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Harth felt the jolt of her marking shock through him, felt the bond shimmer and crackle with an electric hum. She tasted his blood and grieved it, even as her heart thundered and her body came alive.

She’d pulled his head back, her fingers fisted in the long strands he kept pulled back. She should have loosened her grip, let him move, but she was taken, moving with him pinned between her teeth, her tongue tracing his wounds to soothe them.

They both trembled, something frantic and undeniable building between them, a current of power that left her breathless.

And when she finally sucked in a heaving breath and pulled away, her hands still in his hair, his throat still bared, she grazed her teeth over his Adam’s apple and he groaned. His grip on her hips tightened and he quivered.

She should let him go. Surrender. She’d told him she would, but for a moment she did battle with her wolf—the power thrumming in her veins igniting her wolf’s strength. But she managed to let go of his hair, let him lift his head. And when he did, opening his eyes to meet hers, his lion’s gaze alight with fire and somehow with love as well, Harth’s breath caught.

Strength. Fire. Passion. Protection…

Possession.

It was all there in his eyes. His groans turned animalistic, puttering and resonant, but he didn’t break the gaze, holding her to him, thrusting into her with increasing power and strength.

.....

And locked in his gaze, held by his heart, Harth’s wolf… submitted.

“My turn,” he purred.

Harth’s jaw was as slack as her body, as everything within her gave way—not because of his demand—though it was hot as fuck—but because she’d seen his heart. Seen his soul.

And there was nowhere safer in Creation. She knew.

So she closed her eyes and let herself sink into his hands, let him take her weight, let him do as he wished to her.

Purring with pleasure, he leaned her back until her hair trailed back into the water, then he licked his way up from her collarbones to her chin, his breath harsh and hot on her skin in contrast to the cold water.

“Let go,” he growled, reaching back to unlace her fingers behind his neck. “I’ve got you.”

Harth did as he asked, releasing him completely, letting her hands fall back and trail into the water as he splayed a hand between her shoulder blades and took her weight.

A strange, low growl puttered in his chest as he continued rocking into her, but held her there, one hand and steel-muscled arm taking her weight, the other tracing the line of her jaw, down her throat, to her breasts where, with heavy breath, he teased and played his thumb against her nipples until the pleasure began to jangle, lightning crackling from his touch to where they joined and back.

Harth moaned and reached for his arms to steady herself, but he only chuckled.

“Not yet, Love. Not yet,” he admonished her. With eyes closed she couldn’t see his lion eyes, but she felt them blazing trails down her body. Felt the edge of a growl in his voice. Felt the strength pulsing under his skin.

Then, just as the tension between them reached a fever pitch, as her body trembled, pleasure cascading through her, shimmering to herald her release, just when she thought he might finally mark her, Tarkyn grunted and pulled her off of him.

She gasped as the world spun when he flipped her, her hands reflexively reaching to catch her weight. But she’d barely found the silty bank of the river, barely begun to open her eyes, when he groaned her name and plunged back into her, pulling her hips back as he took her with such force she felt it in the soles of her feet.

Arms shaking, eyelids fluttering, she lost all sense of existence beyond him, his taking, his kiss, his touch. Her entire body shook as if she was fevered—and she was… but fevered by the intensity of pleasure he wrung from her.

He’d pulled her knees apart and taken her so that her belly rested on his thighs and she held her weight on her hands. But as she gasped and began to call for him, he slid his hands up from her hips, one splaying at her belly and pulling her up so she was arched, her knees straddling his lap, her back bowed, her head thrown back to rest on his shoulder, and his second hand… his other hand on her throat.

“I will make you mine,” he rasped through gritted teeth right next to her ear, an echo of her words. His palm blanketed her throat, his fingers held her jaw. She could barely move the way he had her arched like a bow, but she nodded, panting.

“Yes. Yes.”

“I’ll show all of them,” he snarled, repeating her words again, and Harth’s belly flooded with desire. She clenched on him and they both groaned. “You belong to me,” he hissed, the word rolling off to a growl as he pulled her chin back to the limits it could reach and then thrust into her with a long, guttural call as he bit down on the skin at the curve of her neck.

Harth’s body spun. Light sparkled under her eyelids and she cried his name as her body washed in a tidal wave of pleasure that overshadowed the flashing pain of his teeth.

The world disappeared. There was nothing but his body, his strength, his warmth. She was liquid in his arms, her body washed in wave after wave, her throat in his hands, her lifeblood pulsing just a finger’s breadth from his bite.

Then the fluttering, shimmering pleasure unfurled to fizzing in her blood. Starlight inside her, coursing through her. And, as if he’d thrown the curtains back on the window of her heart, she was flooded by the sunlight of him.

*****

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