I increased my pace, driving deeper, and she had to press both hands over her own mouth to keep from crying out. Thesight of her—struggling to contain her pleasure, fighting her own body's need to scream, her eyes squeezed shut and tears leaking from the corners—was the most erotic thing I'd ever seen.
Her bodysuit was still half on, bunched around her waist, torn and twisted. My pants were shoved down just enough, my shirt hanging in tatters. We were a mess of partially clothed desperation, and it was perfect. It was everything.
I could feel her inner muscles clenching around me, could see the flush spreading across her skin, darkening the gray to something deeper. When I ran my hands down her sides, feeling the coiled strength in her frame, she arched into my touch, her mouth falling open behind her hands in a silent gasp.
Another sound in the distance—closer this time. The snap of a branch. A muttered curse.
We both froze again, and I felt Serna's heart hammering against my chest, felt the way her whole body trembled with the effort of staying still, staying silent, even as I was buried deep inside her. The danger was real. Immediate. One sound, one moment of lost control, and we were dead.
But somehow that made it more intense. Made every sensation sharper, every touch more electric. The fear and the pleasure twisted together until I couldn't separate them, until the pounding of my heart was as much terror as arousal.
The sounds faded again, and I started moving—slow, deliberate thrusts that made Serna bite down on her own hand to keep from making noise. I could see the marks her teeth left in her palm, could see the way her lip was bleeding where she'd bitten through it, and the sight of her blood mixed with mine on her mouth made something primal surge through me.
I kissed her, tasting copper and salt and her, and she kissed me back with desperate intensity, her tongue sliding against mine, swallowing the sounds we couldn't afford to make. Her free hand fisted in my hair, pulling hard enough to hurt,and I welcomed the pain because it grounded me, kept me from losing control completely.
"Please," she breathed against my mouth, so quiet it was barely sound at all. "Please, Cullen, I need—"
I knew what she needed. Could feel it in the way her body moved beneath me, in the desperate way she clung to me. I shifted my angle, hitting that spot deep inside her that made her whole body jerk, and she had to bury her face in my shoulder to muffle the sound that tried to escape.
Her teeth sank into my shoulder—hard, breaking skin—and the sharp pain mixed with pleasure in a way that made my vision blur. I could feel the blood trickling down my back, could feel the way she trembled against me, could taste the desperation in every kiss, every touch.
But then something strange happened.
My heart, which had been racing with exertion and desire, suddenly felt... wrong. Not painful, exactly. Not like something was broken. But like it couldn't find its rhythm. It would speed up, then slow down, then race again, like it was searching for something it couldn't quite locate. The sensation was overwhelming—not frightening, but intensely, erotically charged. Each irregular beat sent a jolt of electricity through my body, heightening every sensation, making me hyperaware of every point where our bodies joined.
I pressed my hand to my chest, confused, even as I continued moving inside her, my hips driving deeper.
"Cullen?" Her voice was barely a whisper, breathless but concerned. "What's wrong?"
"I don't—" I shook my head, trying to focus through the sensation. "My heart. It feels strange."
She went very still beneath me, her eyes widening. Her body was trembling, whether from exertion or emotion or the effort of staying silent, I couldn't tell. "Strange how?"
"Like it's trying to find a rhythm but can't settle. It's not bad, just... like it's searching for something." I looked down at her, confused, even as I felt my arousal intensify at the mystery of it. Her eyes were dark with desire, her breathing shallow and quick, her lips swollen from biting back her sounds.
"Cullen." She reached up, cupping my face with both hands, and there was something in her expression I couldn't quite read. Wonder, maybe. Or fear. Or both. "Do you know about Vaktaire true mate bonds?"
I blinked, thrown by the sudden change in topic, though I didn't stop moving inside her. "I... no. Not really. You mentioned true mates before, but—"
"When a Vaktaire meets their true mate," she said, her voice soft but intense, her hips still moving against mine in that maddening rhythm, "something happens at the moment of bonding. Something sacred." Her hands trembled slightly against my face. "Their hearts—both hearts—stop. Just for an instant. And when they start again, they beat in perfect synchronization. Forever. Two souls, one heartbeat."
I stared at her, my mind struggling to process what she was saying even as my heart continued its erratic searching, even as I felt myself hardening further inside her at the implication of her words. "You mean—"
"I think you're my true mate, Cullen." The words came out in a rush, vulnerable and terrified and hopeful all at once. Her body was flushed, her breathing ragged, her pupils blown wide with desire. "I think that's what this is. What we've been feeling. Why everything between us feels so... inevitable."
My heart stuttered in my chest—a sensation that was now undeniably erotic, sending waves of pleasure through me—and suddenly everything made sense. The pull I'd felt toward her from the beginning. The way being with her felt like cominghome. The absolute certainty that I would die for her, kill for her, do anything to keep her safe.
"I'm not surprised," I said, and I realized it was true. Some part of me had known all along. I increased my pace, feeling her body respond, her inner muscles clenching around me, and she had to press both hands over her mouth to keep from crying out. "It would explain... everything. How much I love you. How complete I feel when I'm with you. Like I've been searching my whole life and finally found what I was looking for."
Tears gathered in her eyes, but she was smiling behind her hands, her head thrown back as pleasure built between us. When she lowered her hands, she whispered, "I love you too," so quietly I almost didn't hear it.
I kissed her then, soft and reverent, swallowing the sound she made, and felt my heart do that strange reaching thing again. Searching. Waiting. The sensation was exquisite torture, each irregular beat sending jolts of pleasure through my entire body.
"Then let's finish this," I breathed against her mouth.
She nodded, and we began moving together again. But this time, it was different. This time, we both knew what was happening. What was about to happen.
The passion built between us, urgent and overwhelming and silent. Serna's legs wrapped around my waist, pulling me deeper, and I had to bury my face in her neck to muffle the groan that threatened to escape. I lost myself in the sensation of her—the heat, the tightness, the way she fit against me like we'd been designed for each other. Her velvet pelt was slick with perspiration now, soft as silk against my skin as I moved over her, and I couldn't get enough of the sensation. I kissed her shoulders, her collarbone, anywhere I could reach, tasting herpelt, breathing in the scent of her arousal mixed with the earthy smell of moss and jungle.
