I gave her more. I switched to the other breast, lavishing attention on the neglected peak, my hands roaming her body, learning every curve, every sensitive spot. She squirmed in my lap, grinding against my hardness, and the friction nearly destroyed my control. My hands found the waistband of her lacey undergarment, tugged. Tore the seam. She lifted her hips, helping me remove them completely as the last of my restraint frayed.
She reached between us, her small hands wrapping around my hard cock. She squeezed.
Fuck.
"Tori," I groaned, my voice barely human. "If we keep going, I will not be able to stop. I will need to be inside you. I will need to claim you completely." I had to be sure she was ready. That she wanted me. I’d just met her. She was mine. But I knew human hearts were not so easily won.
"Then claim me," she gasped, her hands pulling at my shirt. "I want you. I want—" She didn't finish the sentence. She didn't need to.
I captured her mouth in a kiss that was all hunger and reverence, all desperation and devotion. My hands worked between us, stripping away the last of her clothing until she lay naked beneath me on the blanket, her skin glowing like pearl in the moonlight. I pulled back just enough to look at her—really look at her—and felt my breath catch in my throat. She was exquisite. Beyond exquisite. Every curve, every line, every breath that moved her chest was a miracle I didn't deserve but would spend my life worshipping.
"You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen," I whispered, the words rough with emotion. "And you are mine."
"Yours," she agreed, her eyes dark pools in the starlight. "Only yours."
I touched her with hands that trembled—not with cold, but with the sheer magnitude of what was about to happen.
My fingers found her core. Pressed deep. I fucked her with my fingers and watched pleasure chase its way across her face.
I learned her rhythm. Pushed her toward release. Stopped. Drove her mad.
The ocean breeze kissed my overheated skin, but I barely noticed. All my attention was on her, on the woman watching me with equal parts desire and vulnerability. When I was as bare as she, I lowered myself back to the blanket, covering her body with mine. The first touch of skin against skin was electric—her softness against my hardness, her heat merging with mine, the salt air carrying the scent of her arousal mixed with the ocean.
She gasped at the contact, her back arching, her legs parting to cradle me between her thighs. I could feel her wetness against my shaft, could feel the heat of her calling to me, and every instinct I possessed screamed at me to take, to claim, to make her mine in the most primitive way possible. But I forced myself to go slowly. To be careful. This was our first time, and I would not hurt her, would not rush her, would not let my beast nature overwhelm the tenderness she deserved.
"Tell me if I hurt you," I murmured against her lips, positioning myself at her entrance. "Tell me to stop if you need me to."
"I won't," she promised, her hands coming up to frame my face. "I need you, Egon. I need this. I need you inside me."
I pressed forward slowly, inch by inch, feeling her body stretch around me, feeling the tight heat of her welcoming me home. She was so tight, so hot, so impossibly perfect that I had to grit my teeth against the urge to thrust deep and claim her completely.
"Breathe," I whispered, stilling when I felt her tense beneath me. "Breathe for me, Tori. Let me in."
She exhaled shakily, her body softening, and I sank deeper until I was buried to the hilt, surrounded by her, claimed by her as surely as I was claiming her. We lay like that for a moment—joined, complete, frozen in the perfection of the connection—while the waves crashed against the shore and the stars wheeled overhead. I could feel her heart hammering against my chest, could feel her breath coming in shallow gasps, could feel the heat of her wrapping around me like a fist.
"Are you alright?" I asked, my voice strained with the effort of holding still. Of controlling the beast clawing his way through my body. He wanted her.
By rights, this first claiming should be his.
But this was not Atlan. She was no Atlan female. And I feared if I allowed him to emerge, I would not be able to force him back down without the mating cuffs on our wrists.
It was too dangerous. Too great a risk. And I would not risk her.
"Yes," she breathed, her eyes shining with tears that weren't from pain. "Yes, Egon. Move. Please, move?—"
I moved. Slowly at first, testing her, learning the rhythm that made her gasp and moan and clutch at my shoulders. The blanket beneath us shifted with each thrust, sand whispering against fabric, the ocean providing a percussion to our symphony.
"More," she demanded, her hips rising to meet mine. "Harder, Egon. I won't break?—"
I gave her more. I increased the pace, driving into her with controlled power, each thrust rocking her body, each withdrawal making her whimper with loss. The sound of our joining—wet, intimate, primal—blended with the crash of the waves until I couldn't tell where the ocean ended and we began.
"Look at me," I commanded, my voice guttural. "Tori, look at me."
Her eyes opened, glazed with pleasure, and locked onto mine. In their depths, I saw everything—her trust, her desire, her heart. And I knew, with a certainty that transcended logic, that I would never want another woman for as long as I lived.
"You are mine," I told her, the words torn from my soul. "You are my heart. My mate. My forever."
I captured her mouth in a kiss that swallowed her response, that merged our breath, that sealed the vow I’d just made. My hips snapped forward harder, faster, driving us both toward the edge of oblivion. She broke first, her orgasm crashing through her with enough force to arch her back off the blanket, her inner muscles clamping down on me in rhythmic pulses that tore a roar from my throat. She screamed my name into the night, the sound carrying over the ocean, and I felt her pleasure in my own body, felt the echoes of her release vibrating through every nerve.
