“Maybe.” I throw my head back against the stones and bite my lip as his fingertips graze the slick skin between my thighs. Oh gods. Thirteen years of stealing my heart means he knows exactly what I like—while I’m still trying to work out his own little secrets.
My dark prince likes to be in control, though he’ll cede it to me if I demand it. But sometimes I like the way he captures my wrists and presses me against the bed—or a wall. And I love the feel of his teeth in my skin, as if he wants to mark me.
“Maybe I just like knowing I have a little secret from the world,” I whisper in his ear. “Maybe I like feeling that slickness between my thighs whenever you look at me, knowing I can have you whenever I want. Maybe I just want you to lift my skirts and fuck your way into me.” I curl his hand around a fistful of fabric. “Just. Like. This.”
“Mmm.” His gaze darkens. “Are you wet, Vi? Have you been dreaming of what I’d do to you once I finally got you alone?”
I bite his lip. “All night.”
Especially when I saw Lucere smiling at him.
It’s one thing to know he’ll never look her way, but the very idea she might try makes me want to stake my claim upon him. I’m feeling not at all myself tonight.
“Enough talking,” I tell him.
His smile holds all manner of sins. “I like it when you’re a little bit possessive.”
Thiago shoves my skirts up, this thumb stroking between us. A delicious shiver works its way through me, but it’s not what I want. If I give him a chance, he’ll spend hours torturing me.
I just want him inside me.
The timing’s better, and I’ve been drinking bitter nettle tea every day.
Capturing his face in both hands, I kiss him desperately, and I think he gets the idea, because his hand dips between us, but it’s not me he’s touching.
And then he steps forward, his hips wedging themselves between my thighs. One hand hooks under the curve of my ass as he lifts me and impales me with one smooth thrust, driving my back against the wall.
My fingers dig into his shoulders as my body is forced to welcome him. I’m dripping wet, and yet he’s large enough that my body needs to accustom itself to him, and some part of me loves that fierce ache.
Mine.
He’s mine, and no one will ever take him from me. I want to feel his possession. I want to wake tomorrow with my body aching and know that my first thought will be a memory of tonight.
Firelight flickers in the distance.
A myriad of shapes dance around it as the people of Ravenal seek to celebrate our arrival.
Anyone could see us.
But when I look up, Thiago’s not watching them. He watches me, as if he wants to own every thought that races through my mind.
“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” he breathes as he thrusts with ruthless intent within me. “You look like all the stars woven into one.” His gaze dips to my breasts. “You look like you were made for me, and me alone.”
“I was,” I whisper.
His gaze jerks to mine.
“As you were made for me. Did Maia not show you my face? Did She not promise that we were meant for each other?”
A shudder runs through him.
I can sense the Darkness within him wanting to break free. He’s always fought it, trying to cage his own nature.
“Harder,” I whisper as the stones bruise my backs and hips. “Show me that we were made for each other.”
And he does.
It’s not sweet or gentle. This is need. This is a claim. Mine, says his body, and I surrender everything that I am, drinking at his mouth as he fucks his way in and out of me.
It’s a battle to see who will break first.
I laugh as I squeeze my inner muscles, watching feral need ignite in his eyes. But then his teeth graze my nipple, and his hands grip my hips, and everything feels wickedly good.
I let him ride me beneath the moon, head thrown back and spine arched unabashedly. Firm fingers dig into my thighs, the corded muscle in his throat clenching as if he’s getting close, before he throws his head back with a hiss.
I want him to lose it.
I want to have him wild and uncontrolled. I want his gasp. I want the little tremor that shivers through his abdomen when he comes. I want to see his white teeth sinking into his lower lip.
I want him undone.
Clenching my inner muscles around him, I work him until the point where I know he’s about to lose it. And then I capture his face and kiss him.
It’s sloppy and messy, and somehow, he sees it as his turn. Slipping from my body, he flips me onto my front on the grass, and then he’s back, driving into me from behind.
“It was my turn!” I protest.
“I’ll make it up to you,” he promises, and then he thrusts into me hard, fucking me from behind with my legs curled up beneath me.
Blessed Maia. I clutch the grass and his hand curls over mine, our fingers lacing together.
Each thrust slows, until he’s grinding over something deep inside me.
“Vi.” A hot gust of breath whispers against my cheek, and then his other hand wraps around my throat.
“Don’t stop! Don’t—”
I come with a soft cry as he gives one last thrust, and he shivers over me, grinding with slow intent before he pulls free at the last minute. Hot seed gushes on my leg, and the second I feel it, my heart stutters a bit.
This was the deal we both made.
The price of my bargain with the Mother of Night.
Bitter nettle tea notwithstanding, we cannot risk allowing his seed to take root.
We both collapse on the grass, breathing hard.
Thiago curls over me, his teeth skimming up my
