“Like that,” I breathe. “And if you do it again I’m going to lose the ability to form sentences.”
She laughs—a soft, bright sound—and then her expression turns intent. She strokes me again, slower this time, and my hips jerk. My gills flare in helpless response.
Lightning flickers along her arm. Water ripples across my skin. The bond hums, pleased.
I catch her wrist gently, not stopping her—just steadying. “I want you first.”
Her breath catches. “Torin?—”
“I need to taste you,” I say, and the words come out like a vow.
She stares at me, eyes wide, then nods once. “Okay.”
I slide down her body, kissing a path over her stomach, the dip of her navel, the soft skin between her hipbones. Her fingers tangle in my hair as if she doesn’t know what to do with them.
“You can hold on,” I murmur against her skin. “You can push me away. You can tell me to stop. You can tell me to keep going. Whatever you need.”
“Just... don’t stop,” she whispers, voice already breaking.
My pulse spikes.
I spread her thighs with reverent hands and settle between them. Heat radiates off her. She’s wet, slick with need, and the first press of my mouth to her makes her cry out.
Lightning cracks against the stone ceiling. My water magic rises instinctively, cooling the air around us so the sparks don’t burn. A storm contained in a current.
I lick her slowly, tasting her fully, learning her. She tastes like the first breath after drowning. Like rain on hot stone. Like everything I’ve been too afraid to want.
Zara’s hips lift, seeking more, and I follow, keeping my mouth on her, tongue sliding over her, circling the sensitive bundle at the top that makes her whole body jolt.
“Torin,” she gasps, and her hands clamp in my hair.
“That’s it,” I murmur, the vibration of my voice making her shudder. “Let me feel you.”
She tries to answer but it comes out as a broken sound. Her lightning arcs, painting my shoulders in gold. I hold her steady with one hand on her hip and slide two fingers into her with the other, slow at first, letting her body take me in inch by inch.
She’s tight. Hot. So ready it makes me ache.
Her eyes go wide and she stares down at me like she can’t believe this is real.
“Okay?” I ask, even as my tongue keeps moving.
“Yes,” she chokes. “Yes—gods—yes.”
I curl my fingers inside her, finding the spot that makes her gasp and clamp around me. I keep that pressure, rocking my hand in a rhythm that matches my mouth.
Her body starts to shake.
“You’re doing so good,” I tell her. “I can feel you.”
The bond thrums, feeding her pleasure back into me until I’m half-dizzy with it. It’s like touching lightning and not only surviving—thriving.
Zara’s thighs tighten around my head. Her breath goes ragged, broken. “I’m close.”
“Let go,” I order softly. “I’ve got you.”
Something in her snaps—trust, fear, whatever last piece she was holding back—and she comes with a cry that echoes off the stone. Lightning bursts from her skin in a brilliant wave; my water magic surges to meet it, wrapping us in cool mist, turning the shock into pure sensation.
Her climax hits me through the bond like a tidal wave. Pleasure, joy, relief so intense it hurts. I groan against her, drinking her down, riding the tremors with my mouth until she goes boneless.
