His eyes snap to mine. “No, princess. We were made for each other. Now hold on tight.”
I do as he says, and he gathers me up in his hands. Then he yanks me up and then back down again, sheathing himself deeper inside me with each thrust until he’s buried to the hilt.
I’m making noises now, sobs and groans and incoherent pleading. Stark’s cock is filling me in ways I didn’t know I needed, so deep that it’s everywhere.
He sets a punishing rhythm, erasing all thought from my mind until all I am is this, here,us.
I throw my head back and realize with a jolt that he’s put a hand behind my head to shield my skull from the rock behind us. The thoughtful care for me—even as he’s fucking me roughly and desperately—careens me closer to the edge.
Stark nuzzles my neck and then nips his way down to my collarbone, fucking me senseless all the while. The night sky wheels above me, stars making trails of light against the dark. I shut my eyes and give myself over to sensation.
Stark’s rhythm speeds up, and I press my face against his neck, gathering and tightening as the world narrows down to just us. The pull of him inside me, the push as he fills me deeper and deeper—
One more thrust and I’m lost, my orgasm exploding through me like a snowstorm.
He holds me as I shudder, keeping himself deep inside me as I clench around his cock again and again.
It’s only when I start to come down that Stark picks up that rhythm again, thrusting into me as he pulls me down to him. Impossibly, he grows even harder inside me. I’m moaning into his ear, repeating his name, insensible, as he speeds up toward his own climax.
Then he’s shouting as he spills inside me, filling me with pulsing wet heat.
We pant and cling to each other, sticky with sweat, the cool breezes of the desert around us only just finally starting to register.
“Stark,” I murmur, and he pulls back to look at my face. The depth of emotion I see there scares me and settles me all at once.
I close my eyes and let my cheek rest on his shoulder, humming with contentment. Stark holds me close to him as his breathing slows, then slowly pulls away, finding what remains of our clothing. I push his hands away as he offers me the fabric, and he understands what I need without me asking.
Stark lays the layers of clothing down on the smoothest part of the ground and then gathers me to him.
Soon enough, I’m cradled by him again, bare skin to bare skin. Warm. Safe. Sated. I breathe in, and it smells like him—deep and musky and amber. I breathe out, and he shivers from the caress of it. The steady stroke of his calluses over my hip sends me to a quiet sleep.
It doesn’t last long.
I can’t have been asleep for ten minutes when sensations tear through my mental bonds—panic, fear, and excruciating pain. None of it’s my own.
I lurch awake, crying out.
Stark’s hands are on me, pulling me close like he’s going to shelter me from it.
“Meryn, focus,” Stark reminds me.
I blink rapidly and squeeze my eyes shut. My consciousness races along the bonds, seeking out the source of the suffering.
“It’s… Noemi,” I choke out.
She’s hurt. Her pain and terror are shrieking over our connection so loudly it’s like I can hear her screams from here, bouncing off the craggy stones all around us.
I’m on my feet and reaching for my clothes as I call Anassa. She tries to soothe me, but I won’t have any peace until I know Noemi’s safe.
The direwolves make short work of the distance Stark and I traveled by foot. We’re already dressed, my dress held together haphazardly by what’s left of its ties, Stark snatching his dagger from the sand, as our wolves sprint into the clearing.
“Back to the castle,” I tell Anassa shakily.
She snarls, channeling my fear and anger.“Get on.”
37
MERYN
