I want you mother - 1

At first, the sight filled him with rage—how dare they, here, in the open, as if the world around them didn't matter. His jaw clenched, his fists balled at his sides, nails digging into his palms.

But as his eyes lingered on the curves of Leanna's body, as he saw Aragon's hands possessively roaming over her, that anger morphed into something else.

A desire—twisted and shameful—stirred within him. He could feel the heat rising in his body, his mind betraying him as he stared, unable to tear his eyes away.

His hand, almost of its own accord, moved down to his linen pants, rubbing slowly as he watched them, his breath growing heavier and more ragged.

The sight of his mother's lips entangled with Aragon's filled him with a sickening mix of jealousy and arousal, and before he could stop himself, his hand moved faster. The tension within him mounted, his body betraying every rational thought, every moral boundary.