I tumble backward, tailbone jarring painfully against the ground.
Sabine growls and throws herself on top of me like this was the plan all along. Her lithe body writhes against mine as she shucks my pants down my hips.
There’s no tenderness here. Not this time.
Only hunger.
A drip of crimson blood runs down her chin and patters against my bare chest.
“Easy, little violet,” I coax. Once, I’d have met her bite for bite. I’ve always loved the violent clash of our want. Hell, the thought of my palm cracking across her bare ass is enough to stir me even now.
But this time?
This time, I keep still. She’s the waves and I’m the rock to break herself against.
“Basten, I can’t stop myself,” she pants.
“So don’t.” I trap her hands on my chest, holding them there. “Let it out. Let it come. I can take it. You’re not going to break me.”
Another vine rips out of the ground, sliding around my left ankle and pulling tight enough to nearly pull the bone out of the socket.
Sabine grips the vine as an anchor, rocking back and forth while straddling me, her hair loose and tangled in the wind that blows at her command. Her thighs tremble around my hips.
She’s trying to hold herself back.
But the vines don’t listen to the last whisper of her human restraint. They’re commanded by something ancient in her, driven by pure, wicked desire. Another vine loops around my chest and pins me down, chaining me at her will.
She grips this one even harder.
I grimace at the pressure but don’t let her see a bit of my pain.
With my free hand, I grab her chin and drag my thumb against her bottom lip. “Don’t fight it, Sabine. You think I can’t handle you in this form? I’ve seen you bare. I’ve seen you in a crown. I fell in love with each person you’ve shown me. I wanteveryversion of you. Each terrible and beautiful part. You won’t scare me away. You could break the world in half, and I’d still be at your side.”
The storm clouds clear in her eyes, leaving them wide and open as the sea.
“That’s it,” I offer gently.
Unsure at first, she rocks her hips against mine, still clinging for dear life to the vines. She moves slower this time. More in control. With her vines holding me down, there isn’t a place I could go to escape her—but I don’t want to.
Her head lolls backward, her windblown hair cascading down her shoulders. She’s so wet between her legs that she’s soaking through her dress. The sharp scent of her need is like a drug to my groin.
I want to stay in control, to lead us—but gods, she makes it hard.
“Take what you need from me,” I groan.
I drive my hips upward as far as the vines allow, and she gasps and arches her back. Her beautiful breasts strain at her dress’s fabric, her nipples so hard I can feel their ache.
“Take that dress off,” I command.
She runs her hands down her curves, and more vines snake over to peel her out of her dress, pulling it down her hips like a moth emerging from a cocoon, darkly beautiful and new.
And then she’s bare to me. No holding back. It’s different this time—I see the goddess and the girl, wrapped up in that perfect body I’d go to hell and back for.
Her hands on my bare chest are feverish, uncontrolled. She grinds mindlessly against me, purely driven by adrenaline. I shift my position to give her the friction she’s seeking. As my cock lines up with her swollen heat, a gasp tears from her lips.
“Yes, Basten!”
My free hand holds firm to her waist as I rock my hips up, sinking my cock in deep. Finally giving her the sustenance she needs. This isn’t sex; it’s desperation. It’s her way of surviving the enormity inside her. Each roll of her hips is a demand as she works through the need gushing through her.
