Page 192 of Captive of Secrets and Storms

His cheeks are flushed, and his pupils are blown wide. His fingertips trail up my arms.

I shiver. “What’s going on?”

From the corner of my eye, I note a different server distributing the pink drink to Jason and Daphne, but no one else.

Music swells from an unseen orchestra.

“The contest.” Leto licks his lips and moves his hands down my back, drawing me into his arms. “It’s starting.”

My covered breasts press against his firm chest. My nipples harden, and I bite my bottom lip to hold back a moan.

My magic surges wildly beneath my skin, feeding the unbearable heat unfurling through my body.

Recognition slams into me, followed swiftly by horror.

The effects of the drink take root.

Gods save me…

I’m in heat.

36

There is no other way to describe this unrelenting, primal urge to strip myself naked and sink myself onto the male in front of me. It consumes me.

The correlation between my wanton emotion and the unfamiliar drink skitters from my thoughts like a roach exposed to light.

This sensation…this desire. It’s animalistic. Fierce. And it demands to be experienced. It yearns for release.

One of Leto’s hands glides over my shoulder and down my arm until my palm rests in his. With his other hand still pressed against my back, he pivots and begins to lead me into a dance.

A cyclone of lust wraps around us as we spin in time with the music. The orchestral melody is low, sensuous. Each strum of the instruments plucks at my core. Pulses of heat radiate through me.

I count the flecks in Leto’s brown eyes. Most are gold, but odd hints of aquamarine shimmer in the chandelier light.

The skirt of my gown flares as we move, tangling between the small space that exists between our thighs. Each brush of our legs sends another bolt of lust through my center. My skin pulls tight, sensitive to the air kissing my flesh as we move.

The powder-blue fabric covering my torso feels both tight and loose. Breathable yet stifling. I long to take it off. To bare myself. But a hint of modesty overrides the effects of the delectable pink liquid, ensuring I keep myself covered in a room filled with strangers.

Leto stops our spins and guides me into the steps of a dance I am not familiar with. He moves with effortless grace despite his broad physique and height. My fingers resting on his shoulder press down, savoring the feel of his toned muscle.

“Shit…” He exhales a deep, masculine sigh, tilting his head forward to rest his temple against mine. “I didn’t realize it would be so effective.”

A dulled throb hits my chest. My power, maybe? I ignore the subdued sensation and hum in agreement.

“What is it?”

“The drink is aptly referred to as Lover’s Temptation.” He licks his lips. “It’s an aphrodisiac.”

“I’ll say.” My nose brushes his jaw when I turn my neck and breathe in his clean, yet smoky, scent. “You smell good.”

“And you, Elara,” he growls back, “smell divine.”

An ache grows between my thighs. I push out my chest, desperate to feel him everywhere.

“Kiss me.”

A pained groan passes his lips.