Chapter 464: The Cellar’s Heat (1)
Lyan’s lips twitched, a faint, humorless smile. "We all do." He reached for her shoulder, meaning to brush off the comment, but his fingers found the smooth curve of her collar instead, a brief spark of warmth against the cold air. Her skin was warm, her pulse steady beneath his touch. An anchor.
Ravia’s sly smile curved wider. "A breath, or something stronger?" she teased, but there was a gentleness beneath the banter.
He caught her wrist, half in reflex, half intending to chide her—but the warmth of her skin sent a spark through his palm, a slow burn that slipped down his spine. His breath hitched. He saw the shift in her gaze, the way her pupils darkened, how her lips parted just slightly.
Xena’s emerald eyes caught the silent exchange, and something hungry flashed within them. The confined space felt too small, the lantern’s heat too close. Adrenaline still thumped in her veins from the interrogation, and now it twisted into something else—something wilder. She stepped forward, her slender fingers tracing the line of Lyan’s cloak, then the rough stubble of his jaw. "Commander’s too tense," she whispered, her breath warm against his ear.
And then Xena’s lips found his. Soft, eager, her fingers threading into his damp hair, pulling him closer. The heat of her mouth consumed him, and he sank into it, a groan escaping—half protest, half surrender. Ravia’s quiet laugh danced in the background, and then her lips were on his jaw, trailing slow, teasing kisses down his neck.
His back pressed against the cold stone wall, the chill a cruel contrast to the heat radiating between them. Xena’s hand slid under his cloak, fingertips tracing the line of his belt, the curve of his waist. Her touch grew bolder, her lips hungrily tasting his. Ravia’s hands found his other side, slipping beneath his cloak, her touch tracing the hard lines of his chest.
The spy in the chair groaned—a weak, unconscious murmur. But even that distant sound only seemed to tighten the coiled desire between them.
"Xena..." Lyan managed, but his voice was thick, rough. She silenced him with another kiss, her slender body pressing against his, her fiery hair brushing his cheek. Her hand drifted lower, fingers tracing the thick bulge now straining against his trousers.
"Well, well..." she murmured, lips brushing his ear. "Looks like the commander’s still full of fight."