Still trembling, still drunk on the aftershocks, I launch myself at him, surprising us both. But he catches me, healwayscatches me, his heat searing against my water-slicked skin.
I don’t want to think. I don’t want to fight this. I only want him. The warmth of his hands, the fire of his mouth, the promise of his body sealing me to the earth. I press against him, breathless, desperate.
“Eryon, I need you,” I pant out between frantic kisses.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Eryon
Her words wreck me. Not because she is begging—but because she says my name. In hunger. In worship. It falls from her beautiful lips in her soft, reverent voice. She does not call me a monster. She does not call me Migoi.
She calls me Eryon.
I did not know how much I needed to hear it. Not until now. Not until it leaves her lips, soft and desperate and pleading—curling into my chest like a living thing.
I snap.
She barely has time to gasp before I crush my mouth to hers, dragging her on top of me, shielding her from the stone. Her lips are swollen and delicious, and I drink the remnants of her moans like I’m drowning.
She has no idea what she does to me.
I take her mouth the way I will take her body—without hesitation, without mercy, without regret. I chase every retreat of her tongue, swallow every tiny sound, scrape the sharp edge ofmy teeth along her soft, bruised lip just to taste the copper bloom of her life force to bring us that much closer.
She wants this. She needs this. Shechoosesme.
And I will give her everything.
I break the kiss to snag a leaf from the shoreline, crushing it in my hand, reaching between us to coat my cock with its slick gel until I glisten under the night stars. I hold my hand out to her in invitation, giving her one last chance.
She places her small hand in mine, and I draw her closer, guiding her hips to straddle me, notching my head at her entrance. She should not want this. She should not want me. And yet—here she is. Here she stays.
The knowledge sends a sharp pulse of heat through my veins.
She braces her small hands on my shoulders, and I steady my cock at her entrance. Her eyes meet mine, and I marvel at her bravery as she takes just the tip. Guarded yet determined. As I slowly slip into her body with the plant paving the way, her eyes widen in surprise.
Her mouth drops open as she guides herself down slowly, inch by inch—glorious, excruciating—as I smooth more of the gel that will ease her way between us. Even with its help, the tight vise of her channel can barely contain me.
I hold myself back, every muscle shaking with the effort of letting her take her time, shifting her hips to accommodate my size takes effort even with the help of the plant.
“Eryon,” she breathes, “I’m not sure I can.”
I swallow her fear with a kiss, reassure her with my lips while my hands come up to tease her beautiful breasts. I want to thrust up and sheathe myself within my mate, but I let her slowly take me. Retreating and then claiming ground by fractions.
I marvel at the way our flesh blends together, until it feels like we are no longer two separate beings but one. The sightalone threatens to tear me apart. And then the way she looks at me—wild and unashamed, a woman claiming her own desire—has my restraint ready to shatter.
I grip her hips, my fingers spanning her waist, holding her steady. She is so small, so impossibly soft, and yet she takes me with a ferocity that threatens my razor-thin control.
“Look at you, opening for me like the beautiful flower you are,” I murmur, voice thick with awe, dragging my lips over her jaw as she circles her hips, desperately trying to take me.
I feel a gush of her arousal with my words so continue. “I knew your body would yield to mine, Sruhnar. You are radiant. A gift from the divine. You are meant for me.”
She gasps, her lashes fluttering, and I feel her clench around me like a vice as I push ever deeper into her. A low growl rumbles from my chest as I sink deeper into her heat.
“You pull me in like you were made for me, like we were made for each other,” I snarl against her throat, nipping just enough to mark. “The way you take me—so eager, so fierce—gods, you’ll wring every drop from me.”
Her nails sink into my shoulders as I roll my hips, grinding into her, burying myself ever deeper. The small breathy moans that fall from her lips are the sweetest music to my ears. I want to hear every note.
I do not withdraw, do not retreat, my only salvation lies in moving forward, claiming her more fully until I am completely seated. I cannot stop now. There is no force on this earth that could make me. I thrust into her, steady and merciless, letting her feel every inch, every stretch, every claim.
