Page 49 of Wicked Depths

But I am not one to let an opportunity for mischief go to waste.

“Nothing to say?” I call after her, my voice dripping with amusement as I trail behind. “I expected more fire from you, Dragon Queen. Maybe some petty threats? Or are you simply going to smolder all night instead?”

She doesn’t respond.

A shame.

So I press.

“Or perhaps,” I muse, stepping just close enough that she can feel the heat of my body, my voice a purr at her back, “you’re realizing how foolish it is to claim what you refuse to touch.”

That does it.

Nyxara spins so fast I barely register it before my back slams into the stone wall of the corridor.

I let out a breathy laugh, reveling in the way she cages me in, her hands on either side of my head, her claws biting into the stone. Her body is inches from mine, heat rolling off her in waves.

Her emerald eyes burn with something dark, something deep and unrelenting.

Possession.

She guides me through the door, into her chambers. The air in Nyxara’s inside is thick, laced with the scent of heated embers and something distinctlyher—a mix of storm-soaked earth and ancient power.

"Did you enjoy yourself back there?" she asks, voice low, lethal.

I smirk, stretching lazily where I sit on the edge of her massive bed, the black silk sheets cool against my bare thighs. "Enjoy myself? Oh, Nyxara, if I had truly wanted toenjoymyself, I wouldn't have stopped at just a few coy words with your general."

Her nostrils flare.

A flick of her wrist, and the iron cuffs snap around my wrists, humming with magic—dampeningmagic. They don’t sever my power entirely, but they weaken it, making it difficult to summon even a whisper of control.

Heat coils in my gut.

"Oh? Binding me already?" I taunt, tilting my head. "I didn’t know you were sodesperateto keep me in your bed."

"You think this is a game?" she breathes, her voice dangerously low.

"Everything is a game," I whisper back, my smirk widening. "And Iloveplaying with you."

A growl rumbles in her throat, her patience fraying, her control slipping.

Good.

Before I can react, she is over me, pressing her body against mine, pinning me down with the sheer heat of her presence. Her thigh slides between my legs, a deliberate motion that makes my breath stutter, makes my pulse hammer.

Goddess.

She is fire—searing, consuming, relentless.

Her nails drag down my collarbone, slowly and deliberately, tracing the delicate lines of the gold chains that drape over my shoulders. The pearls on my bodice shift with the movement, cool against the heat of my skin.

"You parade yourself around my castle half-dressed," she murmurs, her voice silk-wrapped steel, the edge of a blade grazing my throat. Her sharp nail circles the peak of my nipple through the sheer fabric, watching, waiting, as my breath hitches. "Tempting me."

I smirk, tilting my chin defiantly. "Didn’t realize you found me so distracting."

Her lips curve, slow, lethal. "I don’t." She leans in, her breath ghosting against my jaw. "I find you infuriating."

She parts my bodice, the intricate shells and pearls shifting beneath her touch, her claws scraping ever so lightly against my skin. The cool air kisses my exposed flesh, but it's nothing compared to the heat of her mouth as she lowers her head, teeth grazing the soft swell of my breast.

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