Page 166 of Dare

Yes, I could make it hurt if she wanted. Yes, she could take it.

No, I would not survive this.

“Divine Seasons!” Flare shrieked, her body tensing like a coil. “I can’t.”

You will.

I doubled my efforts, applying all my reserves to the act. My tongue pistoned and drank her arousal, then returned to her clit and patted the delicate flesh until her joints ruptured.

She came with a cry hard enough to split granite. I groaned against her pussy, the flesh quivering like a leaf against my lips. Only when she slumped did I start again.

No sooner did I release her clitoris than we launched off the table. I vaulted upright, yanked the oversized shirt from Flare’s body, and tore her off the table.

Hoisting her off the ground and striding from the dining hall, I made quick work of the distance. Crossing hallways and up stairways, I growled into Flare’s chortling mouth. While carrying her through the ruins, I kissed her to within an inch of our lives.

With the flat of my palm, I rammed open the ancient door to our suite. We still shared adjoining quarters, though now we occupied the same bed, alternating between rooms.

In Flare’s chamber, I dropped her onto the mattress so hard she bounced. As she crawled backward, I crawled forward, the bed creaking. I knocked pillows out of the way, and she wrestled with my pants, shoving them from my frame.

We’d had each other up against every surface. The walls. The floor. The furnishings. To say nothing of the locations in and out of the ruins.

Today, I did not give a shit about variety. I wanted her only in this bed.

Heat and sweat filled the room. Sheer drapes billowed from the posts.

Flare spread herself again, the span of my hips shearing her limbs apart. I snatched her wrists, tacked them overhead, and sought her mouth again. Flare moaned into the kiss, our tongues thrashing.

Yet a smaller noise also squeezed past her lungs, the sound watery. Like she might weep.

I lurched back, but she shook her head before I could ask. “You didn’t hurt me. I just …” Her gaze crumbled. “I don’t want this to end.”

Fuck. The entreaty stabbed me through the ribcage.

The tidefarer we’d finally built had completed numerous successful trips around the island. Transport would be ready whenever Flare was. Likewise, I had plotted my return to Winter, with every detail in order.

After Flare set out on her boat, I would sail to the mainland with the jester and princess, where they would deposit me at the docks. There, I would pretend to have been rescued by anonymous seafarers after having been stranded on a remote peninsula.

Flare would embark on her mission through Summer. I would return to Winter.

Even so, it would not end after parting ways. Despite the distance, we would send secret letters and return to each other, reuniting here whenever we could. That was the plan.

Yet. The key to her quest still evaded her, regardless of how vastly she’d been searching.

Until then, I wasn’t going anywhere. Neither was she.

I hissed into her mouth. “It won’t end.” Flare released a pleasured noise as I snapped my hips, the head of my dick nocking at her warm cleft. “We’re not leaving this room until I’ve fucked every sigh, moan, and cry from your mouth.”

“Then make it last,” she urged, whining as I flexed my waist and pitched my cock.

Tight heat sealed me to the balls. My growl tangled with her moan, our bodies quaking from the impact. I had breached her pussy before she’d finished that sentence.

Thus, I slammed into her again. And again. And fucking again.

I hammered my ass, the brunt of my cock jostling Flare across the mattress. Her tits swayed, and she bowed into me, her knees lifting toward my biceps and engulfing me deeper.

The motion nudged a softer sound from her. There was the first sigh.

Motivated by that, I rolled my erection out of her and whipped into those soaked folds once more, hitting a narrow place that she particularly enjoyed. This pulled a pliant noise from Flare. There was the first moan.

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