He withdrew his fingers and his fangs at the same moment. She went limp in his arms, boneless and trembling. He turned her to face him. His lips were stained crimson, his eyes glowing with a feral, possessive light.
“That was only the beginning,” he promised, his voice thick with a hunger that had nothing to do with blood.
In a blur of motion, Caspian swept his arm across the large, heavy oak desk, shoving stacks of ancient books and scattered parchments crashing to the stone floor. The firelight danced across the room, casting flickering shadows that played over Ria's exposed skin as he lifted her effortlessly and laid her back against the cool, unyielding surface of the wood.
Her dress bunched up roughly around her waist, the fabric twisted and forgotten, leaving her lower body bare
