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“Vevol probably didn’t factor in me exhausting myself swimming through caves,” I murmured.
“We’re going to have to mate sooner than we planned.”
I blinked. “You know you don’t have to go through with that. Your possessiveness will probably fade, and—”
“I imagined ripping your king’s throat out nearly every day for two decades, Nai. If you mate with someone else again, you’ll have to kill me.” Honesty rang out in his voice.
“Obviously I’m not going to do that.”
“Then you’re going to have to let me claim you. And there’s no point in waiting for the inevitable when it means you’re just going to get worse.”
I huffed at him. “You don’t have a romantic bone in your body.”
He gripped my ass, and squeezed. “You’d be surprised, Queenie.”
I smacked him on the shoulder lightly for the nickname again. He squeezed my ass in retaliation. “What’s the ink for?” I wondered, trailing a finger over one of the larger shapes on his collarbone. His cock throbbed to life against my core, and my face heated at the attention.
Apparently, he liked it when I touched him.
“The mate bond was nearly impossible to ignore. The pain of the tattoos distracted me long enough to fight the pull of it.”
Damn.
My face fell, and I knew he saw my emotions flash across it.
“Aeven would’ve been a hell of a lot more capable than you of finding a decent enough male for you to kiss to cut off your bond,” Teris said bluntly. “You didn’t know anyone; he did. Don’t feel bad for the bastard when he could’ve changed his own damn situation if he’d tried.”
“It’s not that simple,” I said quietly. “We were fated. He felt an obligation for me.”
“And I feel an obligation to break his nose. Doesn’t mean I have to go through with it,” Teris growled.
A snort escaped me. “You’re the worst.”
“Am I really?” he drawled. Though he was teasing me, I saw a little hesitation in his eyes.
He was used to being the villain, too.
“No. You saved my life.” I leaned my forehead to his shoulder. “It’s going to take another decade to get back to the Stronghold at this rate. We should probably find a cave and just do it.”
“That’s exactly how I want my woman to talk about fucking me for the first time,” he grumbled, adjusting his grip on me so he was ready to dive down again.
I laughed. “MaybeI’mthe worst.”
“No, Queenie. You’re perfect. Don’t fucking forget it.”
With that, he dove down into the water.
While he swam us, his hand slid into the back of my shorts, and his fingers found my clit.
I jerked against him, shocked by the touch—and more than a little turned on by it.
He stroked me slowly while we swam, and stopped when we surfaced. I sucked in air, panting and resisting the urge to rock against his hand. Or his erection. He was rock-hard against me.
“If I’m not going to have the chance to hand-fuck you a dozen times before I take you, I’m at least going to make sure you’re really damn ready for me before we find the right cave,” he growled at me.
My body flushed hotter. “I swear, you didn’t talk this dirty the last time I knew you.”
His eyes darkened. “The last time you knew me, I didn’t know what it felt like to lose you.” He pinched my clit between his fingers, and I swore quietly, arching against him and finding his erection against me.
