Page 144 of Dare

People held hands while making love, did they not? I moved on reflex, out of sheer need, and extended my fingers. Over the surrounding grass, Flare grabbed them and laced our digits into fists. The gesture tugged on a dormant part of me, driving it to the surface.

We clenched, held fast. The veins in my wrists rose, strained.

I bowed my head into her shoulder, summoning every ounce of willpower to keep my thrusts even. The muscles of my abdomen crunched with each measured pass. Flare angled her head toward me, kissed my temple, then broke away on a moan.

Time disappeared. We maintained a silken pace, our waists moving in sync, Flare’s buttocks rolling, her cunt pumping down on my cock. Rather than making love to my little beast, the tides turned. Now we made love as equals.

And like equals, we acted in tandem.

Flare twisted. “I need to see your face.”

“As I need to watch you,” I agreed.

Ravenous, we pried ourselves apart. I whipped my cock from inside her, and she gave a needy whimper as I spun her to face me. Those irises sizzled, pouring light all over me, the brightest fucking thing in this forest.

Tacking her to the spring’s edge, I cupped Flare’s profile in one hand and hooked the other leg over my waist, bracketing her in place. She steepled that limb high and grasped my ass, urging me to fuck back into her.

Clutching Flare’s cheek and thigh, I whipped my cock. She jostled upward, her mouth parting on a moan. My mouth braced the side of her throat. My growl struck her neck, the noise followed by another as I rekindled our rhythm.

Flare cried out and dug her fingers into my buttocks, the commotion punctuated by each slow beat of my pelvis.

“More,” I husked into her skin.

And she lowered her pussy farther around me.

“More,” she begged.

And I made love deeper into her.

“More,” I hummed.

And she spread herself wider.

Howls clawed through me. Fuck drowning or sinking. I would expire like this—would die shouting with her.

Lifting my head, I snatched her breathless mouth. Flare whined into my lips, her tongue yielding with mine. The kiss tested my limits more than anything else, its delicacy cracking through layers of ice.

I fucked her as a shattered prince. She made love as a free woman.

“You’re mine now,” she sighed.

“And you were made for me,” I swore.

In hate. In fear. In lust.

From the beginning, I had belonged to her. More than a throne, a kingdom, or a court, she commanded my every move I made.

Flare dug her fingers into my ass, hauling me deeper. She hoisted her other leg over my waist, driving me harder.

Vivid water illuminated her slack features. Yet I needed to view the rest of her, to witness as much as possible. The better to adjust and accentuate my efforts.

I lifted Flare from the spring and curled her backward. Guided by the motion, she reclined across the grass, sprawling herself for my gaze. Only her petite calves floated in the pool, framing my hips.

There she was. My little beast.

Flare’s short waves spilled across the green. Dusky nipples. Scarred stomach. Glistening thighs. Out of the water, blue droplets held their pigment and glazed her body like a gem.

A rarity.

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