His mouth crashed back into hers—hungry, consuming, a claiming kiss that left no air between them. Every sound she made he drank like it was meant for him alone. She moaned against him, desperate, breaking what little control he had left.
When his lips tore away, they branded her skin—down her throat, across her collarbone—until he closed over the swell of her breast.
Her back arched, a cry spilling free, her fingers tangling in his braids to hold him there.
“Yes, Amerei,” he groaned, the words hoarse, wrecked.
“Every sound you make—I’ll take it as command. Every shiver, every cry—mine.”
His mouth lingered, tongue circling her in slow, coaxing strokes before flicking against her until her breath fractured into soft, uneven gasps.
“Do you hear yourself?” he rumbled, voice frayed with restraint.
His lips brushed her skin.
“That’s your body begging for me, Amerei—telling me how to touch you.”
Her eyes fluttered closed, a sob of pleasure catching in her throat, her body rising into his mouth as though shedidcommand him closer.
He dragged his tongue in one last aching circle before releasing her with a groan, lips wet and shaking against her skin. His mouth trailed kisses along her neck, breath hot, even as his hand slipped lower—gliding over her hip, then sliding betweenher thighs. Her body jolted, instinct taut, but his murmur steadied her.
“Easy, love… I’ll never hurt you.”
His fingers brushed her, feather-light at first, then with careful pressure, and her gasp broke into a cry. Her thighs trembled, torn between closing tight around him and opening wider in surrender.
“Viktor…” she moaned, her hips arching to meet his touch, her voice breaking on his name.
A sound tore from him—half curse, half worship.
“Dask, look at you… opening for me. You’re ready for me, love—ready for all of me.”
Her breath caught, and when he pressed deeper she clung to him, gasping her answer through a nod—then words, soft but fierce:
“Take me, Viktor. I was always yours.”
He groaned, the sound ripped from his chest, his body strung taut on the knife-edge of control. His jaw locked, muscles shaking as if one careless motion might undo them both.
“Dask, Amerei…” His forehead touched hers, his voice a rough whisper. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me.”
His hand slid up to cradle her face.
“Take a deep breath,” he murmured, thumb brushing her cheek. “Now let it out slowly.”
She obeyed, chest rising against his, and he nearly broke.
He kissed her brow, then lowered his lips to her ear, his words a plea and a promise.
“Look at me, love. Only me. Let me ruin you.”
Her eyes flew open, locking on his—and holding.
The first press inside her was holy ruin—tight, wet heat closing around him until his restraint shattered into a groan that shook him from throat to spine.
“Amerei—”
His voice cracked, her name ripped from his lips like prayer.
A broken sound escaped her as he slid in inch by inch, her fingers clutching his braids, dragging him closer as if she couldn’t stand even a breath’s distance. Then the stretch hit her—sharp, startling. She gasped, nails biting into his shoulders.
