His eyes darkened further at my words, the silver-blue nearly swallowed by expanding pupils. "Are you certain? Once this line is crossed..."
"I'm sure," I cut him off. "The lines were crossed a long time ago for all of us. The Library made that clear."
He searched my face for a moment longer, then nodded, a decision clearly made. When he spoke again, his voice had changed, taking on an authoritative edge I'd only heard hints of before.
"Then come inside," he stepped back and guided me from the balcony into my bedroom. "And I'll show you exactly what I've been suppressing all these months."
The shift in his demeanor sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine. This was yet another side of Fenric, one I had glimpsed rarely and always wanted to see more of. As the door to the balcony closed behind us, he turned me to face him, his hands firm on my shoulders.
"If we do this," his voice was low but commanding, "we do it my way. I need control, Winter. Can you give me that?"
The question sent heat pooling low in my belly. "Yes," I nodded. "I trust you."
Something like wonder flashed across his face at my words. Then his expression settled into determined focus, his hands moving to the buttons of my blouse.
"No magic," he instructed as he methodically unfastened each button. "No prophetic energy. Just you and me, as we are."
I nodded again, already breathing faster as his knuckles brushed against my skin with each button released. When my blouse hung open, he pushed it from my shoulders, his eyes dark with appreciation as he took in the blue markings that swirled across my skin, now visible against the simple cotton of my bra.
"Beautiful," he traced one glowing line from my collarbone to the swell of my breast. "Even your prophetic markings have a certain symmetry, an elegant structure."
His touch sent sparks of pleasure skittering across my skin. I reached for him, wanting to feel him too, but he caught my wrists in a gentle but firm grip.
"No," he shook his head. "I said my way, remember? Hands at your sides until I tell you otherwise."
The command in his voice sent another wave of heat through me, surprising in its intensity. I let my arms fall obediently to my sides, and was rewarded with a small smile of approval.
"Good," he purred, his fingers moving to the fastening of my pants. "Now step out of these."
I complied, kicking off my shoes and stepping out of my pants as he pulled them down my legs. Standing before him in just my underwear, I felt vulnerable yet strangely powerful, knowing how deeply he desired what he was seeing.
Fenric circled me slowly, his gaze appreciative but analytical, as if cataloging every detail for future reference. When he completed his circuit, he stopped directly in front of me, close enough that I could feel his breath on my face.
"On the bed," he directed, his voice soft but brooking no argument. "Lie back against the pillows."
I moved to the bed, settling myself against the headboard as instructed. The blue markings pulsed brighter with my increasing arousal, casting gentle light across the bedcovers.
Fenric remained standing, his eyes never leaving mine as he methodically unbuttoned his own shirt. Each revealed inchof skin made my mouth go drier, the controlled pace of his undressing both maddening and thrilling. When he removed his shirt completely, I saw the blue mark over his heart, matching one of my own markings perfectly.
"May I touch it?" My hand hovered above my own body, respecting his earlier command.
He considered for a moment, then nodded. "You may touch the mark. Nothing else."
I reached out, my fingers brushing lightly over the symbol on his chest. The moment I made contact, a surge of connection flowed between us, deeper than physical, more intimate than a mere touch. Fenric's breath caught, his eyes momentarily closing at the sensation.
"Enough," he caught my hand, gently but firmly returning it to my side. "That's not what I have planned for tonight."
He continued undressing, removing his slacks with the same methodical precision he applied to everything. When he stood in just his underwear, I could see the clear evidence of his desire straining against the fabric.
"You're staring," his voice held a hint of amusement.
"You're worth staring at," my eyes traveled over his lean body. He wasn't built like Rook's powerful frame or Zane's athletic physique, but there was an elegant strength to him, a contained power that was uniquely attractive.
Fenric moved to the bed, settling beside me rather than over me. His hand cupped my face, turning me toward him for another kiss, this one deeper and more demanding than before. His other hand trailed down my neck to my shoulder, then lower, skimming over the fabric of my bra.
"I've imagined this," he moaned between kisses. "More times than I care to confess. Less than is obvious from how I look at you."
"You hide it well," I gasped as his fingers found the clasp of my bra, releasing it with expert precision.
