“More,” she gasped. “I need?—”
He gave her more. One hand left her hip and fisted in her hair, pulling her head back to expose her throat. His mouth found the spot where the blade had pressed and he kissed it. Gentle amid the violence of their joining. His tongue traced the line where the cut had been, the skin now smooth and healed but still sensitive.
That tenderness undid her.
“I thought I was going to die,” she gasped, her voice cracking. “I thought I was going to die and you’d never know?—”
“I know.” His rhythm faltered for just a second, his hips stuttering. “I know, kelarris. I know.”
She was crying. When had she started crying?
The tears mixed with steam and sweat, tracked down her cheeks and dripped into the water. He kissed them away. Kissed her eyelids, her cheeks, and the corner of her mouth. All while he kept moving inside her. Never stopping or letting her forget he was there.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured against her skin. “I’ve got you. Let go.”
Her body obeyed before her mind caught up. She felt the orgasm coming a split second before it hit—the tiny flutters inside her, the way her body clamped down—and then it crashed over her.
She screamed his name to the night sky, her inner muscles squeezing him in waves that left her shaking. Her thighs trembled where they gripped his hips. Her fingers went numb where they dug into his back.
He groaned, low and savage, and his pace turned frantic as he chased his own release with a desperation that matched hers. She was too sensitive now, every thrust sending aftershocks sparking through her, but she didn’t want him to stop.
She never wanted him to stop.
“Mine,” he growled against her throat. His teeth grazed her shoulder, bit down hard enough to bruise. “My mate. My heart. Mine.”
He slammed deep and held there, his whole body shuddering as he came. She felt the heat of his release inside her, felt his cock jerk and pulse, felt the rumble of his groan vibrate through her chest where they were pressed together. His arms wrapped around her so tight she couldn’t breathe, and she didn’t care.
For a long moment neither of them moved.
Just breathing. Hearts pounding. Bodies tangled together in the hot water while steam rose around them and the cold air bit at their exposed skin.
She became aware of things slowly. The ache between her thighs—deep and satisfying. The way his hands had gentled on her hips, stroking now instead of gripping.
“Did I hurt you?” His voice was rough with concern.
“Yes.” Feeling him tense, she pressed a kiss to his jaw. “But I needed it. I needed to feel something other than?—”
She couldn’t finish. The terror was still too close. Too raw.
He understood. Of course he did.
Shifting, he adjusted them so she was cradled in his lap instead of pinned against the rocks. The water lapped warm around her shoulders and his arms wrapped around her. Solid. Safe.
Letting her head fall against his chest, she listened to his heartbeat. Strong and steady. Alive.
“I should check you over,” he said. “Make sure you’re?—”
“Later.” She pressed closer. “Just hold me.”
He did. His hand came up to stroke through her wet hair, working out the tangles with careful fingers. The same hands that had crushed a man’s throat hours ago. The same hands that had carved her a comb because he wanted to give her something beautiful.
Catching his wrist without thinking, she turned his arm to press a kiss to his palm and frowned.
Dark lines traced across his wrist. Twisting, curling patterns that looked like vines climbing toward his forearm. They hadn’t been there before. She would have noticed.
“Goraath… What are these?”
He looked down and froze.
