Lucien's pulse was a drumbeat beneath her fingers.
Quick. Unsteady.
Not from fear. From anticipation.
He wasn't fighting. He wasn't smirking.
He wasn't moving.
Taryn had never seen him like this. Still.
Lucien, who always prowled.
Lucien, who always devoured.
Lucien, who took and claimed—
Was waiting now.
His breath stuttered. His jaw tensed. His body—his entire body—coiled tight, every muscle drawn taut beneath her touch.
He was struggling.
Not against Kah'el's hold.
Against himself.
Taryn pressed her thumb just beneath his collarbone, feeling the sharp exhale that tore from his lips.
A sound barely there—low, unsteady.
Gods.
He was already breaking, and she hadn't even started yet.
Kah'el shifted behind him, tightening his grip just slightly. Lucien let out a breath that sounded too close to a shudder.
Taryn dragged her nails lightly down his sternum.