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He kissed his way back up my body, pausing to tease my nipples until I was writhing, hips lifting as I slid my hand down to his cock.
He caught my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm. “I don’t think so.”
One day, I was going to make him beg for me. Lorian smirked at me. “Don’t pout, wildcat. I’ll give you what you need.”
Achingly slowly, he thrust into me, his eyes darkening as he watched me. It felt like he was coming home. Like I was born to be his.
His mouth found mine, his palm caressing my throat, stroking along my pulse point. Our kiss was slow and gentle and deep. He moved, taking his time, and I could feel how much he loved me. And I could feel that he was born to be mine too.
He told me with the way he watched me so closely, adoration mixed with pure possession in his eyes. He told me with the way he brushed my hair back from my face, cupping my cheek as he balanced on his other arm and moved deeper. He told me with the way he paid such careful attention to the change in my breathing as his cock found the spot inside me that made warmth stir in my belly.
He pressed deeper, harder, hitting that same spot again and again. Our movements grew more desperate, his teeth dragging across the skin of my neck as I gasped out his name.
His eyes had turned so dark they were almost black. He stared down at me like he would burn the world for me.
What he didn’t seem to understand was that I would do the same for him.
“Mine,” I gasped out, right as he angled his hips, his pelvic bone stroking my clit.
“Yes, wildcat. Yours. Now, come for me.”
He linked our hands, pressing mine back to the bed as he thrust so deep my breath hitched as I lay poised on the edge.
Another thrust and I shuddered, groaning through a climax that swept through me like wildfire. Lorian pounded into me, drawing it out, until my muscles went lax and he pressed his mouth to mine, trembling as he fell with me.
* * *
My mouth was so dry, I would have paid almost any price for a gulp of water. My hands trembled, and I fought to steady my breathing, leaning into the bark of the tree limb I was sitting on.
The creatures had arrived before dusk. According to Herne’s scouts, some of them had flown toward the camp, and his sentries had picked off a few of them from the trees. Still more of the rebels had been slaughtered as the creatures made their way on the ground.
Herne’s rebels had slid almost soundlessly toward the edge of the forest, close to where Demos and I had approached from the road. I was surrounded by archers—all of us poised on branches above the rebels on the ground, ready to defend them.
The tree I’d chosen was close enough for me to keep an eye on Demos, while still ensuring I was well hidden, nestled among its branches. My quiver was slung across my back, filled with arrows. I had already nocked one of them, ready to draw and release in an instant.
Someone let out a choked gasp to my left. A woman I recognized from training was poised in the branches, her crossbow in her hands. I hadn’t had a chance to talk to her, but she attempted a smile, her face ashen.
I smiled back.
The sun was setting, shafts of fading light filtering through the gnarled canopy above my head. But a sense of foreboding clutched at me, ice sliding up my spine.
Pressing myself against the trunk, I watched Demos. He was positioned around ten footspans away, sword in his hand, his back to me.
“You stay in that tree, or I’ll haul you back to camp myself,” he’d growled moments ago.
I hadn’t dignified that with an answer. There was no time anyway.
The temperature plummeted. I steeled myself.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
I jumped, clutching at the branch above my head. Herne had warned us about the traps surrounding their camp. Demos and I had been lucky not to stumble across any of them.
A feral screech cut through the silence. I was panting now, and I wasn’t the only one. Next to Demos, a boy white-knuckled his sword, his entire body trembling. He must have only been eleven or twelve winters. What was Herne thinking, allowing him at the front?
Demos glanced at him, a muscle feathering in his jaw. And then he went still.
The forest surrounding us was silent—as if even the animals knew what was coming.
