“Need you now,” I pleaded. I didn’t want to be teased or kissed or petted. I needed him inside my body. I needed to feel the stinging stretch of him, the thickness of his cock keeping me rooted to the earth. “Sarkin, hanniva!”

“Take me in your hand,” he growled. My fingers curled, my grip tight, and his hips bucked forward when I slid my hand down. “Fuck, aralye. I never thought…”

“Thought what?” I breathed, my eyes going half-lidded at the feel of him in my palm.

“Never thought it would be like this with you,” he admitted, his brow furrowing in an almost angry expression. But I knew better now. “I thought Lishara’s blessing was behind us.”

I thought I understood what he was saying.

“This need feels almost worse,” I confessed, running my fist down his cock again, my thumb swiping over the sensitive head, smearing his pre-come, making him grit his teeth. “How do you want me?”

He laughed, but it was low and humorless. “I want you in every way, Klara.”

A shiver dragged its way up my spine like a slow touch.

“I’m afraid it will never be enough,” he growled, glaring. As if it was my fault alone.

I kissed him again, and his tongue swept into my mouth. It felt like he was devouring me. Tingles started all over my body until I was trembling. The adrenaline was still pumping through me, still making me feel like I was flying.

“We’re talking entirely too much,” I said against his lips, the raspiness and urgency in my tone sounding like a little growl of my own.

He groaned, his hands threading through my hair. He pulled me back with a fist in my hair, my throat exposed to him, as our eyes connected. My breathing went shallow.

“Do that again—give me your little growl. Tell me what you want, princess, and I’ll give you whatever you need.”

“Make love to me, Sarkin,” I pleaded.

His expression flickered. I saw his molten determination bloom, his hot, burning eyes roving down my body, as if he was envisioning everything he would do to me.

“Beg me with your little Dakkari word,” he commanded, his thumb dipping between my legs, gentle and teasing over my sensitive clit. My thighs trembled.

“Hanniva,” I said. His eyes closed, and in my grip, I felt his cock pulse and harden even further, if that was even possible. “Hanniva!”

He pushed me up against the cliffside, my back against surprisingly smooth stone. The expanse of the Tharken cliffs was before us, a breathtaking view in itself, but all I had eyes for was my husband.

He moved me bodily, hitching me up as my legs wrapped around his hips. Reminiscent of our first time in Lishara’s temple, only instead of a heartstone pillar, my back was against the cliffs.

We both groaned in satisfaction and relief when he slid deep inside without warning. I was open to him like this. I took him easily, with no resistance, my body wanting, needing. A desperate little thing, and it was hungry.

Our lovemaking was quick. Like falling off Zaridan, this moment felt like I was out of my body. I felt only sensations. I felt the drag of my hand across his shoulders. The tightness between my thighs, the pleasure rising with every bump of his dakke against my clit, rubbing against me with perfect friction and pressure.

I felt his lips at my neck. I felt his hot breath explode against my skin with every powerful thrust. I felt my legs tighten in time with the muscles flexing in his backside. My heartbeat was so loud it sounded like the great rush of Zaridan’s wings.

When my orgasm hit, it blinded me. The whole world burst into starlight. My scream echoed throughout Tharken long after I’d unleashed it. Relief and ecstasy came. I wasn’t aware that I was crying until after the most powerful wave of it was over. When I opened my eyes, they were blurry with unushered tears. Belatedly, I realized that Sarkin was groaning, his thrusts jerky and slowing as he gave me the last of his strength, as the lashes of his come filled me.

When it was over, I hugged him to me as tears dripped down my face. Again I felt the rapidness of our hearts against one another. Soon, as they slowed, their beats began to match.

Sarkin maneuvered my legs to the ground.

“What are you doing?” I whispered, not trusting my voice as I watched him slide to his knees before me.

I was shy when he parted my thighs, though I was curious. His thumb traced over my sex, and I jumped, biting my lip, anticipation curling in my belly.

In disbelief, I watched him lean forward, his tongue darting out as he lapped between my thighs. My lips parted, tingles exploding across my skin, my scalp prickling. When his tongue curled around my sensitive clit, I sucked in a sharp breath. He was gentle, rubbing his soft lips against the bundle of nerves, and I started to pant. He was holding my gaze, those molten, multicolored eyes watching every expression that flickered over my face.

He liked to see what he did to me.

My eyes closed as I felt desire bloom deep. This time it felt different. It felt slow, but it felt endless. It wasn’t rushed or desperate. He licked and kissed between my thighs, lapping at our combined mess, the mess we’d made together, and he didn’t seem to care at all how perfectly wicked that felt.

“Sarkin,” I breathed, wanting him again, not thinking it was possible so soon. We’d barely caught our breath.

He rose and captured my lips. I sucked at his tongue, tasting what he had. My fingers dug into his shoulders, and his hands came up to my breasts, pinching at my nipples, making me arch into him.

“Again?” I gasped.

“Again,” he growled. “We’ll make camp here tonight. I’m nowhere near done with you yet, wife.”

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Chapter 30KLARA

I’d only ever read about what it felt like to fall in love.

But as I sat between Sarkin’s legs, looking out over the quiet darkness of the Tharken cliffs, with bright stars and a silver moon creating a kaleidoscope of beauty overhead, I wondered if this was what it felt like.

I was exhausted. The wild swings in my emotions that day were so vast that I wasn’t even sure I believed them. All I knew right then was that we had a fire going, my belly was full and fed, we had a warm fur blanket draped over us, and Sarkin’s arms were around me.

“Do you hate me for what I did today?” came his quiet question, his lips pressing against my shoulder.

We’d barely spoken in the aftermath of our lovemaking. We’d been ravenous for each other, to the point of obsession. Even after the moon had begun to rise, we’d still been going. Only after I’d begged for a reprieve, sore between my thighs, my eyelids drooping and my stomach rumbling with hunger, had Sarkin relented. He’d called for Zaridan with the black band on his wrist and retrieved his leather satchel. Supplies for our night, including a leather band that he would use to tie our ankles together before we slept.

“No,” I answered, though I did take time to think about it carefully. He’d created a terror in me I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to forget. But he’d also given me a great gift. A gift of freedom.

He’d taught me what it felt like to defy death. He’d untied every last thread I had knotted inside me. He’d made me new.

I felt…powerful.

Was this what he felt like, bonded to an Elthika? This knowing, this sense of invincibility?

“You were worried about that?” I asked, turning my head to look at him.

“Don’t misunderstand me,” he told me carefully, reaching up to trace the curve of my face, his fingers running over my scar. “I will never regret what I did to you today. It was necessary. But I never wanted to hurt you.”

My entire body hurt, but somehow I felt weightless.