Lucan’s gaze darkened as he heard the commotion outside. Let them wait. The world beyond this room ceased to exist as he lowered his head again, his lips finding the soft curve of her neck.

None of it registered past the woman beneath him.

"Let them wait," he growled against her skin, inhaling the intoxicating scent that was uniquely hers. "You’re mine right now."

He trailed his mouth down her collarbone, savouring the way she shivered beneath him. His hands slid down her sides, feeling every delicate curve of her body through the thin fabric of her dress. When his fingers reached her thigh, he hooked them under the hem, slowly pushing the material up to reveal more of her golden skin.

"I need to taste you," he whispered, his voice reverent as he descended lower, planting open-mouthed kisses along her inner thigh. Each touch of his lips seemed to leave an invisible mark, a claim only he could see.

Felicity’s breath caught as he reached the sensitive crease where her thigh met her hip. Her fingers tangled in his dark hair, not pushing him away but anchoring herself as pleasure built within her.

"You’re so beautiful," he murmured, trailing his tongue along the edge of her underwear, teasing the sensitive skin beneath. "Every inch of you is perfect." Following the line where fabric met skin, and the sound she made, a thin, desperate whine caught behind her teeth, almost undid every shred of restraint he had left. He continued, nuzzling against the damp fabric. "And I will argue with anyone who disagrees, including you."

He took her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing each fingertip with deliberate slowness before drawing one into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it with the same passion he wished to lavish on other parts of her body. The intimacy of the gesture made her whimper, her hips arching slightly off the bed.

Outside, voices grew louder, more insistent.

Someone called his name. Lucan ignored it all, his focus narrowing to the woman beneath him.

"Please," she whispered, the word barely audible.

His hand slipped beneath the waistband of her underwear, fingers hovering just outside her entrance, teasing without giving her what she so desperately needed. Her back arched, a small cry escaping her lips as she tried to press against his hand.

"So responsive," he praised, watching her face contort with desire. "My perfect, beautiful mate."

He brushed her hair away from her face with his free hand, marvelling at how the golden strands caught the dim light. "Your hair is like spun sunlight," he whispered, wrapping a curl around his finger.

"Everything about you is a miracle."

"They’re waiting," she managed to say, though her body contradicted her words, hips rising to meet his touch.

"Let them," he replied, lowering his head to kiss her deeply.

"You’re worth any wait."

"Lucan." His name broke apart on her tongue.

"Please, what?" He brushed his thumb in a featherlight circle against her inner thigh, watching the flush spread down her neck and across her chest. "Use your words, little bunny."

"Please," she whispered, and the word barely carried past her lips.

Her back bowed. A small, fractured cry escaped when she tried to press against his hand, and he pulled back just enough to deny her. The frustration that crumpled her face, brow pinched, lower lip caught between her teeth, ears trembling, was the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen, and he’d watched sunrises crack open apocalypse skies.

"So responsive," he murmured, and the praise landed like a physical touch. She clenched around nothing, and a flush burned across her cheekbones. He brushed her hair from her face with his free hand, watching golden strands catch the dim lamplight and scatter it like filaments of raw sunlight. He wound a curl around his finger.

"Your hair is ridiculous," he said softly. "It glows. You glow. I’m reasonably sure you were designed in a laboratory to ruin men like me."

A startled laugh broke through her desperation. "That... that is the worst compliment anyone has ever....

He slid one finger inside her.

"Haaah-" Felicity moaned, her body clenching around him. The sensation was exquisite, both for her and for him as he watched her pleasure unfold. He added a second finger, curling them to find the spot that made her cry out. It was hot, tight, devastating, and the sensation ripped a low groan from his own throat that he couldn’t suppress. He watched her face transform. The way her lips parted. The way her lashes fluttered, and her ears pressed flat against her hair in overwhelmed surrender. He added a second finger, curling them with practised knowledge of her body, finding the spot that made her spine arch and her thighs clamp against his wrist.

He leaned up, capturing her lips in a kiss that started tender and turned filthy within seconds.

tongue stroking deep, teeth catching her lower lip, swallowing the moan that vibrated between them. His fingers never stopped moving. Slow, curling strokes that built pressure in devastating increments.

He pulled back just enough to speak against her mouth, "You’re worth any wait."

Her fox ears perked forward, trembling, and her tail wrapped around his forearm like it had opinions about him stopping.

Another bang on the door, louder this time.

"LUCAN" definitely Victor.

Lucan pressed his forehead to Felicity’s. His fingers stilled inside her, not withdrawing, just holding, a possessive claim that made her whimper and squeeze around him.

"If I don’t answer," he said, conversational, as if his hand wasn’t buried between her thighs, "do you think he’ll break the door down?"

She stared up at him, wrecked and breathless, golden hair fanned across the pillow like a halo made for sinning. "He broke the last one."

"That was Damien."

"Damien broke the wall. Victor broke the door."

He considered this. His thumb traced a lazy, devastating circle against her clit, and she jolted, grabbing his wrist with both hands, not to stop him, but to hold him there.

"Worth it," he decided.

Lucan watched her, cataloguing every micro-expression, every flutter of those traitorous ears, every involuntary clench of her body around his fingers. The possessiveness in his chest wasn’t sharp anymore. It had settled into a deep, permanent ache.