With a grunt, he pushed inside her. One powerful thrust that shoved a wave over the stones near her hands and spilling out onto the floor. But the feel of him... Oh, she’d missed him. Too big, too much, and yet never quite enough.
He was everywhere. His hand now holding one of her breasts, her hair tumbling free as he grabbed onto her hip, anchoring her to him as he rutted against her like a beast possessed.
She was the one possessed. She was the one who wanted to consume him, brand him, mark him so that he knew no matter how many times he said he owned her, he didn’t. He was hers. He’d been the one to find her a spirit, so she was immortal. No one else would ever worship her the way he did, and she claimed that here and now.
And as he worshiped at the altar of her body, his grunts echoed in her ears. She hissed out words that sounded like, “Faster, harder. Fuck me, damn it.” It all made sense.
He wanted to claim her, but she wanted him to worship her.
They’d both been fighting for the same thing. Wanting the same thing.
And as his fingers pinched her nipple hard, forcing her mind back into this moment, with him and no one else, Varya realized this was right. Together. They were meant to be doing this even as the waves rose higher with each of his powerful thrusts.
She was his. He was hers. They owned each other, body, mind, and soul.
With a gasp, she coiled tighter around him. Clenching, squeezing, hearing the curse as he felt her react.
“That’s it, treasure,” he grunted, somehow pushing inside her even harder. “Give it to me.”
And together they spiraled out of control. She felt herself sinking, that spirit inside her appeased by the madness of their frantic fucking. And she felt the heat of him spurting inside her, his thrusts slowing as he leaned over her.
His panting breaths brushed against the back of her neck even as he slid his hand up her bare back. There were no words in this moment. Nothing they could say.
Only the knowledge that everything had changed.
ChapterThirty-Eight
He hated to admit it, but he lost himself in her for a while. Varya reacted to him like she couldn’t get enough of his touch, his taste, anything that she could get her hands on. He made sure she was fed and hydrated, and then he fucked her into oblivion.
He’d never once thought that he would meet a woman with a passion as deep as his. Greed was always the partner who asked for too much. Who had to wait while the other person recovered, while his skin itched for more.
With Varya? For the first time in his life, he’d had to leave a bedchamber before he hurt himself. His cock actually ached. There were bruises all down his ribs and hips where she’d held onto him a little too hard, and scratch marks down his back that had long ago started to bleed.
It was... Perfect.
And of course, he’d told her a few more details about himself in the short breaks they took. He told her stories about visiting Lust’s kingdom, about how he’d cornered Selene and made her realize that she actually wanted his brother more than she could admit.
In return, she told him stories about growing up in his kingdom. Troubling stories where she recounted spending hours upon hours searching for food and water. Living on the streets after her parents died, while Altan kept her safe. She’d been the runt of the pack of children that roamed those streets.
Though he hated the man for having claim to what was Greed’s, he could also see that he owed Altan his thanks. Without the desert stranger, Varya very well might not be here.
He closed the door carefully behind him, trying his best to not wake up the sleeping beauty who had proven herself almost too ravenous for him. Though Greed could admit that might be the spirit he’d poured inside of her.
She wasn’t acting like the same woman he knew so well. And potentially lo—
He stopped himself before the thought even came to life. He didn’t love her, he couldn’t love her, and nothing had changed for him. Unlike his brother, Greed was so deeply rooted in his own emotion that he would remain this way forever.
Varya would be all right with that. She didn’t expect or want him to change, and there was beauty in that. She loved him for who he was, and he was certain that she loved him. He’d asked for every emotion from her, and the woman was a giver.
A shudder ran down his spine and buried itself in his tailbone. Just the thought of how good she “gave” made him want to turn back around and wake her up.
Fuck waiting. Who cared if he rubbed himself raw? This was worth it.
He’d already turned before his brain caught up with him. If he was sore, then she was as well. And he had to take care of her. His most precious treasure could not be harmed or dented by anyone. Not even himself.
So he dragged his exhausted body to the kitchens, preparing to at least get some food into himself before he keeled over. Thankfully, it was still nighttime and none of the servants would see his staggering pace or the scratches down his chest. And there were plenty of those.
He shouldered the door open, staring down at the marks with a soft smile on his face. He’d found himself a lioness. Even though she’d made it clear she wanted to know more about him, that hadn’t dulled her need. In fact, the more he told her about himself, the more she wanted him.