Stronger. Always stronger.
I drag myself back over her, breath rough, beard slick with her.
She pulls me down, kissing me—tasting herself on my mouth.
Her body jolts at it.
“You like that,” I rasp.
“Need it.”
“Need these, too,” I say, sliding down her body, shoving the shirt up over her head and revealing a pink lace bra. Her nipples pebble through the fabric.
I growl, burying one in my mouth. Tasting lavender and honey and need of the blackest stripe.
My hands fumble with the clasp until she helps, and the fabric falls away.
I take her in fully.
“Beautiful,” I say, voice rough. “More than I imagined.” My voice sounds thick, near breaking.
She grabs my beard, pulling me back to her mouth. “Unlike you, I don’t bathe for an audience.”
“I wanted you to see,” I admit. “Wanted you to want me.”
Her hand finds me again, sensual and deliberate.
“Need to see how you’re different,” she whispers.
I freeze.
No more hiding.
“If I take you,” I say low, steady now, “I’ll fill you completely. Leave you with me. Always.”
Her pupils blow wide.
I take another long drag from a nipple, circling with my tongue until her back arches toward me, her heart racing.
I can feel her pleasure everywhere. In my chest, behind my sternum. Shimmering in the light from my tattoos.
I tangle my fingers with hers. The bracelet spins, goes molten like mercury, threading around both our wrists. My eyes widen. “You don’t know what this means.”
She’s too busy coming undone to answer.
The bracelet, metal which should suppress, quickens our bond. I look up, realizing it’s the same with the mineral veins pulsing around us. As if this cave and the mountain above us give their blessing.
I tug down my jeans and boxers. Her eyes drop to my cock, and she lets out a whimper, gaze fixed on the spot above. Unfamiliar muscle that vibrates and slides, already dribbling my arousal.
She quirks her mouth, eyes filled with wonder. “What does it do?”
“Locks us together. One.”
“Will it hurt?” she asks, voice trembling.
“The first time, yes. For both of us.”
Eliza stares at me, so engorged, angry veins line my length. She reaches down and wraps her fingers around it. “I can’t fully close my hand,” she whispers, looking up at me, fear and trust mixing.
