“Too much?” he rasped.
“Never enough.”
She pulled his face back to hers, their lips meeting with a hunger that bordered on desperation. He lost himself in the feel of her—the softness of her curves, the warmth of her skin, the little sounds she made as his fingers explored further. He traced the curve of her hip and gently parted her legs. She was slick with need, and his heart thundered as he stroked her, learning what made her gasp and shiver, what made her whisper his name.
“Egon,” she pleaded.
“Let me please you,” he whispered against her neck, his fingers circling and teasing.
Her hips bucked against his hand, urging him on, demanding more. He obliged willingly, sliding one thick finger into her heat. She clenched around him, so tight and perfect he nearly lost his grip on his control.
“More,” she demanded.
He added a second finger, stretching her gently, preparing her to take him. He stroked and teased, coaxing waves of pleasure from her until she writhed beneath him, her cries echoing through theforest. Only when she lay spent and shivering did he withdraw his hand.
“Are you ready?” he murmured, his voice rough with the effort of holding back. “Truly ready?”
She met his gaze, her eyes heavy-lidded with desire. “I’ve been ready for this since I was sixteen.”
Her words broke the last remnants of his control. He positioned himself between her legs, his cock thick and throbbing with need. She reached for him, guiding him to her entrance.
“Slowly,” she whispered. “You’re very… large.”
“For you, always.” He pressed forward, his breath hissing between his teeth as her body yielded to him, inch by agonizing inch. He paused, letting her adjust to his size before moving again. Every instinct urged him to thrust, to claim, but he held back, unwilling to cause her any pain.
“More,” she demanded.
He obeyed, sinking deeper into her heat, feeling her body stretch to accommodate him. The rush of pleasure threatened to overwhelm him, but he forced himself to go slow, to make sure she was ready. Only when he was fully sheathed in her did he allow himself a moment to breathe, to savor the way she fit him like a second skin.
“Lyric,” he whispered, his voice ragged.
“Egon,” she answered, her eyes locked on his.
He began to move, pulling back until just the tip of him remained within her before sliding back in, long, deep strokes that made them both groan. Her nails dug into his back, urginghim on, and he increased his pace, thrusting harder and faster, his hips snapping against hers. She arched into him, taking everything he gave, her cries rising in pitch until they shattered the night.
His control faltered, his rhythm becoming frantic as his orgasm built. He reached between them, finding her swollen nub with his thumb, stroking her in time with his thrusts.
“Now,” he growled. “Together.”
She cried out his name as her body clenched around him, triggering his own release. He poured himself into her, his hips jerking with the force of his climax, his roar echoing through the forest as his knot expanded, locking them together. They clung to each other, trembling and gasping, riding the wave of ecstasy until they lay spent and breathless.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead, her cheeks, her lips, whispering words of love and devotion he’d never spoken to anyone else. She curled into him, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. For the first time in his life, he felt whole—complete in a way he hadn’t thought possible. His Beast purred with contentment as the mate bond hummed between them. He’d felt it snap into place as soon as he’d entered her, but it wasn’t the sudden shock his brothers had described. It was more a confirmation, an acknowledgment of something that had been there all along.
“Rest,” he murmured. “I’ll keep watch.”
She nodded sleepily, her breath warm against his skin. He tucked the furs more tightly around her, shielding her from the cool night air. His knot would remain for a while, binding themin the most intimate of ways, and a fierce surge of possessiveness swept through him.
My mate.
Had the Old Gods sent him to her, he wondered as he started to drift off to sleep. Had they heard the prayer he’d been too afraid to voice?
“Thank you,” he whispered into the night. “I will do everything I can to prove myself worthy of this gift. Nothing will ever harm her—not as long as I draw breath.”
As his eyes closed again, he thought a hand touched his cheek, as gently as his mother once had, all those years ago.
CHAPTER 18
Lyric’s muscles ached—both from the day’s journey and the long night of love-making—but she couldn’t bring herself to regret it as she followed Egon up a narrow mountain path. A smile kept curving her lips and every time he looked back at her, he returned it.