As their hands connected, Soraya felt something electric shoot up her arm—not painful, but warm—like her veins had suddenly flooded with zinging energy, making her skin tingle in a rather pleasant way.

“This way, Love,” Lestis said, pulling her closer and threading her arm through his.

She gripped his clothed bicep, the material soft against her fingertips. “Why, you’re quite the gentleman, Lestis,” Soraya declared with a smile, collecting her clutch in her other hand.

His lip tugged up at that. “Manners make the male.”

Well, that’s one way to say it, she supposed.

He led her away from the bar and toward the side of the room, where a set of brown double doors stood.

A spike of anxiety bloomed in the back of her mind as they approached the doors. She clung closer to him as he pushed them open, leading her into a hallway.

The hallway had red floors, a red ceiling, and a red wall to the right with sconces high on the wall. On the opposite side was a wall made of bronze latticework, with wooden doors spaced evenly along its length.

“Why did we leave the restaurant?” Soraya asked as she looked back the way they came. Her hand tightened on her clutch purse. Where was he taking her?

“I thought we could have a more private setting, away from prying eyes,” he responded smoothly, reaching for one of the doors to their left.

Soraya vaguely recalled the sensation of being watched as they left the restaurant, but she had been too preoccupied with her sudden spike of anxiety to care.

As they stepped into the new space, it took her eyes a moment to adjust to the dim lighting. She spied a cozy nook with a floor seating area, complete with a U-shaped sofa and a low wooden table at its center. Colorful, decorative rugs covered every inch of the stone floor, and oversized, tasseled pillows were scattered about, adding to the private ambiance.

Beside the lattice wall and wooden door they had entered through, the walls on either side of them were made of the same material as the hallway, adorned with thick colorful tapestries. The wall opposite them was also constructed from metal latticework, draped with gauzy curtains that swayed on a gentle breeze.

Soraya stood still for a moment as a soft breeze whispered through the lattice, making the sheer curtains flutter. Her gaze snagged on something just beyond them…

There was a door hidden within the metal lattice.

A memory started to form, but before it could come entirely to fruition, Lestis gently tucked one of her unruly curls behind her ear, the touch startling her.

“Please, make yourself comfortable, Soraya. I will be but a moment,” Lestis informed her.

Snapping out of her daze, she turned in time to see the door closing in her face as he shut it gently behind him. The lingering scent of jasmine and sagebrush drifting in the air.

“Okay, then,” she mumbled under her breath, shifting uncomfortably on her feet. The memory of his fingers brushing behind her ear still burned hot against her skin.

She didn’t like the idea of being left alone in this room. Glancing back at the lattice door, a wave of unease swept over her.

Blowing out a breath, she tapped her clutch against her thigh, telling herself to get a grip. This anxiety wasn’t because of Lestis—she was sure of that. She was a grown woman, and if he ever made her uncomfortable, she’d leave. Simple as that.

So why was she still hesitating to stay?

Her gaze flicked back to the door before she looked away again. If she wanted to leave, she could. Nothing was keeping her here.

Her stomach growled. How was she still hungry after she devouring an entire meal, she had no clue.

She quietly scoffed to herself. Turning on her heel, she made her way to the yellow floor sofa adorned with dark blue, fringed pillows, her steps near silent on the rugs. Throwing herself down on the plush fabric cushion, the ends of her dress fluttered around her.

Leaning back, she tucked her legs under her, heels pointing to the side wall, and settled in to wait for Lestis.

Then, curiously, the scent of sand and roses tickled at her nose as a dry, hollow breeze whispered faintly through the latticework.

Sniffling, she opened her clutch and pulled out her phone to keep her mind occupied. Scrolling through her school email, she found a few introductory messages from her professors. Not quite ready to dive into pre-class assignments, she switched to her text messages instead.

None of her three friends had reached out, and though she felt tempted to message them, she figured they were all busy preparing for the week ahead. With a sigh, she slipped her phone back into her clutch just as the door from the hall opened.

Perking up, she watched as Lestis entered, dangling two empty wine glasses by the stem in one hand, while holding a curved beige box in the other.

“I was just wondering where you went off to,” she said, slightly relieved at his presence.

“Apologies for the wait, Soraya. I had to track down a dessert that I think you would particularly enjoy.” He closed the door behind him, and the familiar scent of jasmine and sagebrush filled the space, making her shift in her seat.

He did that just for me?

Arching a brow, she gave him a playful look. “Tracked down just for me, huh? How do I know you don’t use that line on every lady who scarfs down your dinner?”

He smiled. “If I gave you the answer to that, would it stop you from trying it?”

Soraya pursed her lips.

Lestis continued smoothly, “I could always take it back—”

“And deprive me of my sweet treat?” She huffed, crossing her arms in front of her. “If you do that then I will have to take back my comment about you being a gentleman from earlier.”

His lips twitched, as if suppressing a smile. Setting down the mysterious parcel and wine glasses, he mused, “Well, I can’t have that, can I? My reputation would be in complete ruins after all these years.”

Pleased, Soraya uncrossed her arms and was just about to ask about the wine glasses when he reached behind him, producing what looked like a glass bottle of champagne from his back pocket. In the dim light, the golden liquid looked to be glowing.

She batted her eyelashes at him. “Wow, you’re really going all out here. Is there any particular reason why?”

“Because it will give me pleasure to treat you to some of life’s little delights,” he answered simply, his gaze heavy as it flicked toward her before returning to his task.

That casual glance sliced through her defenses, but Soraya managed to maintain her composure, resisting the urge to squirm in her seat.

Sitting down beside her, Lestis reached for the bottle of wine. With a fluidity that sparked a flicker of envy, he popped the cork and poured smoothly into both glasses in a single, effortless motion.

Handing her a glass, which she accepted graciously, he leaned back in the sofa, one knee propped up. He settled his wine glass atop his knee, while his other hand draped casually over the back of the sofa, just behind her.

She was acutely aware of the warmth of his presence surrounding her—and she didn’t mind it one bit.

Bringing the glass to her nose, she inhaled the aroma. A delicious, semi-sweet toastiness drifted up, tempting her. Taking a sip, she savored the sparkling liquid as it bubbled across her tongue, her taste buds lighting up with a symphony of light, nutty notes wrapped in smooth vanilla undertones.

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“Oh my God,” Soraya groaned. “Holy shit. What is this?”

Lestis raised his glass slightly, “This is Solaris demi-sec, from Aurea Vinea.”

Soraya hummed and looked at him with a smile. “You just said a lot of words I don’t understand.” She certainly wasn’t a wine connoisseur. “But it sounds delicious.”

He laughed quietly under his breath. “Then you’ll be pleased to know it’s from the Frugifera Late Harvest Collection.” He swirled the sparkling, glowing liquid in his glass before taking a slow sip.

“Mm-hmm, I know some of those words.” Soraya nodded her head. “Is the mysterious dessert also from this late harvest collection?” she asked cheekily. Her stomach was dying to know.

A smile tugged at his lips. Setting his glass down on the low table, he reached for the beige parcel he had brought, leaning closer to her in the process. The aroma of jasmine and sagebrush caressed her nose.

Subtly, her knees pressed together, and the cool fabric of the dress slid across her legs, tickling her skin.

Soraya's back straightened as Lestis slid the parcel closer to the table’s edge. She eyed it curiously, noticing the parcel’s top was twisted in a spiral, like a dumpling. With a deft flick of his wrist, the parcel unfurled like a blooming flower, the soft flaps drifting gracefully to the table. She had never seen anything like it before.

At its center sat a pie with a golden-yellow custard filling, drizzled with an amber-hued syrup. It was no larger than the palm of her hand.

The fragrance that wafted from the pie was a tantalizing blend of sweet cream mixed with fresh, floral honey. Delicate and inviting.

Her mouth flooded with saliva.

She waited for him to produce something to cut the pie with, but instead, she watched as he lifted it to her lips.

“Take a bite. Let me know if it’s also to your taste, Soraya,” he said, his voice low and inviting.

Her gaze met his, and she felt the intensity of his stare, causing her to shift her hips slightly. A knowing look flickered in his eyes.

Turning her attention back to the pie, she took his wrist—which he allowed—and guided him, along with the custard pie, to her mouth. Closing her eyes, she took a bite of the soft treat.

The first sensation to cross her lips was the smooth, breaded crust that yielded easily beneath her teeth, followed by the fluffy custard that melted in her mouth. The honey drizzled on top added a sweet contrast to the sharpness of the lingering champagne, creating a delightful balance of flavors.

Leaning her head back against his arm, eyes still closed, she moaned as the delicate sweet custard wrapped its way around her tongue, the amber honey melting against the roof of her mouth.

Then she caught a whiff of something far more enticing. Turning her head, she breathed in the fragrant notes of jasmine and sagebrush as she chewed.

An arm wrapped around her.

“How does it taste?”

Lestis's question took a moment to register in her mind. Fluttering her eyes open, she locked eyes with him just as she swallowed.

“It’s nothing like anything I’ve tasted before,” she said dreamily. None of the food she had tonight compared to anything she’d experienced before—except maybe the two drinks she had at Midnight Jungle and the hotel shortly after.

“Moon-honey cream, made by the chefs of Sirocco Halls, is quite the delicacy,” he agreed, bringing the pie to her lips for another bite. “Of course, I am biased; no other region could ever compare. Open.”

She kept her gaze on his as she took another bite, his eyes flicking to her lips as she poked her tongue out to swipe at a stray crumb.

Thinking as she chewed, she asked after swallowing her second bite, “Moon-honey cream? What is that?” He said it like it was a common dessert, but she’d never heard of it.

Raising a single brow, he questioned back, “You’ve never heard of moon-honey?”

She shook her head. “Is it a common dessert?” Maybe it was outside of America, she didn’t know.

Lestis furrowed his brows and cocked his head. “Is this your first time tasting moon-honey?” He sounded genuinely mystified.

“It is. I’ve never even heard of it before,” she confirmed, her head still laid back on the sofa atop his arm. She hadn’t realized how close they had gotten, but she felt rather comfortable, so she didn’t bother to move.

Curiosity flashed through his eyes. “How old are you, Love?”

“Twenty-six.”

His eyebrows shot up at that. “You’re so young to the world. I’m surprised you know anything,” he teased.

She scoffed. “And just how old are you?” She couldn’t imagine he was more than thirty-five himself. How much more could he possibly know than her?

His lips did that twitching thing again, as if he was trying to keep his amusement to himself. “I’ve made it to 233 years.”

She snorted, and when she saw how serious he was being, she couldn’t help but laugh in his face.

“I don’t see what’s so amusing about that, love. But—” Soraya covered her mouth when a snort-laugh escaped her. “You’re laugh is quite charming.”

She playfully slapped his chest. “Don’t make fun of my laugh, old man.”

“Old man?” he asked chuckling. “I suppose to you, I’m ancient.”

Soraya nodded her head. “Oh yeah, there’s no doubt about that, geezer. I’m surprised you managed to get out of bed this morning.”

He smiled then, laughing not in that polite or amused way he had been sharing with her all evening, but a genuine warmth that revealed his white teeth, his incisors scraping against his bottom lip. She found it charming—and his husky laugh ignited a warmth deep within her.

Not holding herself back, she placed a hand on his chest and leaned in to place a light kiss the corner of his mouth.

Pulling back just a fraction, she looked at his lips before bringing her eyes to meet his.

His smile slowly faded as his hand moved to the back of her head. Gripping her hair loosely, he pulled her in for another willing kiss.

His hot mouth brushed against hers, and her tongue—with a mind of its own—darted out to run across the seam of his. Lestis closed the distance and fused their mouths together, catching her tongue, he sucked on it gently. Each sucking kiss stoked the warmth between her legs, and she could feel her arousal begin to pool between her legs.

Her breath shook as he pulled away, trailing kisses along her jaw.

A blast of wind hurled its way through the room, ripping at the gauze curtains and making them rattle against the metal rod they hung on. Soraya jerked at the sound, getting to her knees as if she was about to bolt. Her heart thundered in her chest, and her wide eyes fixed on the lattice door, its looming presence had never truly left her mind.

“Love?” Lestis’s seeking gaze pulled her attention.

She realized how insane she must look, jumping at the wind. “I’m not usually this jumpy, and it has nothing to do with you,” she hurried to clarify. “I just…” She trailed off.

His eyes softened a fraction as he noticed the shadow of fear flicker across her face. “It’s okay, Soraya. It’s just Zerif’s winds. You don’t know—being so new to life—but they’re quite frequent this time of year,” he teased, trying to help put her at ease.

It worked. Rolling her eyes, she scoffed, “Oh yeah, what else don’t I know?” Still on her knees, she gave him a defiant glare, placing her hands on her hips.

His eyes dropped down her body before darting back up to her face. “You’d look better without that scrap of fabric wrapped between your legs.”

Soraya’s defiance slipped; she hadn’t expected him to say that. “Oh, yeah?” she asked in a husky voice. Standing fully, she looked down at him. “Then take them off and let me decide that for myself.”

A slow smirk spread across his lips. Soraya thought since he had been giving her orders all night, it was finally his turn to do something she wanted.

“With pleasure.”

Placing his hands near her ankles, just above the strap of her heels, he trailed his hands up her legs, dragging the dress as he went. Between the fabric of her gown and his calloused hands, she shivered and shivered again when he brushed against the sides of her sensitive thighs.

The dress drooped down her front, fully exposing her legs to his wandering eyes.

Hands scraping against her hips, he hooked his fingers into the bands of her underwear and slowly slid them down her legs. She felt as the cool air met her hot center, causing her to bite her lip.

He left her underwear where they landed around her feet and leaned back into the sofa, scrubbing a hand down his mouth.

“So—” His eyes trailed over her body, pausing between her thighs briefly before flicking back up to her hers. “How does it feel now, love?”

Maneuvering her heeled feet, she stepped out of her panties. The cool, slick fabric brushed against her backside in an unexpected way. She twisted her hips, making her dress switch around her legs, the fabric tickling her skin. She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s alright.” While she actually loved the feel of the material against her now-exposed skin, she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of teaching her something she didn’t know at “her young age.”

“Turn around,” he ordered.

She crossed her arms.

With patience, he rested his arms on the back of the yellow sofa and looked at her expectantly, his face a blank mask. This was not a man used to being disobeyed.

Interested to see where this was headed, she rolled her eyes and turned—slowly—until she was facing the wooden door. She looked at the latticework and watched as a silent shadowy figure strode by.

“Sit.”

His second command made her back stiffen, but only a moment. With an evil thought, she did as he asked. Bending over, she ensured he got a full face of her ass before sliding down his chest until she parked herself between his legs.

Once she settled between his thick quads, she felt something hard push against her lower back. Smiling to herself, she wriggled her bottom trying to get comfortable, and a dark, promising laugh met her ears.

Grinning, she lounged back against him and rested her head on his shoulder. “Is there anything else you want to order me to do, Lestis?” She was testing him, just to see how far she could push him.

His hand shot up, wrapping around her neck with such causal speed that it froze her in place. He brought his lips close to her ear and, in a deep, sensual voice, murmured, “Oh, Love. If you want to play with me, I can guarantee I will have you crawling by the end of it.”

A pulse of pleasure shot through her clit as her thighs squeezed together. Her arousal had been building slowly, and now, with her underwear gone, she felt her wetness coating her inner thighs, making them slick as she rubbed them together.

A shaky laugh escaped her. “Do you promise?”

A wicked grin slashed across his face, revealing, for the first time, the primal male lurking beneath the façade of the gentleman.