open, threading his fingers through hers so they rested palm to palm.
Allura’s back collided with the soft mattress and in a single, fluid motion, Lotor was atop her. Carefully. His weight was braced by thighs on either side of her hips, and his palms laced each of hers, resting on either side of her face. Lotor’s nose was never more than an inch from her own, his upper body’s weight braced entirely through his abdominals and thighs.
Despite the harrowing predicament, the princess couldn’t recall a moment she had felt more safe. Even physically; despite having arrived by literal witch’s magic with the intention to carry her off, she did not feel that that was the intention any longer.
“A… alright,” she whispered, finding a scrap of her voice that trembled in the night. She risked the glance to his eyes and was met with a mixture of wonderment and reverence; no hint of a triumphant smirk.
“Just a word, my dear, and you’ll have your space, do you understand?”
Static prickled along her skin and she felt her thighs tighten slightly. She nodded weakly, overwhelmed by the effect his presence was having upon her, stripped from the fear of war and violence, safe from unwanted abductions and undesired advances.
“I need you to tell me that out loud,” he continued at the soft nod she offered. “I need to know that you know that.”
“Y, yes,” she mustered, flushed by the strange authority in his words. It was unlike anything she had heard before, especially from him. Not a command in his usual sense - she would have recoiled and battled against that. This phrasing was confident but calm, radiating control but with a layer of vulnerability beneath it all.
What the hells have I gotten myself into?
Allura realized that, for all intents and purposes, she no longer cared to analyze the situation and try and predict or calculate a movement, but she desired instead to lean into his dance and see where he guided her.
She tilted her chin up toward him, the faintest of offerings yet the boldest of invitations that she could muster.
Lotor bypassed her trembling lips and placed a heavy kiss against the base of her throat instead.
Allura’s eyes popped wide at the unexpected gesture, her heart nearly shattering out of her ribcage as it thundered furiously, his mouth pressed right over the decadent pulse. There was no denying the way she resonated to his touch and she could feel the slow smile of his lips against her skin, sending another shiver down her spine.
“Very good,” he purred against her, eliciting a soft gasp. Something bubbled inside her at the words, sending tingles across her flesh. Her silk robe suddenly felt uncomfortably hot and she parted her lips to inhale deeply in an effort to cool herself. Relief.
“Oh we like that,” his words were a murmur against her skin in Drulish, and she wasn’t entirely sure if they were intended for her or just himself.
“Hn-” Allura wasn’t entirely sure what she was trying to ask him, but the noise decayed into a soft moan.
“That’s a good girl.”
The purr at her ear sent a wave of sunlight thundering through her body, threatening to break her from the inside.
“Gods,” she hissed out in response, startling Lotor. He leaned back and studied her quickly, taking in her body language; her fingers were relaxed between his, her skin decadently flushed, lips parted, breathing heavy - watching him cautiously through lidded eyes… was he missing the mark somehow?
“My dear?”
“What in the stars are you even doing; some more of the witch’s magic?”
She scowled, sprawled beneath him and showing no signs of wanting to be elsewhere.
A slow smile spread across his lips as he leaned in once more. He rolled his forearms still holding her hands slightly so he could brace against them without putting any weight on her.
His chest and hips brushed against hers, still careful not to drop his full weight, as he lowered his lips to her ear once more.
“No magic at all. But you, my dear, have an extraordinary weight on your shoulders, and you carry it magnificently-” He paused briefly in his murmuring when a heated whimper sounded. “But it’s heavy. More so than most can see. You carry it with such ease and grace.” He hummed against her skin beneath her earlobe at the breathy sounds from the squirming princess.
“Good,” he affirmed, basking in the decadent sound of the noise that followed. “Don’t hold yourself back, you deserve everything you desire.” Lotor rubbed his thumbs in a reassuring circle on the back of her palms. He could feel the heat rising from her skin and her scent was intoxicating. “You do so much for so many, some that is seen, but much more that is not.”
He carefully unlaced one of his hands from hers and gently drew it up her arm, over her shoulder and coming to rest very, very carefully on the side of her face opposite his lips, gently brush her hair away. In a moment suspended in time, hidden in her own bedchambers with arguably the last person she should be alone with - she felt… enough.
“You want to be seen. I think... you want to be known.”
A shaky exhale left her lips but her body offered him zero resistance.
“I…”
“Hmm?” He very, very gently nipped at her earlobe, drawing both a startled gasp and a delightful arch to her back as she pressed up into him. In answer, he undulated his own hips teasingly down into hers.
“Do you want to be seen, Allura?”
An unmistakable shiver rolled through her and there was no denying the arousal that radiated from the woman; even the princess herself was beyond trying to hide it.
She nodded weakly.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Good,” he praised once more, her body quivering beneath him at the word.
“And…” He trailed off, the whisper fluttering across her skin. “Do you… want to be known?“
“Please,” she whispered back in Drulish, earning herself a heady groan in response.
After catching his breath, he slid his hand from her temple down her throat, pausing as his thumb brushed against her pulse lightly, noting as her heart continued to flutter.
With deliberate slowness, he kissed against the shell of her ear, teasing out all the soft, decadent noises that he could. A soft nip, a lazy grin… and with the promising weight of his hips sinking heavier against her own, he spoke with a deep, rumbling voice in High Arusian.
“Good girl.”