His eyes flashed, the amber burning away the black, but this time it was with the heat of lust instead of the cold desperation that had been there before. "Careful what you wish for, Pup."
My own blood heated. He grabbed my breast, fingers nimbly finding my nipple and teasing it until it was a taught peak and making me pant with need.
We had barely had time to breathe since the binding, let alone anything else, and his touches brought the memory of our session in the cavern back to the surface, making me ache for him.
I finally succeeded in freeing him and stroked his cock, making him groan as I pumped up and down.
Flynn couldn't wait any longer. He shoved my breeches down, his hands rough and impatient. There was no more foreplay, no gentle courting. We didn't have time for that, not between running from a goddess and dying by degrees. We needed to feel life.
He lifted me, his strength effortless, and I wrapped my good leg around his waist the best I could, given that it was tangled with fabric. The cold, hard surface of the crystal tree was against my back, and the boiling heat of the Wolf was against my front.
He thrust into me.
I cried out; the sound lost in the chiming of the glass leaves. It was sharp, deep, and overwhelmingly real. The friction was a grounding wire, channeling the chaotic energy of the garden, the bond, and the fear into a single, white-hot point of contact.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice a rough bark.
I opened my eyes, not even realizing that I'd closed them. He was staring at me with an intensity that bordered on madness. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
"Do you feel that?" he rasped, driving into me again, hitting a spot that made my vision blur. "Is that a monster? Is that a weapon?"
"It's you," I gasped, my fingernails digging into his shoulders. "It's just you."
"It's us," he corrected.
He set a punishing rhythm, fast and hard, trying to outrun his own thoughts. I met him thrust for thrust, my body meeting his wiry strength. The gray patches of my skin felt less numb now, the impact of our bodies sending shockwaves through the rigid lattice of my nerves, waking them up.
The bond flared. Kaelen’s fire licked at the edges of my mind, not jealous this time, but protective, a ring of fire keeping the world at bay. Thane’s gravity anchored us, keeping us from spinning off the earth. Elias’s clarity sharpened every sensation, the slide of skin, the catch of breath, the smell of crushed black orchids beneath our feet.
But Flynn? Flynn was the storm’s center.
Every time he pushed inside me, he pushed the shame back. He replaced the memory of red snow with the reality of now. Of me. Of the way I arched into him, the way I said his name like a prayer.
"Aria," he choked out, burying his face in the crook of my neck. He bit down on the sensitive cord of muscle, his teeth scraping, claiming.
"I'm here," I promised, my hands roaming over his back, feeling the scars, the tension. "I've got you. I'm not letting go."
He shuddered, his rhythm stuttering, breaking. The walls he had built, the self-loathing he had wrapped around himself like armor, cracked.
"Gods," he sobbed, a dry, harsh sound. "I can't... it's too much."
"Give it to me," I ordered, pushing my magic into the bond, widening the channel. "Give me the noise, Flynn."
He did.
He poured himself into me, body and soul. The climax hit him like a tidal wave crashing against the shore, a violent release of tension that racked his entire frame. He groaned, a long, guttural sound of surrender, pulsing inside me, filling the void, chasing away the cold of the Silvering.
For just a moment I thought he was going to leave me wanting, but then he growled low in his throat and began to move again, his hips snapping against my own and his fingers deftly sliding between us until I followed him over the edge a second later. My world narrowed down to the smell of musk and the feeling of being completely, utterly full. The pleasure was a bright, sharp knife cutting away the static, leaving only clarity as I pulsed around him.
We stayed like that for a long time; him holding me against the tree and me wrapped around him, our breathing harsh and ragged in the quiet garden. The glass leaves chimed softly, a gentle lullaby after the storm.
Flynn rested his forehead against mine. His eyes were closed, his eyelashes damp. The manic energy was gone. The smell of fear had faded, replaced by the scent of sex and satisfaction.
"You are..." He trailed off, shaking his head. He opened his eyes. They were clear. The shadows were gone. "You are dangerous, Aria Pandoros."
"I learned from the best," I whispered, brushing a thumb over his swollen lip.
He let out a huff of laughter, weak but genuine. He pulled out before slowly lowering me until my boots touched the ground,though he kept his arms around me, supporting my weight as my stiff legs protested.
