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Good. He wanted her untamed ferocity. Deserved it.

“Fill me, Brand. Please,” she implored—not for the first time. “I want it. I miss it.”

Brand’s rhythm stuttered at the plea, a pit opening in his stomach.

That was the problem.

He…couldn’t seem to get there.

Hard as a fucking rock, absolutely mindless for the feel of her, but his own peak was out of reach. Had been since they started this hours ago.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

Her whimper was half sob. “Who said we’d be done?”

“Shite.”

He gripped her waist and slammed her down, over and over, ramming himself into her. Begging his cock to give her what she wanted. What would please her.

And then she was gone.

A blink and her dainty foot planted itself in the center of his chest, kicking him backwards, his head landing at the foot of the bed.

He raised a brow, cock jumping at the sight of Luna standing above in all her glory. “We’re misting in bed now?”

Luna scoffed. “I am, anyway.”

She misted again, suddenly on her knees between his spread legs, and her grin was fucking wicked.

“What are you doing?” Rhetorical. Brand knew exactly what she had in mind.

He’d never taken that particular pleasure from her—for good reason. Too many past lovers treated it as a chore and he hated that feeling. Nothing was more sure to kill his desire than bloody pity.

Brand always made sure to regain control before she gained the upper hand. Besides, he never wanted to be the only one gratified, knowing she’d be left wanting. He hardly knew how to accept such an act when he garnered most of his satisfaction from hers.

His heart stumbled, nerves igniting down every limb. “I said I wasn’t done with you,” he rasped, hoping to make her reconsider.

“I know.” She wrapped a hand around the base of his cock, stealing his breath. “But you never bothered to ask if that’s what I wanted. Well…”

Luna dragged her tongue up the back of his length, swirled it around the head, and swallowed him down in one, smooth motion.

“Weeping fuck.”

She pulled him from her lips with a pop. “Since you’re so preoccupied with my pleasure, allow me to inform you that I”—she swooped down and up again—“am truly”—and again—“pleased by this.”

Brand’s groan was entirely involuntary, ripped from his body by the pull of her mouth. The wet, searing heat. Luna’s fist pumped with her, that sea glass stare locked on his face, and he swore she was daring him. Lulling him into some kind of trance.

His hand had a mind of its own, tangling in her wild hair before he knew what was happening. Digging into her scalp because he wanted to feel her rise and fall motion—the same way he’d never get enough of her lush hips, of his fingers sinking into her flesh, when he was buried to the hilt inside of her.

Luna hummed her approval, brows furrowing as she ground herself down into the mattress.

Sisters save him, she did enjoy it.

“Don’t you dare hold back,” she’d said.

Burning Solyrian. If she wanted her mouth fucked, who was he to deny her?

Brand snapped, his hips bucking from the bed to meet her. Over and over. Luna’s muffled moans vibrated their way straight to the very center of him, his body winding tighter with every plunge. He was obsessed with her reddened lips and her twining tongue. With her sharp, painted claws pressing crescent markings into his cock. With⁠—