I’m inclined to do more than just anticipate, though. “Unfortunately for you, I’m a very impatient sort of princess.” I run my hands down his broad, strong arms and then grab handfuls of my skirts. Before he can react, I climb onto his lap, and the hands loosely at my waist are suddenly clutching me tight. “There, that’s better,” I say as I straddle him. “Don’t you think?”

Nemeth is silent. His face is impassive as I settle in on his lap, my legs hanging over his thighs, my skirts bunched up to my waist. I feel small against him like this, and it reminds me that when he covers me in our bed, he’s going to truly cover me. His size is absolutely enormous, one hand practically spanning my back.

And that’s not the only part of him that’s enormous. I think about his cock, and the knot at his base, and I’m breathless. I flutter my lashes up at him, because this is now the territory of my favorite hobby—tormenting Nemeth. Not in a bad way, of course. I just love watching the need in his eyes as he gazes upon me. I love him hungrily devouring me with his eyes as if I’m a feast he can’t wait to dig into.

I wriggle on his lap, carefully hooking one heel behind his back, and then the other. I make sure not to brush his wings, and as if sensing what I’m doing, he lifts them out of the way, his gaze never leaving my face. “What are you doing, Candra?”

“I’m savoring,” I say, voice light. “Isn’t that what you want us to do? To savor the moment? Allow me to savor your body pressed to mine and think about what tomorrow will bring.”

I shimmy against him, pressing my sex against the rapidly hardening cock sandwiched between us.

The breath escapes him, and I smile. “I promise our clothes will stay on,” I say. “But I’m afraid that’s all I can promise.” And I rock my hips suggestively against him. “Is that all right, or should I stop?”

Nemeth growls low, one big hand palming the back of my head and pulling me forward. “Woman, you will be the death of me.”

He kisses me hard and then drags me down against his shaft.

Ah, yes. I savor this moment, because it’s clear that for all his growling, Nemeth wants to play, too.

I work my hips, rubbing against him. “This is savoring, isn’t it? This is just a little taste. To whet our appetites.”

“This is a tease,” he tells me.

“But you like it,” I lean back in his arms, because it puts pressure where my pussy hits his cock. “You’re not telling me to leave.”

“I am not,” he agrees. He drags me down against his shaft again, and my eyes flutter closed.

I whimper as he thrusts upward, driving against my bloomers. It’s been so long since I’ve had an orgasm—since that day he held me down and finger-fucked me—that I haven’t realized how bad I need one until just now. I dig my nails into his skin, clinging to him. “I need you. Please, Nemeth, I need you.”

He growls. “I’ve got you, Candra.”

“Then make me come,” I whisper, rocking my hips frantically against his. “Please, please make me come. I need it.”

With a feral sound, he surges out of his seat and crosses the room, heading for the bed. I hold on tightly, ecstatic that we’re getting somewhere. Maybe he’ll rip my clothes off and fuck me senseless like I’ve been needing. The thought makes me want to squirm with excitement.

Nemeth pushes me down onto my back and he’s on top of me. My skirts are up to my waist and I moan as his big heavy body settles between my thighs. One big hand grips my hip and this time, when he thrusts, he practically lifts me off the bed.

Oh gods that’s good.

He drives against me again, the hard bulge of his shaft pressing against me. I quiver, trying to hold on to him, but he’s so much bigger than I am. I want to kiss him but there’s no way I can reach.

“Free your breasts,” he pants as he drives against me again. “Free them so I can see them.”

Moaning, I fumble with the laces on my bodice, ripping the delicate ties apart. I always wear my corset tight, as I like the feeling of everything being held and caged into place, and so the moment the laces are freed, my breasts spill forth, jutting from the constraining material.

Nemeth hisses at the sight, driving between my hips again. With his free hand, he reaches for me. I hold my breath, waiting for him to palm my breast, but instead, he carefully rolls my nipple against his thumb.

I wasn’t expecting such tenderness, not as he drives between my legs like a ravenous beast. I cry out, my pussy clenching hard in response.

“You’re going to look so pretty with my knot deep inside you,” he rasps, thumbing my nipple. “You’re going to be so tight around my cock, but I’ll make you feel good. I’ll work your pretty tits and rub your sweet cunt until you squeeze my knot and take all my seed.”

Oh gods, that sounds so good. As he rocks against me again, hot need pulses through me. I whine, needing him desperately. Urgent need is rippling through me, but it’s not quite enough. I need more to send me over the edge—a finger on my clit, a finger inside me, something. “Nemeth,” I pant. “Make me come.”

He leans in and growls low, a dangerous, feral sound. As he does, he pinches my nipple between his claws. The jolt of pain-pleasure is surprising, and as he drives against my pussy again, I come. It’s a hard, messy sort of climax, and I make choked sounds as he thrusts against me, rippling waves of pleasure shooting through me as he teases my nipple and then squeezes my entire breast tightly. The air departs my lungs as I clench and clench with my body’s reaction, and when I finally unclench, a little moan escapes me.

Nemeth thrusts against me one last time and then collapses over me, his big body practically burying me in the bed. Someone else must have come, too.

I giggle at how good I feel, holding him tight as he pants, his weight pressing me down into the blankets. “Now that was a savoring. I can’t wait for tomorrow.”

He groans, nuzzling against the top of my head. “You’re determined to exhaust me, aren’t you?”

Maybe just a little. He’s just too fun to be with. Even now, I can’t stop smiling. I stroke a hand down his shoulder. “Tell me about a Fellian ceremony for marriage. What does it entail?”

“Mmm.” Nemeth kisses the top of my head and then carefully rolls onto his back, minding his wing. I turn on my side, facing him. “The usual. A bath to cleanse yourself as you head into your new life. Vows before the gods and an offering of cake. The biting. The marking. The chase⁠—”

“The what?” I sputter, sitting up. “Did you say biting?”

He nods, facing me. “Yes. Give me your hand?”

I hold it out to him, and he traces the mound just below my thumb with one claw. “Here. We bite each other here and then ink is rubbed into the wound so that the mate’s marking remains for all time. Anyone that sees your hand will know that you are claimed, and the bite pattern is unique to your mate.”

I shiver with aftershocks as he rubs his thumb over the fleshy part of my hand. “Is it painful?”

“It is a bite. I will make it as good for you as I can.” His gaze slides to my mouth. “Yours will probably be more painful for me because those tiny teeth of yours don’t look like they tear flesh easily. My hand will be mangled by the time you are done with me.”

I laugh, slipping my hand out of his grip and batting his arm. “Be nice! I have perfectly normal human teeth. I’ll do as well as I can.”

“And I will enjoy it because it is my mate marking me as hers.” His eyes seem to glow brighter at the thought.

“Now what’s this about a chase?”

“After the bride and groom have given their cake offerings to the gods,” Nemeth continues, “The bride flees the groom. It is my duty to capture you—to prove my strength—and fly you across the threshold of our home.”

Except he can’t fly inside the tower. And his wing is wounded. “I assume we’ll improvise?”