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Before I can even lower my legs, his hands are under my hips, hauling me up off the bench. He catches my mouth in a bruising, breathless kiss, sliding his tongue against mine, forcing me to taste the heady, musky sweetness of my own release.

"Mine," he growls against my lips, breathless and wrecked. "Every drop of you."

"Yours," I pant against his mouth, my arms wrapping around his neck. "Always yours."

He turns me around, pressing my palms flat against the wet slate wall. The cool stone is a shock against my flushed chest, but the heat pressing into me from behind makes it impossible to care.

"Spread your feet, lass."

I widen my stance, arching my back, pushing my hips back toward him in an instinctive, desperate invitation.

Lachlan steps close, his broad chest flush against my back, his breath hot and ragged against the nape of my neck. One heavy hand reaches around my waist, his thick fingers guiding the blunt, burning head of his cock against my dripping entrance.

He pauses there for a single, agonizing heartbeat, letting me feel the impossible width of him, the sheer size of the anchor he’s about to drive into me.

"Look back at me," he commands, his voice thick.

I turn my head, my cheek resting against the wet rock, my breath fogging the stone.

His jaw is set, his eyes completely consumed by the gold of the beast, nostrils flaring as he tracks the rise and fall of my ribs.

"Take it, Vivienne."

He sinks inside me in one long, deliberate thrust.

A ragged, keening groan escapes my throat. He fills me completely, stretching my slick channel until the fullness borders on an ache—a delicious pressure that drives every coherent thought straight out of my skull. My fingers slip against the wet slate before curling tight, anchoring myself against the wall as his hips meet mine with a wet, heavy slap.

Lachlan buries his face in the hollow of my shoulder, his entire frame shuddering as a guttural, half-shifted roar rumbles deep in his chest.

"Gods," he gasps into my skin, his hands gripping my hip bones with bruising force. "So tight... like you were made for me."

"I was," I choke out. "Lachlan, more."

He pulls back until only the tip remains, and then drives back in with a brutal, rolling surge of his pelvis that lifts my heels off the floor.

The rhythm he sets is punishing and rhythmic, matching the roar of the water pouring over our heads. Every thrust drives deep, hitting a spot so profound that sparks of gold and blue light dance across the wet stone in front of my face. The power in our bond surges with every impact, grounding through our hips, washing away the last traces of fear, leaving only the wild heat of his claim.

"Vivienne," he groans, his teeth scraping the curve of my neck, right where the pulse hammers beneath my skin. "Hold on to the wall."

His hand slides down between our bodies, his thumb finding my swollen clit, circling with firm, relentless pressure while he pounds into me from behind.

The friction is unbearable. The ache coils up again, sharp and overwhelming, sweeping through my veins like wildfire. My hips buck back against him, meeting every heavy roll of his hips, desperate for the edge.

"Lachlan—now⁠—"

"I’m here, love," he murmurs, driving so deep, driving hard. "Take it, Vivienne, I know you can."

The climax hits suddenly, locking my body into pleasure and wringing a wild cry from my lips. I clamp down around his cock, pulling him deeper, refusing to let him go.

Lachlan stiffens behind me.

His hips drive home to the absolute hilt, and he freezes.

A strangled noise rips from his throat, echoing off the high stone ceiling. He pushes deeper, and I moan as he grinds against me, and then the base of his shaft begins to swell.

My breath locks in my throat as a shocking fullness balloons inside me.

It isn't just his cock anymore. Something’s stretching me wider, tighter, locking into place.