A snarl ripped from his throat as his hands tore at the knots of her trousers, yanking the ties loose until the fabric jerked down. Cool airhit her bare skin, sharp against the molten ache building low in her belly.
Her hips lifted, hovering just long enough for the blunt head of him to nudge and slide against her entrance. The contact made her whole body seize…for just a moment…before his fingers stiffened into her hips and yanked her down.
“Kazuma!” The cry tore loose as he speared into her, long and thick, splitting her wide, forcing every shuddering inch to stretch around him.
The burn shot deep, delicious and raw, until he bottomed out, her cunt clamping down around him. And still, his palms flattened against her back to bring her closer, deeper, his cock easing out, pulsing and wet, before driving back in.
More.She moaned into him, fingers tangling in his hair, yanking until his head snapped back, throat bared.
“Do it.” His groan tore through the night, hips bucking up into her. “Take it.”
Her mouth hovered, tongue flicking out against the steady pulse beating beneath his skin. And the throb under her lips grew frantic as his grasp constricted, hauling her body down onto him again and again, punching into her so hard her vision spotted.
She bit, teeth sinking deep—
“Ahh—fuck.” The snarl ripped out of him as his body arched beneath hers.
The taste hit like lightning, flooding through her, erasing panic, erasing fear, until all that remained was the delicious mass of him wedged inside her, filling her, and the endless rush of copper heat coating her tongue.
Kazuma’s snarl broke into a guttural moan as her body convulsed around him, the orgasm tearing through her, blood and sex tanglinguntil she couldn’t separate one from the other. Grounding down, she refused to let go, teeth still buried, cock still buried, until he finally collapsed back onto the gravel beneath them.
Only then did she lift her head, lips smeared red, chest heaving.
Her focus trailed down, drinking him in, until it landed on the mark she’d left, then climbed to meet the purple fire in his eyes as he stared back at her, undone, claimed. And beneath the pounding in her veins came the terrifying, staggering truth—she had taken him, made himhers, and there was no turning back.
Chapter eleven
“No!No.No.”Kazumasnatched the spoon and the bowl from her hands, scowling. “That’s too much wild pepper root.”
“Hey!” Aimee spun, reaching for the ground spice she’d already measured out. “You wanted me to cook. I’m cooking.”
“And that’s far too much heat.” His voice carried an edge now. He leaned past her, shoulder brushing hers, and lifted the cast-iron skillet straight off the small woodstove set into the rock wall.
“You’re screwing it up!” She shoved back against him. “Getting the perfect sear is hard as fuck.”
Kazuma swung the skillet up near her face. “You can’t possibly have donethis on purpose.”
Observing the pan, she found the trout they’d taken from the stream that morning lying crinkled and black at the edges, the skin blistered and crisped. She wrinkled her nose, then leaned closer and sniffed. The char gave way to a smoky, savory scent that made her grin.
“It’s actually—” she declared, grabbing for the pan. “Perfect.”
Before he could stop her, she removed a slim paring knife from her belt and slid it beneath the edges of the fish, lifting until the blackened skin cracked loose from the iron. With a quick flick of her wrist, she flipped both pieces into the air. The fish landed back in the pan, skin-side up this time, sizzling on the fresh side.
“Two more minutes,” she announced. Grabbing another jar from the collection of spices he’d scavenged for her, she scattered the coarse green flakes over the fish until the sizzling oil snapped them fragrant.
“And then we can eat!” She whirled to face him, as the piney bite of mountain sage burst upward with the smoke.
Kazuma stood there staring, mouth open, eyes cutting between her and the pan. “You can’t be serious.” He jabbed a finger at the skillet. “There is no possible outcome where I let you so obviously poison me.”
“Get the plates.” Aimee ignored the dismay etched across his face, eyes fixed instead on the pan as she counted down the seconds.
He muttered something, the sound too low to catch, as footfalls less stealthy than usual crossed to the cabinet.
“Hurry.” She bent at the waist, leaning closer to the skillet. Oil hissed as the last of the sage crisped on the surface. “Nearly done…”
Heat swept over her back a moment later as he slid in behind her, one hand settling on her hip.
“Now this,” he murmured, his mouth close enough to stir the hair at her temple. “This might be worth a small poisoning.”
