“I love you vesh’rhûn.”(Keeper of my breath.) Her free hand reaches for me, fisting my hair hard enough to sting. I growl low in my chest.
I set a brutal pace,fingers driving into her while my thumb works her kaelinae. The wet sounds of her body fill the bathroom with obscene echoes.
“I love you,”I rasp against her neck, fangs scraping her pulse. “I love you, I love you, I love you?—”
"Harder,"she begs, voice breaking. "Please, rhûen’ka—" (My beast.)
She’s calling for him?Her beast?
Something feral roarsto life in my chest. Rhûven surges forward, demanding, begging to give her what she needs.
“You want my beast?”I rasp into her ear, voice dropping dangerously low. “You want to see what happens when I stop being a man?”
“Yes. Please. Need him—”
My fingers aren’t enough.I can feel it. She needs more. I curl them one last time, a final, wicked goodbye to the Andrik who was trying to be careful.
“Not enough,”I growl, pulling my fingers free. “You need more than this, don’t you? You need more of me?”
A primal idea strikes me—possiblyinsane.
I reach up,gripping one of the smaller tines branching from my antlers. With a sharp, painful twist, it snaps off in my palm. The break is clean, but the edges are rough.
Lumi’s eyes fly open,hazy and unfocused. “Andrik, what?—”
“You trust me, remember?”I murmur.
Magic flowsfrom my fingers onto the broken antler. Ice crawls along its surface, smoothing the harsh edges, filling in the imperfections, polishing it until it gleams like black glass. But it’s not enough. Rhûven wants more.
I breathefrost over its surface, and ice crystallizes in deliberate swirls—raised ridges spiraling from base to tip, each one designed to drag against the most sensitive parts of her.
She stares at me,pupils blown with need. Her breath comes in short, desperate gasps.
“Will you take him?”I ask, searching her face. “Will you let a piece of my beast fill you?”
She nods frantically.
“Yes. I want to try, ves’thraen.”
My breath catches.
Ves’thraen.My safety is yours.
She’s giving me everything.Her trust. Her body. Her safety. Putting herself wholly in my hands, no matter how crazy the idea.
“I’ll keep you safe,”I rasp. “Always, lumina’ka. I swear to you.”
I trailthe smooth antler down her body slowly, between her breasts, over her twitching stomach.
“Tellme if it’s too much,” I murmur, positioning it at her entrance. I spread her open with my other hand before leaning down to spit directly on her kaelinae—icy saliva hitting fevered flesh.
She keens,hips bucking.
“Every part of me,”I growl, using my thumb to spread the frosty wetness down to where the antler waits. “On you. In you. Claiming you.”
I slideit inside her slowly—so slowly—watching her face as the cool, hard length fills her inch by inch.
Her thighs spread wider,head falling back against the edge of the tub.
