She's beautiful like this—naked and exposed against cold stone. Mine. Later, we might both die fighting an enemy who's spent centuries planning my destruction.
So I claim her now. Completely. Until the bond burns so bright that death itself couldn't sever it.
I drop to my knees and her eyes go wide. "Spread your legs."
Her thighs part, already wet and glistening. My hands grip her hips and pull her forward, forcing her weight onto my shoulders. Then my mouth is on her.
She cries out and her hands start to drop but I growl against her flesh. "Don't move."
Her hands go back up, braced against stone, while I work her with my tongue. I trace slow circles around her clit that make her hips try to rock, but my hands hold her still. She's pinned. Controlled. Exactly where I want her.
"Finn, please?—"
"Be quiet." I drag my tongue through her folds, tasting arousal that coats my lips. "I'm going to lick this pussy until I make you come on my tongue while you keep those hands on the stone."
I feel her pleasure spike through the bond. The command turns her on, makes her wetter. Good.
I flatten my tongue and lick from entrance to clit in one long stroke. She gasps and I do it again, slower this time, savoring the taste of her. It's sweet and salt and that distinctiveflavor that means she's mine. Through the bond I feel what she's experiencing—the wet heat of my mouth, the slight scrape of stubble against sensitive inner thighs, the way anticipation builds with every deliberate pass of my tongue.
"You taste fucking perfect." The words vibrate against her flesh. "I could eat you for hours."
Her thighs start to shake and I haven't even focused on her clit yet. Just broad strokes, patient exploration, cataloguing what makes her breathing hitch versus what makes her moan.
I suck one of her lower lips into my mouth and she whimpers. Her desperate need crashes across the connection—the wanting, the building pleasure, the struggle to keep her hands raised when every instinct demands she grab my hair and grind against my face.
I reward the obedience with focused attention on her clit. Quick flicks of my tongue that make her cry out. "Stay just like that."
Two fingers slide into her while my mouth works her clit. She's so wet I meet no resistance, her body opening for me, clenching around the intrusion. Curling them, I find the spot that makes her whole body go taut.
"Right there." The sharp pleasure shoots through her when I press against that internal spot—I can sense it in the connection. "That's what you need."
I work her with ruthless precision now. My fingers curl brutal and exact against that sweet spot while my tongue circles her clit in the pattern that makes her thighs tremble. I catalogue every response through the connection—what makes her gasp versus moan versus that broken sound that means she's close to the edge.
"Finn, I need?—"
"Not yet." I slow my rhythm, keeping her hanging on the edge. "You come when I say. Not before."
She makes a sound of frustration and I smile against her flesh. Dragon fire heats my breath and I exhale warm air across her oversensitive clit. Her hips jerk and I press down harder with my tongue, holding her right on that knife's edge between pleasure and release.
"Please." She's begging now, voice breaking. "Please, I can't?—"
"You can." A third finger joins the others, stretching her wider, filling her. "You're going to hold it until I'm satisfied. Until I've tasted every drop of you."
Her desperation bleeds into mine. The pleasure builds and builds, cresting in waves that threaten to break with every stroke of my tongue. She fights it, muscles clenched, trying to obey even as her body screams for release.
When I'm satisfied she's desperate enough, when sweat sheens her skin and her breath comes in broken gasps, I suck her clit hard between my lips and growl. "Come. Now."
The vibration combined with permission shatters her control. Orgasm explodes across the connection as she clenches rhythmically around my fingers. I experience it from both sides—my satisfaction at making her fall apart, her overwhelming pleasure as every nerve fires at once. I hear the sounds tearing from her throat, feel the way her thighs shake against my shoulders, taste the flood of arousal that coats my fingers.
I work her through it, gentler now, drawing out the aftershocks until she's gasping and oversensitive.
Before she's fully recovered, I'm on my feet, spinning her to face the wall. "Hands on the stone. Ass out. Now."
Shaky legs move as I command and I kick her feet wider, positioning her exactly how I want her. She's bent forward at the waist, completely exposed, wet and swollen from my mouth. I stand behind her, feeling her heat even before I touch her.
"Feel this cock?" I press the head against her entrance, not entering yet. Just letting her feel how hard she makes me.
"Yes." She tries to push back, take me in, but my hands clamp on her hips, holding her still.
