He surged up.
One moment I was on top, in control, and the next I was on my back in the nest with his weight pressing me down and his wings rising around us like walls. The feathers brushed my barearms, my shoulders, softer than silk and warm from his body. He drove into me and I cried out, pleasure and shock and the overwhelming feeling of being completely surrounded.
I felt it through the bond. The word he couldn’t form, the possessive roar trapped in a throat that had forgotten how to shape language. Mine. Mine. MINE.
“Yours,” I gasped. “Always. Tavrin, I’m yours.”
He set a pace that stole my breath. Deep. Relentless. His body curving over mine, his wings blocking out the world, his golden eyes fixed on my face like he was memorizing every expression I made. I counted without meaning to: one thrust, two, three, each one driving me higher, my scribe’s mind cataloging sensation because I didn’t know what else to do with so much feeling.
I could feel his fever breaking. The frantic heat giving way to something steadier, something sustainable. The bond was working. I was pulling him back from the edge.
And I could feel something else building. A pressure low in my belly, growing with every thrust, every slide of his body against mine. I was close. So close.
“Let go,” he said, and his voice was clear now, present, him. “I want to feel you. Let go.”
I shattered.
And he followed.
His release poured through me, golden and overwhelming, felt his wings snap wide above us. Something locked into place between us. A snap. A seal.
