“Of course.” Need coursed through her. It felt like a spark had been lit the moment she and Flynn first met, and it had been steadily growing since then. Now that she’d forgiven him, the spark had transformed into a burning fire.
She needed him.
Octavia raised her arms, and Flynn reverently pulled the garment over her head. She hadn’t replaced the band around her breasts earlier, a decision which she was thankful for now.
The witch’s gaze darkened with pure, primal hunger as he drank in the sight of her. She loved the way he looked at her, loved the need reflected in his eyes, loved the growl that rolled through his chest at the sight of her. The way Flynn looked at Octavia was doing wonders for her self-esteem. She’d neverhated the way she looked, but no one had ever made her feel as good as the witch did right now.
“Good gods, Octavia,” he rasped, dropping the tunic. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
The way he looked at her made her feel like a goddess of seduction, and she loved it. A cool breeze blew into the cave, causing her nipples to pebble.
Feeling uncharacteristically shy, she fought the urge to cover her bare breasts. “Do you think so?”
“I know so,” he said with conviction. His hands cradled her cheeks, and he kissed her again. She couldn’t help but melt against him. When his lips lifted off hers, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her leggings. “May I take these off?”
She was already halfway naked. Why not finish the job?
She nodded, and he kneeled in front of her once again. He kissed her legs, slowly tugging the material down. With each meeting of his mouth against her flesh, the self-consciousness she’d been feeling dissipated. By the time he directed her to step out of her leggings, she was filled with an intense feeling of rightness.
Octavia stood bare before Flynn as he returned to his feet, his gaze sweeping over her. “No man has ever been as lucky as I am right now,” he said huskily.
She tugged on his tunic. “I think you’re a little overdressed for the occasion.”
“Ah.” His eyes twinkled, catching the light of the glowing mushrooms. “I suppose that’s true. Allow me to rectify the situation.”
He reached behind him and grabbed the back of his tunic, pulling it over his neck in a smooth movement.
Octavia’s mouth dried, and her legs wobbled. She sat, grateful for the couch behind her. Between the glowing lights and the hoard’s golden glimmer, Flynn looked like… well, likea god. His chest was sculpted, and he was muscular but not bulky. A scar ran diagonally from his left shoulder to the middle of his chest, giving him a distinguished look. And then her gaze dropped even lower, following the V of his abs. There was a defined bulge that had her licking her lips.
Yes, stopping here for the night had definitely been a good idea.
“What about your pants?” she asked, her voice raspier than it had been a moment ago.
Flynn moved towards her with a gleam in his eyes. For a moment, she forgot which one of them was the predator because he looked like he wanted to eat her. The more she thought about that, the more she realized she didn’t have a problem with that at all.
What could she say? She found his apology compelling and attractive.
“I’ll get to them.” He kneeled on the couch, one leg on either side of her, and slowly lowered his head. His lips hovered over hers, and his breath was warm as he whispered, “Eventually.”
She inhaled sharply, and he kissed her again. They became a tangle of tongues and teeth as he kissed her until she was hot all over, the heat having started in her core and spiraled through her entire body.
The witch didn’t stop there. He kissed a trail down Octavia’s neck, nipping and sucking along the way. His cock pressed against her core, already incredibly hard.
Gods, she couldn’t wait to get her hands on it.
Octavia reached out to touch him, but he grabbed her hands and held her wrists above her head.
“Careful, beautiful,” he purred. “Not yet.”
She stared at him through hooded eyes. She could pull her hands back if she wanted to… but she didn’t.
Flynn released her hands, dipping his head as he cupped her breasts. “Gods, your skin is so warm,” he murmured against her before drawing her nipple into his mouth. He did something with his tongue that sent bolts of pleasure through Octavia.
“Dragon,” she half-moaned, half-screamed as his hands continued their carnal, torturous path. “Hot.”
He made a sound of approval, releasing her breast before moving to the other one. The wonderful torture continued until Octavia was writhing beneath him, calling his name. The air in the cave thickened and grew heavy with the scents of their mutual desire.
“Flynn, please,” she moaned as he continued his trail of kisses. The space between her thighs was soaked, and she shifted her hips, seeking the friction she so desperately needed.