“Get my vest off,” he growled. “Need to feel you against me.”

My fingers flew to the silver catches, but my hands were shaking in my need. I only got two undone by the time Sarkin kicked off his boots and pants. He was silent as he ripped at the material, the silver clasps flying across the stone. My hands were on his chest before he even shrugged off his vest, fingers digging into the solid, warm muscles of his pectoral. I brushed them over his hardened, flat, dark nipples, eliciting a sharp inhale from him.

Then my hands were everywhere, roaming, exploring. My inner thighs were still wrapped, but the tops of the bandages were getting soaked with my need.

I moaned when I felt his fingers brush my sex. It was like a zap of lightning went through me, and I nearly drew his blood when my fingernails dug into his skin.

“Fuck. You’re dripping for me, Klara.”

I couldn’t say anything but “Yes. More!”

My hips rocked against him as he touched me. My face lifted, wanting to feel him everywhere. His eyes were watchful though wild. If I didn’t know any better, I would say he even looked furious in his intensity.

“That feels so good,” I moaned, drunk on his gaze.

Sarkin’s gaze flicked to my lips. Just as his thumb brushed over my sensitive clit, making me jump and gasp, he took advantage. His head lowered and he captured my lips in a fierce kiss.

His lips were soft and warm. My head spun. I breathed into him, feeling his tongue stroke against my own, a deep groan building in the back of his throat. His hard cock was pressed against my soft belly, his hand between my legs, playing and strumming me like an instrument, and I felt thoroughly claimed by his kiss.

My knees gave out, but he caught me, holding me up with little effort, and before I knew it, I was up in his arms. His lips never left my own though I felt the loss of his touch between my thighs.

When my back met stone, I realized he had me propped up against one of the heartstone pillars. The trickle of lake water ran over my body, little tendrils that felt like faint touches, stroking over me. A stream spilled over my shoulder and ran over my nipple, making me squirm against Sarkin.

He released my lips, biting his way down my jaw and over my throat. He sucked and kissed me there, and a shiver raced up my spine, the chamber spinning. How could I be so incredibly sensitive there?

I was loud, crying out uncontrollably from his wild kiss, one of my hands gripping his shoulder and the other diving into his thick, wavy hair, the strands silky and surprisingly soft.

I want to feel it tickle between my thighs, came the wanton thought, and even more arousal dripped from me. There had been a salacious image in my book of just that. I’d been curious ever since about what that must feel like.

His lips trailed down my neck and went straight for one of my nipples, sucking on it hard, making my back arch off the pillar. He lapped at the heartstone water that skimmed off my nipple, his tongue darting out to flick the sensitive peak. Around the room, I could hear the whispers, the beat and pulse of them growing louder and louder.

It might have been Lishara’s presence here…or it might’ve been Kakkari’s.

Maybe they are one and the same, I thought.

“Gods,” I breathed, my brow furrowing, looking down at Sarkin with a half-lidded gaze. I wasn’t scared or frightened of what would come next. I didn’t care if there was pain. All I knew was that I needed him inside me. I needed to feel him, hard and possessive and wild, joined with me in the most primal of ways. “Hanniva!”

I felt the press of his cock between my legs, the slick head brushing over my entrance.

“Wrap your legs around me. Tight,” he growled, his voice dark and deep, nearly unrecognizable in his lust. His hands came to my waist, hitching me up and holding me securely as my legs wound around his hips, my ankles locking around his back.

I was shamelessly exposed, and when I looked between us, I saw his cock. My lips parted, the first pinprick of doubt going through me, wondering if we would fit. A moment later, I realized it didn’t matter. We needed to, or I would die from this agony, this “blessing.”

The head was bulbous and slick. With parted lips, I saw a bead of shimmering pre-come push from the slit at the tip, and I nearly whimpered as it rolled down the side. His shaft was impossibly thick, but it was the heat that radiated off him that surprised me the most.

Just like full-blooded Dakkari males, I saw his dakke. The swelled bump above the root of his cock. I wondered how that would feel when we were joined, pressed and pulsing against my clit.

“Sarkin,” came my needy voice.

“Is this what you want, aralye?” he rasped, running his slick tip over my clit.

Stars burst in my vision, the back of my head hitting the pillar, my neck exposed. I felt his mouth go to my nipples, and when there was a telltale flutter between my legs, I thought, panicked, I’m going to come.

“Yes!”

I felt the burning sear of him as he pressed into me, my eyes flying open at the sudden pinch.

How will he ever fit? I lamented.

“Tight,” he said in a low tone. “Too tight.”

“Don’t stop,” I begged when I felt him retreat. “No!”

“Believe me, princess, there is no threat of that ever happening now,” he grated. The muscles in the column of his throat were stretched tight, his jaw gritted, his body shaking with the needful energy I sensed just under the surface. Untapped. Waiting to be unleashed.

I gasped, feeling him push back inside.

Too much, too much, I thought silently, feeling when he met the burning resistance of my inner muscles.

He retreated again.

“You’ll have to take me, Klara,” he rasped, looking into my eyes, one of his hands lifting to grip the back of my neck.

His lips pressed against mine, and I kissed him back eagerly, becoming addicted to his taste and the sweep of his tongue. The back of my throat tingled with the sweetness of it.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed into me.

With that, he pumped his hips once, hard and swift, until he was seated fully and deeply inside.

I tensed around him, but my need drowned out the retreating pain. Lishara’s blessing had softened the edges of pain already—I hardly felt my rider’s burn or the ache and pull of my muscles. Nothing else mattered except this. Us. Right in this moment. I would handle the consequences later.

Sarkin’s groan reverberated into my chest, as closely as we were pressed together. I’d hardly dragged in a deep breath before he pulled back…thrusting even more deeply again. His dakke pressed against my sensitive clit, and I gasped. I could feel the pulse of his heartbeat there, the sensation indescribably intimate.

My teeth chattered together, feeling only a brief bloom of pain that slowly melted into heat, spreading between my legs. I felt so full of him. That strength and unleashed power between my legs felt incredible.

And when he unleashed it? When a warning growl ricocheted up his throat, momentarily drowning out the whispers I heard in the chamber and I felt his pace begin to quicken between my thighs?

I didn’t know if I would ever be the same.

There’s no going back now, I thought.

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Chapter 20SARKIN

Lishara’s temple chamber was filled with the sounds of mating. The slap of flesh, driving and primal. The sounds of desperate moans and satisfied growls.

I felt Klara’s nails dig into the backs of my shoulders, and in my want, I wished she would do it harder. I wanted her mark on me, just as I wanted to see my mark on her. I wanted to look upon it days from now, to remember this ache and wildness that was nearly too punishing to feel real.