Page 264 of The Dryad Storm

Or’myr’s expression takes a turn for the mischievous. “So, you’ll need to spell out exactly what type of ‘connection’ you’re looking for.”

Instantly flustered, Tierney side-eyes him. “Youknow...”

Grinning now, Or’myr crosses his arms. “Describe it for me.In detail.”

“Have you met me?” Tierney sputters. “You know I can’t do that!”

Or’myr’s grin doesn’t budge. “I think you’re going to have to try.”

And then he gives her a look so full of love, her giddy desire for him rises, love for him and his embracing sense of humor welling in her power. She shoots him a sultry look. “Wonderful Or’myr, help me rescue the Zonor River, and I’ll ‘dance around your oak tree.’?”

He laughs, casting her a look of heated mischief. “Oh, you’ll dance around it regardless.” He leans close, his voice pitched low when it comes. “I know you’re feeling this moon’s crazy pull just like I am. And I know what you like. You just can’t bring yourself to ask for it.”

“That is true,” Tierney staunchly agrees as that familiar, strong spark of heat lights between them. “I cannot.”

“Just say it,” Or’myr coaxes. “?‘Sweet Or’myr, I want to have sex with you under the Xishlon moon.’?”

Tierney gapes at him as her tingling desire gathers in her power, everything in her lit up by the promise of a Xishlon evening spent in his arms. His glorious body wrapped around hers, along with his purplefire.

Holy ever-loving Vo on High.

Or’myr laughs as he studies her, giving her a slightly incredulous look. “We have been wed formonths. You really can’t just out-and-out ask for this?Still?”

Tierney purses her lips, her thoughts scrambling into mortification over the idea of asking for what she can picture all to clearly, her water aura now rushing wantonly around his tall form.

Or’myr’s grin widens. “You are bonded to the greatest River in all of Erthia. You holdmonumentalpower. Yet you cannot even say the wordsex.” He shakes his head and mutters “The power of culture” under his breath.

“Sex,” Tierney throws out defiantly as the temptation to fling herself at him mounts.

Or’myr’s eyes spark with friendly challenge. “What about it?”

Tierney blows out an exasperated breath, her flush heating to a scald. “You’reimpossible.”

“And you’re turning an even more enticing shade of purple. Which only makes me want to sex you up and down even more thoroughly.”

“Or’myr!”

“Would you like to have a cup of Xishlon tea instead?”

Tierney’s overheated water aura breaks free and storms around him in a grasping caress. “Get over here, you tease.”

Or’myr steps back. “Tell me what you want, my beautiful, wonderful Asrai.”

Lit up by the compliment, Tierney draws a long, measured breath. “Sweet, magnificent Or’myr,” she formally states, unable to suppress her smile, “please bequeath me with your attentions.”

He gives a short laugh. “Myattentions?”

She mock-glares at him, even as her heart picks up speed. “Your wand of stone?”

Lightning crackles through his eyes. “Better.”

“Your glorious rod of geopower?”

“Getting there.”

Tierney bites her lip, both so heatedly turned on and so mortified, she can feel her tongue tying itself into more and more intricate knotwork.

Or’myr’s look of amusement turns adoring. “You are a verbally repressed enchantress, do you know that?”

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