He began his worship at her throat, tracing the line of her pulse with his tongue. "I have dreamed of this my whole life," he confessed against her skin, his voice a low rumble.
His mouth traveled lower, over the swell of her breasts, drawing a peaked nipple into the heat of his mouth. She let out a loud gasp, and it was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, and soon she arched beneath him as he lavished attention on each breast until her breathing grew uneven.
"Raikar…"
"I'm not rushing this," he vowed, his path descending over the taut plane of her stomach.
He kissed the faint marks of old battles on her ribs and the newer bruises from their trek. He lingered at the partial mate mark on her hip, his own claw marks now a permanent part of her. Possession and protectiveness roared through him.
"This moment is ours. I will savor every second of it."
He then settled between her thighs, the scent of her arousal filling his senses. His panther purred in primal satisfaction. He looked up the length of her body, meeting her heavy-lidded gaze.
"Tell me what you want," he commanded, though his voice was rough with need.
"You," she said without hesitation. Her hips lifted in a silent plea. "I want you. I want the bond."
A predatory smile touched his lips, and then he lowered his head and finally tasted her. His tongue swept through her folds, learning her shape, her texture, the perfect points that made her cry out. He licked and sucked at her clit with focused intensity, using the skills of a hunter who knew how to drive his prey to the very edge.
"Please!" The word was a broken sob. Her thighs trembled against his cheeks. "Raikar, I need you inside me."
The demand, raw and echoing through the bond, almost shattered his control. He raised his head and looked up at her in the silver moonlight. Her eyes were wild, desperate, all her famed discipline burned away by need.
"Say it again," he growled, needing to hear the certainty.
"Complete the bond," Jade said, her voice filled with fierce conviction and need. "Now."
Through the partial bond, her need was a raw, pulsing ache that mirrored his own, a feedback loop of pure, undiluted desire. Then her hands were in his hair, not pulling him closer, but dragging him up her body with a strength that stole his breath.
His panther roared in triumphant accord. He had worshipped her, but her command was a truth he would never defy. He shifted his weight, bracing himself above her, the broad head of his cock nudging her slick entrance. He saw the dilation of her pupils, and felt the answering clench of her body in anticipation.
"Look at me," he ordered, his voice a guttural command.
Her deep brown eyes locked on his as he pushed forward, a single, relentless stroke that buried him to the hilt in her impossibly tight, scorching heat. A loud, broken cry tore fromher throat, a sound of pure possession that seemed to hang in the humid air, echoing off the heart-shaped stone of Lover's Rock and out over the sleeping jungle.
He held himself there, fully seated, letting them both feel the completeness of it. He watched the play of sensations across her face—the initial stretch, the overwhelming fullness, then the dawning, desperate need for motion.
"Raikar," she gasped, her nails gripping his shoulders.
He began to move, withdrawing with aching slowness before driving home again. Each measured thrust was a drawn-out torment, a deliberate stoking of the fire between them. He wanted her mindless with it, wanted her to forget everything but the feel of him claiming her, over and over. His own control was a fraying wire, the beast inside him hammering against its cage with every one of her choked moans.
"Faster," she begged, her hips lifting to meet his next slow plunge. "Please. Harder."
Raikar was done with patience. With a growl that was more panther than man, he surrendered. He hooked his arms under her knees, driving her legs back, opening her wider, and changed the rhythm entirely. The pace he set was primal, a hard, deep piston stroke that stole the air from her lungs and made the moss beneath them shudder. The wet, rhythmic slap of skin on skin joined the chorus of the jungle night.
He felt her shatter first. The tension in her body snapped, her back arching off the ground. Her climax was a silent, violent quake that rippled through her, clamping around him like a silken fist. But he wasn't done. He drove into her through the convulsions, prolonging her pleasure, chasing his own.
As the first waves began to recede and a second, deeper peak gathered within her, he brought his right hand to her left hip. He met her dazed, bliss-filled gaze, ensuring she saw the truth in his eyes.
"My mark," he vowed, the words a promise. "Now and forever."
His claws extended, not in aggression, but in sacred claim. As the crest of her second, shattering orgasm broke over her, he dragged the points of his claws over the faint, silvery lines of his first accidental mark. Four fresh, deep gashes bloomed in their place, a perfect, permanent brand.
A scream ripped from her—not of pain but of transcendent pleasure. Her body convulsed again, a smaller, sharper climax triggered by the exquisite sting of his claiming. That final, clenching squeeze was his undoing.
His own release tore through him with the force of a detonation. He threw his head back, a roar ripping from his throat as he poured himself into her, his cock pulsing again and again, seeding her deep. In that blinding, white-hot moment of mutual ecstasy, he felt it.
The final, missing piece of a cosmic lock sliding home. The partial bond, that constant hum of connection, exploded into a brilliant, unbreakable tether. It was complete.
