Lyra's heart pounded against her ribs as Percival's weight pressed her into the mattress. His kiss was consuming, desperate, nothing like the controlled man she knew. The drug had stripped away his careful restraint, leaving only raw desire in its wake.
When his hand slid beneath her blouse, his fingers scorching against her skin, instinct took over. She bit down on his bottom lip—hard.
Percival jerked back, shock clearing his eyes momentarily. A drop of blood formed where her teeth had broken skin.
"Lyra..." he rasped, confusion and desire warring on his face.
She seized the moment, pushing against his chest. "Not like this. Not when you're drugged."
His breathing came in harsh pants as he struggled to regain control. After what seemed like an eternity, he rolled away, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes.
"I'm sorry," he managed, his voice strained. "I didn't mean to—"
