Alaric's hand moved with a possessive rhythm, and Julian found himself leaning into the touch, his initial fear dissolving into a desperate, needy sort of longing.
The Duke placed him down on the seat, and watched him from above, his thumb brushing his lower lip. Julian's eyes were hazy, his lips swollen and red, his hair a mess of dark silk against the seat.
He placed his hand on the Duke's chest, as if trying to keep him away so he could catch his breath.
Julian's breath came in short, jagged hitches. He felt Alaric's heart thudding against his palm, a wild drumming that signaled the Duke was just as affected, just as lost in this storm as he looked at him.
Alaric's gaze was scorched with a mix of reverence and raw hunger. He reached up, smoothing a stray lock of hair from Julian's forehead with a trembling hand.
"Right now, Julian, I feel I might scare you away." He said, and Julian parted his lips, feeling a warm tingle in his chest.
