She became hyperaware of their position. Of how her back arched slightly, pushing her more firmly against him. Of how her thighs had parted just enough during sleep to be inviting. Of how wet she already was, how her body had been preparing itself while her mind slept.
"Every time you moved," he continued, his breath hot against her neck, "every little shift of your hips, every soft sigh… do you have any idea what kind of torture that's been?"
Briar shook her head.
The careful control he'd been maintaining cracked like ice in spring. One moment she was on her side, the next he'd flipped her onto her back with inhuman speed, looming over her with eyes gone feral. Not the cold control she knew, but something wilder and barely contained.
"Hours," he repeated, and now she could see what those hours had cost him. His pupils were blown wide, a muscle jumping in his jaw, hands trembling where they braced on either side of her head. "Do you know what I've been telling myself? Lies. Pretty lies about warmth and healing andnecessity."
She felt his gaze travel down her body, knew he was taking in her flushed skin, her peaked nipples, the way her thighs had parted without her conscious decision.
"But this?" His hand traced from her throat down between her breasts, over her stomach, stopping just above where she ached for him. "This is the truth. You've been rubbing against me like a cat in heat, and I've been pretending I didn't want to pin you down and take you again and again, until you screamed."
She reached for him but he caught her wrist.
"No. No touching. Not yet. I've been exercising control for hours while you tortured me. Now it's my turn."
Roots erupted from the dirt at his silent command. She felt them wrap around one wrist, then the other, drawing her arms above her head and holding them there. The living wood pulsed warm against her skin, thrumming with his magic.
"Much better," he murmured. "Now, where were we?"
His hands returned to her body, exploring with devastating slowness. She felt one trace the curve of her breast while the other mapped her ribs, her stomach, the sensitive hollow of her hip. He circled her nipples but didn't touch them directly. She arched, trying to direct his touch where she needed it, but he stayed just out of reach.
"So responsive," he murmured, finally brushing his thumbs over both peaked nipples at once. The cry that escaped her echoed in the hollow. "And I haven't even properly touched you yet."
His breath ghosted over her breast while his hands continued their exploration—one gripping her thigh, the other tracing patterns on her neglected breast. She squirmed,trying to lift herself to his mouth, but he pulled back. She could see his dark smile even in the dim light.
"Patience. You made me wait hours. You can wait minutes."
But his control was fracturing. She could see it in the way his hands shook slightly as he traced patterns on her skin. Feel it in the tension radiating from his body. He was holding on by threads.
When his mouth finally closed over her nipple, those threads snapped audibly.
He sucked hard, teeth grazing, and her back bowed off the furs. His hand found her other breast, kneading roughly, causing her to cry out wordlessly.
"Is this what you wanted?" He pulled back just enough to speak. "When you pressed against me? When you made those breathy little moans?"
Was it? She couldn’t be sure anymore, she didn’t know where his desire ended and hers began. What she knew with certainty was that she didn’t want him to stop.
"Yes," she gasped, still trying to free her wrists, to touch him. "Yes, please—"
"Please what?" He moved lower, pressing biting kisses down her stomach.
"You," she managed. "I want you. Need you."
"Where?" He spread her thighs roughly, settling between them. "Here?" His fingers traced her inner thigh, so close but not close enough. "Tell me."
"Inside me," she practically sobbed. "Please, I need you—"
She couldn't finish the thought because he'd finally touched her, one finger tracing through her wetness with deliberate care. "So responsive already." His voice had roughened. "Is this from now, or were you already aching for me in your sleep?"
Briar lost her words entirely as he found her clit, circling with precision that spoke of careful attention to her responses. Her hips lifted seeking more, but he maintained that maddening lightness.
"I asked you a question."
"Both," she managed at last. "I don't know. Please—"
"You almost died today." The words came out harsh as he slid two fingers inside her, the sudden intrusion making her cry out and clench around him immediately. "Almost drowned saving me from something that couldn't have truly harmed me."
