“I didn’t do—”
He leans up and captures a nipple in his mouth.
I gasp as he eases me onto him until his cock presses against my opening. With a little push, I finish it and slide all the way down, his thickness filling me until it’s hard to breathe.
“No matter if we quarrel, I will always love you.” He puts one hand on my shoulder and lifts his hips. My toes curl, and I throw my head back as he fastens his lips to my throat.
I work my hips, the water rippling as I ease up and down on him. He grips my ass and claims the other nipple in his mouth, his fangs dancing along my breast, his tongue wickedly stroking me. I move faster, not caring that the water splashes over the edge. Together with him—this is home. The bond wraps around us like a warm fur, and I pant as I work him, his mouth all over my breasts as he palms my backside.
Reaching farther down my ass, he feels himself sliding into me and groans. Then he lifts his finger to that one forbidden spot, the place where I’ve never been taken.
When he rubs the sensitive skin there, my toes curl and my hips move wildly. How can that feel so good?
He laughs against my breast, then lifts his face to my throat, his lips trailing a wicked line down my jugular.
Heat pools deep inside me as I grip his shoulders, my nails digging in as I ride him with wanton abandon. My legs are open wide, my knees pressed against the sides of the tub, and his finger is still seeking, still stroking me as I ride him.
“I know what Xalana likes.” He nibbles my ear and pulls me against him, my breasts rubbing against his chest, my nipples tingling as every bit of sensation rushes between my thighs. “She’s filthy. My cheeky harlot. Say it. Tell me who you are.” His low voice is an extra caress, one that slides over me like velvet.
“I’m yours.” I lick my lips and grip his hair. “Your filthy Xalana.”
“That’s it.” He pushes his finger inside me, and I lean back and moan from the intrusion, the utter deliciousness of being filled so completely. “Tight, my beloved. So tight.” He thrusts in and out with the same rhythm as my hips.
How have I gone so long without this particular pleasure? I moan as I grind on him. Nothing else matters, just the heat that I chase with each movement of my hips, each stroke of his finger inside me. He sucks my breasts, nipping and licking, driving me wild as my breath begins to catch.
I throw my head back as my insides coil around and around, tight as a spring. And then, when he uses his fang to nick the claiming mark at my shoulder, I unwind in a gush of bliss, my hips locking at first. He thrusts up deep inside me, my body gripping him as he groans out his release, his hot seed filling me as I clench and unfurl, clench and unfurl.
Nothing has ever felt better than this, and I can’t seem to disentangle myself from the emotions that threaten to overwhelm me. I rest my head on his shoulder as I come down, safe in his arms.
“I love you,” I whisper, the words somehow secret and sacred.
He strokes my back and sends the world of his love streaming down the bond. It’s not just a color or a feeling, it’s an entire rainbow full of nothing but joy and gratefulness. All of it for me.
Once I catch my breath, I sit back and hold his face in my hands. “Wearegoing to the winter realm, okay? I promise.” Magic sends a shock through the water. “I will make good on our agreement. When the slaves are free, we are done.”
“After Cranthum?”
“Yes.” I kiss him, sealing my promise with a touch of love. “After Cranthum, we will hole up in whatever warm, fur-covered bed you choose and do nothing except eat and fuck until I can’t walk and have gained twenty pounds.”
He smiles and grips my waist. “In all my years, I’ve never had such a beautiful offer.”
I bite his shoulder lightly, bringing out a growl from his feral. “My mate.” I bite him harder. “How I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
I meet his gaze again, delighting in the golden hue of the feral. “Enough to ride a wyvern with me?”
“Don’t push it.” He takes my mouth again and surges inside me.
We stay in the bath for quite a while afterwards, but never seem to get clean.
* * *
Fumes pour from the cracks along the Brute Volcano’s rocky black slope. The unicorns struggle up a thin path that weaves through the crag.
“Why is there a way through here?” Gareth turns to Clotty who rides behind us.
The old changeling refused to stay behind. It’s a good thing, because now I’m more than a little leery about letting her out of my sight. She rides with Baralja and berates him at intervals for not holding her close enough, which gets a giggle from me almost every time.
