JAREN
They’d been traveling in silence for close to two hours before he finally broke under the tension. He knew Veralie’s mind was awhirl with everything that had occurred. Fuck, he could feel how anxious and angry she was, like part of her soul had nestled in beside his own. Their bond was so close to being complete that he thought he’d go insane with anticipation.
“I should have told you about your family.”
“Yes, you should have.” Her words were clipped, and she remained facing forward.
“My motives were selfish. I knew how you felt about becoming a Matherin Princess, and I feared you would feel the same about being Bhasura’s Nlem Snadzend and change your mind.” Her posture loosened a smidge, but she still didn’t turn.
“You let me believe I had no living family, Jaren. Yes, I’m upset about my mother, but I’d already known she’d died during the rebellion. Finding out I’m partially to blame is painful, but the joy I feel knowing my father is alive?” She shook her head, “I suppose I don’t need to explain it. I think—I think maybe you can feel it.”
He hesitated. “I can.”
“I think I felt you earlier. It was strange, like I was suddenly feeling two different emotions at once. Is the bond complete?”
Gods, did he wish that. “No, but it’s as close as it can be without taking the last step.”
She tilted her head, “What made it change? What step is there left to take?”
“A soul bond is fated and exists whether or not two Magyki wish for it, although it can be…rejected if one or both refuses to recognize it. Even if acknowledged, it does not solidify unless it is also accepted. When I told you we were bonded, your body instantly acknowledged its existence, strengthening the pull between us, but you did not accept what it meant.”
“So today…”
Jaren pulled her hands out of her lap and laced their fingers, unable to resist the need to hold her. She sighed, relaxing into him. “Your soul fully accepted my own.”
Tipping her head back to look up at him, Veralie’s silver eyes roved over his face, bright with understanding. “I claimed you.”
A thrill shot through him. “You did, little star.” He brushed his nose along hers, savoring her scent. “Our bond will be complete when I claim you.”
An emotion that was not his own flickered through him. It was there and gone in a flash, but he’d felt it—confusion and…hurt.
She tried to face forward, but he grabbed her jaw, forcing her to meet his eyes. “You misunderstand me. I’ve wanted to claim you from the moment your star-fire scent invaded my senses and my life. But I want every piece of you before I do.”
He leaned down, watching her eyes flutter shut as he kissed her forehead. “I want your thoughts,” he dropped his lips to her eyelids. “I want your body,” he brushed a featherlight kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I want your soul,” he let his breath ghost across her ear. “But mostly, I want your heart.” He placed an open-mouthed kiss on the column of her neck, watching her skin erupt in gooseflesh when his canines scraped against her.
“I want to claim all of you, preferably while I’m buried deep inside of you.”
She tilted her head, baring more of her neck to him, and he almost lost his mind. Wrapping his hand around her throat, he slid his other between her thighs. Veralie’s body began to shake as he deftly undid her trousers and, ever so slowly, eased his fingertips inside. He bit back the desire to thrust his hand all the way, instead caressing her skin in teasing strokes, working his way down.
He clenched his jaw, biting back a curse when his fingers finally met their goal; his cock hardening almost painfully from how ready she was. Her scent alone could send him to an early grave.
“You’re so wet for me, aitanta.”
He adjusted his posture to keep them steady before focusing his attention on her clit, pressing down and causing her to moan and buck against him.
He rotated his fingers in tight circles, his motions hard and demanding. Her head fell back, and the whimper she released was fucking ecstasy. He kept up a steady rhythm, kissing and licking along her neck and ear as he did.
She gripped his thighs, her nails biting through the fabric as her breathing grew ragged. Shifting, she desperately tried to grind against his fingers only to let out a frustrating mewl when their current situation prevented it. He chuckled and picked up his pace, eyeing the unblemished skin of her neck and shoulder.
In-tune with every subtle change in her, he sensed when she was about to break. Unable to control the urge, he struck, sinking his teeth into the flesh of her shoulder. The sound of his name on her lips turned into a scream as her orgasm slammed into her, and he fought not to shoot his load.
As it ended, her muscles went lax, but he tightened his hold, refusing to move neither his hand nor his mouth until the last tremor left her body.
Wrapping a fist around her plait, he twisted her face to meet his, capturing her mouth with his own and drinking in her pleasure like he was a male dying of thirst.
“Don’t heal.”
Veralie looked up at him, fighting to regain her breathing, “What?”
“My mark. Don’t heal it.”
She raised a hand to the small puncture wounds on her shoulder, “Your mark?”
“When we get home, I don’t want anyone, pizlath or zhu, to question that you are spoken for.” He didn’t miss the flare of excitement in her eyes when he said the word home, but she quickly covered it, narrowing them.
“That’s quite presumptuous.”
He released her, moving his hands back to the reins. “I presume nothing. You’re spoken for.”
Her eyes sparked. “Well, maybe I’ll change my mind once I have the opportunity to meet a few more, less arrogant, options.”
He raised a brow, “Less arrogant?”
“And less violent, for sure.”
“Violent. Hm. Tell me, little star, did I, or did I not, see you crack a man’s head open with a rock?”
She flushed, facing forward. He laughed, then laughed harder when the color intensified. Ignoring him, she adjusted her posture and inadvertently rubbed against him. He hissed out a breath, and she froze. He was still hard as fuck, and the fresh mark visible on her neck was not helping in the least.
“Jaren—”
“Just rest, little star. We have several long days of travel still before we reach Eastshore.”
Her scent deepened, and gods if he didn’t love the way she responded to him. “What if I want to touch you?”
Groaning, he tightened his grip. “Pha. I am one touch away from ruining a perfectly good pair of trousers.”
She shuddered, her arousal flaring once more. “Rest, Veralie. We have all the time in the world.”
Her body stiffened, and a sudden sense of uncertainty pulsed in his chest. “Do we?”
She might as well have dumped a pail of cold water on him. That fucking chinbi srol. He should’ve ripped his tongue out for making her fear her future.
“Do not let the rash words of a jealous man put fear in your heart. We do not know the truth about the queens.”