"Facts." I adjust the angle, letting the head of my cock catch at her entrance, pressure without penetration. "Tell me what you need, Lila. Use your words."
"I need—" She breaks off as I push forward slightly, barely an inch, then withdraw. "Please."
"Please what."
"Please fuck me." Desperation cracks through her scientific control. "Fill me. Claim me. I need to feel you inside me, Finn, please?—"
I drive into her in one stroke that seats me to the hilt. She's tight and wet and perfect, her body accepting mine with a scream that's half pain and half pleasure and all mine. There's no fumbling, no hesitation. This is claiming, not courtship.
I don't move. I hold myself deep inside her, letting her adjust, letting her feel every inch of me stretching her open. Water laps around us. Her inner walls clench around my cock, rippling, adjusting. The mate bond flares between us, fire and lightning connecting our nervous systems until I can feel her pleasure as clearly as my own.
"Look at me."
She does. Her eyes hold mine, pupils blown wide, and I start to move.
I set a punishing rhythm from the first stroke, driving deep and hard, every thrust pushing her deeper into the rock. The pool churns around us with each movement, waves crashing in time with our bodies. Her nails dig into my shoulders, drawing blood that the bond registers as pleasure and pain and possession. Every thrust drives her higher up the stone, every withdrawal makes her whimper with need.
"Mine," I growl against her throat. "Say it."
"Yours." The word breaks, breathless. "Finn, please?—"
"Please what." I bite down where I kissed her throat last night, teeth dragging over sensitive skin. "Tell me what you need."
"More. Harder. I need—" She can't finish. The muscles inside her tighten, clenching in waves that pull me deeper.
I unwrap her legs from my hips, hook one over my shoulder, changing the angle, driving deeper. The position lets me hit something inside her that makes her cry out with every stroke. I maintain the rhythm ruthlessly, watching her face, learning what pushes her closer to the edge.
"Touch yourself." Another command. "I want to watch you come around my cock."
The hand between us finds her clit. The moment she makes contact pleasure spikes sharp and bright. She circles the swollen flesh in time with my thrusts, and the dual stimulation has her gasping.
"Faster." I lean closer, voice dropping to something more dragon than human. "Show me what you do when you're alone thinking about this." The promise of more hangs unspoken—this becoming routine, expected, mine to take whenever I want.
Her fingers move faster.
The mate bond flares between us. Fire and lightning in her veins, in mine, burning through every nerve ending until I can't tell where I end and she begins. Her pleasure feeds mine, mine amplifies hers, creating a feedback loop that spirals higher with every thrust.
She comes first, crying out my name as her body locks around me. The bond explodes with her orgasm, dragon satisfaction roaring through the connection: mine, ours.
I follow her over the edge, burying myself deep as release crashes through me. But this isn't just sex. This is transformation. This is magic older than recorded history demanding completion.
At the moment of climax, I breathe dragon fire into her mouth.
The fire doesn't burn—it transforms.
She gasps against my lips as the fire flows into her, golden-crimson flames that don't consume but rewrite. Every cellrestructures. Every strand of DNA changes. Human becomes dragon, becomes eternal, becomes mine.
I sink my teeth into her shoulder, the claiming bite that marks her as dragon-claimed. Blood wells around my teeth, sweet and electric. The bond complete with finality, the telepathic link snapping open like a door I've kept sealed for centuries.
Analytical precision. Absolute certainty. Desire matching my own. And beneath all of it, love so fierce it steals my breath.
I feel her consciousness expanding into mine, experiencing what I am in a rush that would break a weaker mind. Millennia of loneliness crashing over her like a tidal wave. The weight of centuries spent isolated in the ocean, cut off from everything and everyone. Fierce possessiveness that borders on madness, the absolute need to protect what's mine because I've lost it before and nearly destroyed myself in the aftermath.
And beneath it all, the certainty that if I lose her the way I lost Saoirse, nothing will stop me from burning the world. She experiences all of it in heartbeats, understanding me in ways words could never convey.
She doesn't flinch. Doesn't retreat. She meets the full force of my damaged soul with acceptance brighter than dragon fire.
You're not alone anymore.Her thought travels the link, certain and clear.
