Delilah broke the kiss first.
She pulled back just enough for their lips to part, her breath warm and trembling against his mouth. Her eyes opened slowly, amber and glassy, and she looked at him like she was seeing him for the very first time — not the Young Dragon, not the man everyone wanted or feared, but her man who had knelt for her.
The one man who had built her a sky and asked her to belong to it, heart and soul.
Phei's hands stayed on her waist, steady and patient, thumbs stroking the fabric of her long strapless dress where it had ridden slightly higher on her thighs. He didn't chase her lips. He simply waited, eyes dark with restrained hunger and something far softer, far more dangerous — love.
Delilah's fingers tightened in his hair.
She kissed him again.
This time she didn't hold back.
Her mouth opened over his with quiet desperation that quickly bloomed into something hotter, more romantic, more hungry.
