The answer is her hands, which fist in my hair and yank me closer, like she can’t stand any distance at all. She bares her throat, eyes on fire, daring me to do more. To be more. To take what I want.
I don’t need any more encouragement.
I mouth along her collarbone, sucking and tasting and teasing, and the scent that pours off her is pure want. It’s in the air, in my blood, in every muscle that aches to touch her more, to mark her as mine. I feel her nails rake along my arms, sharp and demanding, and it makes everything inside me coil tight with anticipation.
Behind me, Finn finally speaks — a soft, appreciative sound, like a rumble of thunder in the distance. Koa’s breathing harder, but he doesn’t interrupt. He doesn’t need to.
For now, she’s mine. Mine to explore, mine to taste, mine to make come undone.
And I intend to do exactly that.
I press my mouth to the base of her neck again, right over the spot where instinct tells me I could claim her, and I linger there, letting my breath fan out over her damp skin.
She laughs, but it’s shaky. “What, no more talking?” she manages, voice barely a scratch.
I grin against her. “Didn’t think you’d want to waste time on words right now,” I say, and then I bite again, just to prove the point.
She moans — a real one this time, no teasing. The sound runs up my spine and I chase it, mouth and hands moving in tandem, learning every inch of her I can reach.
The room is silent, except for us. For her. For the way I make her unravel.
And I want all of it.
You taste like fire, I want to say, but I don’t. I just show her instead.
I slide my hands down her sides, tracing the curve of her waist, the flare of her hips. Her breath hitches as I hook my fingers into the waistband of her pants, tugging them down slowly, revealing more of her heat, her slick. I can feel her heartbeat pulsing through her body, echoing in my own chest.
I dip my fingers beneath the fabric of her underwear, brushing against the soft curls there. She gasps, her hands tightening in my hair, pulling me closer. I can feel her wetness, her heat, and it sends a surge of desire through me. I slide my fingers lower, parting her lower lips, feeling her so slick and ready.
I find her clit, that small bundle of nerves, and I circle it gently with my fingers. She bucks against my hand, a moan escaping her lips. I can feel her body tensing, her muscles contracting, as I slip two fingers inside her.
She’s tight and hot, her body gripping me like a vice. I press my thumb against her clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles, feeling her hips jerk in response. Her breath comes in short gasps, her body writhing against mine as I build her pleasure higher and higher.
“Please,” she begs, her voice a raw whisper. “Please, don’t stop.”
I have no intention of stopping. Not until she’s screaming my name, not until she’s come undone around me. I curl my fingers inside her, stroking that spot that makes her cry out, her body convulsing. I can feel her getting closer, her body tensing, her muscles fluttering around my fingers.
“Let go, brat,” I murmur against her skin, my voice a low growl. “Come for me.”
And she does. She comes so beautifully, gushing slick all over my hand and soaking the blankets below us, but it’s not enough. I want to taste her but I’m too impatient, and I figure there will be plenty of time for that throughout the duration of her heat. Right now, I’m aching to be knot-deep inside her, and from the way she’s writhing and grinding against me, she wants my knot too.
I shift my position, aligning myself with her entrance. She whimpers as I rub my length against her, coating myself in her slick. Her eyes meet mine, pleading and desperate. “Please, I need your knot. Please,” she begs, her voice hoarse with desire.
I don’t make her wait. With a single, smooth thrust, I push into her, feeling her stretch around me. Her heat envelops me, and I groan at the sheer intensity of it. She’s so tight, so wet, and every inch of her clings to me, pulling me deeper. I start to move, slow at first, letting her feel every ridge, every vein, as I slide in and out of her.
Her moans fill the room, each one more desperate than the last. I can feel her body responding, her muscles gripping me tighter, her hips rising to meet each thrust.
I pick up the pace, my hips slapping against hers as I drive into her with more force. Her breath hitches with each thrust, her body writhing beneath mine as she takes me deeper anddeeper. She’s so slick, so ready, and the sounds of our bodies coming together fill the room, raw and primal.
“More,” she gasps, her nails digging into my back, pulling me closer. “Harder. Please, I need your knot.”
Her words send a surge of heat through me, and I give her what she wants. I fuck her harder, my body slamming against hers, the bed shaking with the force of our movements. She’s so tight, so hot, and I can feel her body gripping me, trying to pull me even deeper.
The pressure building at the base of my cock is relentless, a throbbing ache that grows with every thrust. I know what’s coming, the way my body is gearing up for the inevitable, and the anticipation is exquisite and excruciating all at once. I can feel my knot starting to swell, thickening and straining as it drags along the sensitive rim of her entrance with every movement. She must feel it too, the way it pulses inside her, because her eyes widen in startled, wild delight. Her lips part on a gasp, breath shuddering out of her chest. She clings to my shoulders, legs wrapping tighter around my waist as she draws me impossibly close, her entire body shivering with anticipation.
I meet her gaze, and in her dilated pupils and the flush rising up her throat, I see her hunger. She wants this as much as I do — wants to be claimed, filled, stretched to her very limit. My pace starts to falter as my knot engorges fully, each thrust grinding the swelling mass against her, making it harder and harder to move. The friction is maddening, the pressure building toward a fever pitch. I can feel her responding, her body spasming around me, pulling at my knot as if she’s desperate to lock me in.
She whimpers, the sound somewhere between pleasure and agony, and clutches the back of my neck, dragging my face down to hers. “Please,” she begs, voice trembling and desperate. “Bite me. Don’t stop, please?—”