The tension in the room had been building like a storm front, electric and inevitable. Marcus's hands had begun their familiar exploration of Samantha's body, tracing patterns of ownership and desire that her hybrid senses amplified into waves of sensation. Her breath had quickened, her body responding with the muscle memory of countless nights when surrender had been as natural as breathing.
But just as Marcus's lips found the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder—just as her body began to arch into his touch with the desperate hunger they'd both been suppressing—exhaustion hit her like a physical blow.
Her knees buckled without warning, and if not for Marcus's supernatural reflexes, she would have collapsed to the ornate carpet. Instead, she found herself caught against his chest, her vision swimming as her body reminded her in no uncertain terms that magical battles, time loops, and dimensional transport had consequences that desire alone couldn't override.
