"Anything else?" The question sounds rougher than intended. My dragon is done waiting. Done holding back. The claiming urge pounds through me like a second heartbeat, insisting I take what's mine.
"No." She reaches up, fingers threading through my hair, pulling me down until our mouths are a breath apart. "Claim me, Finn. Make me yours."
The last thread of restraint snaps.
I kiss her with controlled violence, teeth on her lower lip hard enough to draw blood. She gasps and I claim the sound, tongue sweeping into her mouth, tasting copper and want and the storm on her breath. Her hands claw at my shirt, tearing fabric. I grab her wrists, pin them to the wall above her head.
"Dragons don't ask," I growl against her mouth. "We take."
"Then stop talking and take." Her pulse hammers against my palm where I hold her wrists captive. "I'm done waiting."
I release her wrists to strip her with efficient violence. Her shirt tears under my hands, buttons scattering across stone. Her bra follows, shredded. She reaches for my clothes and I stop her, guiding her palms to my chest instead.
"Touch me." It's a command, not a request.
She flattens her palms over muscle and bone, nails dragging down my chest. I let her explore briefly before pulling her hands away, pinning both wrists behind her back. She archesin response, breasts pressing forward, and I take what she's offering.
My mouth finds her throat first. Teeth scrape over her pulse point, not breaking skin but promising what comes later. She whimpers and the sound goes straight to my cock. I move lower, tongue tracing her collarbone, teeth biting the upper curve of her breast.
"Finn—"
"Quiet." I close my mouth over her nipple, sucking hard. Her back bows off the wall. I switch to the other breast, using teeth this time, and she cries out. I want her loud. Want her desperate. Want her so far gone that thinking becomes impossible.
I release her wrists and drop to my knees in front of her.
Her pants come off in pieces. The denim tears under my hands, impatience overriding finesse. Her underwear follows. Then she's bare in front of me, skin flushed and breathing ragged, and I can smell her arousal sharp and clean beneath the salt air.
"Spread your legs." She does, obedient and trusting and mine.
I grip her hips hard enough to bruise and press my face between her thighs.
The first taste of her makes my dragon roar with satisfaction. I lick into her with long, slow strokes, learning the shape of her, what makes her gasp, what makes her hips buck against my mouth. When I find the rhythm that has her trembling, I maintain it with ruthless precision. Tongue circling her clit. Pressure building. Her hands fist in my hair, pulling hard enough to hurt, and I growl approval against her flesh.
"Finn, I can't—I'm going to?—"
"Come." The word vibrates through her. "Come on my tongue so I know exactly how you taste before I fuck you."
She breaks with a cry that echoes off stone. I hold her through it, tongue working her through every pulse and shudder, until she's boneless against the wall and trembling.
Then I stand, lifting her, and carry her toward the ocean pool.
The three elements needed to complete the claiming: storm, fire, ocean. Wind drives rain through the cave entrance, rippling the pool's surface. Lightning reflects in fractured white streaks across the water.
I lower us both into the pool, cool ocean water rising to our waists. The contrast hits immediately—cold ocean biting into dragon-heated skin. Her gasp turns into a moan as I press her to the smooth rock at the pool's edge, the water amplifying every sensation. My clothes are already gone, stripped away with hers, and there's nothing between us except intention and the ocean lapping at our skin.
Her legs wrap around my hips. The heat of her core presses against my cock, slick and ready, and every instinct demands I drive into her now. Claim her. Mark her. Make her mine in the most primal way possible.
I don't.
Instead I rock against her, letting her feel the size of me sliding through her folds, the head of my cock grinding over her clit with each slow thrust. She whimpers, nails scoring my shoulders, hips rolling to chase more friction.
"What do you want." The question comes out rough.
"You. Inside me. Now."
"Not yet." I grip her jaw, forcing her to meet my eyes. "You feel that? That's just the beginning. When I finally fuck you, you're going to come so hard you forget your own name."
"Promises." But her voice shakes.
