He set a deliberate pace, achingly slow, while his thumb found her clit again with just enough pressure to torment but not satisfy. She was already aching, already climbing, but he held her at that precipice with calculated control.
"Do you know what I thought when you went under?" He stretched her further with a third finger, the fullness making her gasp. "When the current took you?"
She could only shake her head, beyond speech as he worked her with careful intensity.
"I thought I'd never have this again." He curved his fingers, finding that place inside that made her vision blur. "Never watch you fall apart beneath me or feel you grip me like this. Never hear you call my name when you're desperate."
He withdrew his fingers abruptly, leaving her gasping and empty.
"I'm going to taste every inch of you," he said, the matter-of-fact tone making her whole body clench with anticipation. "I'm going to use my mouth on you until you can't remember anything but how this feels."
When his tongue found her center, she cried out at the intensity.
There was no gentle exploration. His mouth claimed her with desperate hunger, tongue flat and then pointed, learning her responses and using them against her. When she writhed beneath him, overwhelmed by sensation, he held her steady, his grip on her thighs keeping them spread wide, positioning her exactly where he wanted her.
He took his time, building her up again and again only to ease back, until she was trembling and incoherent. When he finally stopped teasing, when he gave her what she needed with focused intensity, she came apart with a cry that filled the hollow.
But he didn't stop.
"Again," he commanded against her oversensitive flesh. "You tortured me for hours. You can give me more than one."
He was relentless, working her with mouth and fingers driving her to peak again before she'd even recovered from the first. The second orgasm hit harder, tearing his name from her throat as she fought against the roots holding her wrists.
The bonds finally released her, sinking back into the earth. Eliam rose over her, eyes dark with need.
"Touch me," he commanded. "Show me what you craved when you moved against me in your dreams."
Her hands found him immediately, tracing the lean muscle of his chest, the defined lines of his abdomen, before wrapping around his cock. He was impossibly hard,already wet at the tip. Her first stroke was tentative, testing, but when his hips jerked involuntarily, she grew bolder.
She found a rhythm that had his breathing turning ragged, his hands fisting in the furs as he fought for control. Another stroke, twisting at the tip, and she felt him pulse in her grip.
"Enough," he growled, catching her wrist just as she'd started another torturous pull. His control hung by a thread, eyes wild. "I need—"
He didn't finish, just hooked her legs over his arms and drove into her with one powerful thrust.
They both cried out. The stretch burned exquisitely despite his earlier attention, but her body was ready for him, slick and welcoming, already gripping him tight.
"This," he gritted out, holding himself still though she could feel the tension vibrating through him.
"Move," she pleaded.
He withdrew almost completely before driving back in, setting a relentless rhythm that had her nails digging into his shoulders. The angle was devastating, letting him reach places that made coherent thought impossible.
"Look at me," he commanded when her eyes began to close. "I want to see you. Want to watch what I do to you."
She met his gaze and found something that stole her breath. Not just hunger or need, but something raw and possessive, something that looked almost like fear.
"You don't get to die," he said, each word emphasized by his hips driving forward. "You don't get to leave. Not when you make me feel—"
He cut himself off, claiming her mouth in a fierce kiss instead.
When she made him feel what? The question dissolved in sensation. She was building toward another peak, impossibly. The weight of him, the depth of his thrusts, the way he consumed her with that kiss, it was beyond overwhelming.
When he finally released her mouth, she was gasping, desperate.
Suddenly he was pulling out, flipping their positions with that inhuman strength. Before she could process the change, he had her straddling him, hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise.
"Move for me," he commanded, voice wrecked. "Show me how you would have taken me if you'd been awake. If you'd been brave enough to take what you wanted."
