A laugh bubbled up at Enfys' insistence on being dominant, and Nathan submitted willingly. They stumbled backwards until Nathan's knees hit a chair and he was sitting, then, hand resting on her waist and tugging her into him. The angle was more familiar, his head tipped back to find her lips, his throat jumping at the rush of heat through his veins.
Merlin had always been fire, rushing and controlling and utterly unpredictable. In this he was passionate, in this, when words were taken away, when no one was there to see, he was sweet and willing and they were equals. Too bad, Nimue had often thought, they could not live in the bedroom. There she had found a way to be truly his partner.
This was just a taste of that completeness, of that fire once more that Nathan felt licking along his veins. It was wrong, this. He should stop before it became more than a kiss, more than some misstep he could forget again.
But he, instead, trailed his mouth along her jaw, to her ear, murmuring helpless words of love, of need, in a language he didn't bother identifying. Nimue knew, as did Emrys, and they really were the only ones that mattered now.