Zarius hovered above him, his sheer size difficult to ignore in such close quarters. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he stared down at Cherion.
"You have nowhere left to run, Cherion."
Slowly, Cherion reached upward. He didn't fight to push Zarius off, nor did he make any move to escape the heavy, muscular thigh that was still thrown possessively across his lap. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Zarius's neck, his fingers tangling into the thick strands of the duke's dark hair at the base of his skull. He applied just a fraction of pressure, pulling Zarius down a few agonizing inches closer until their lips were almost brushing, their hot, frantic breaths mingling in the tight space between them.
"Look at you," Cherion murmured. "Your arms are shaking, and you're practically burning alive. You think because you pinned me down, you're suddenly the one in control?"
