Page 107 of The Demon Crown

He poured soap into his palms, lathering it between his hands before he started on her shoulders. His fingers dug into her muscles and she couldn’t help herself. A low moan erupted from between her lips.

He stilled behind her, shifting ever so slightly back before he cleared his throat and continued.

“Again,” the voice whispered in her mind. “What a thrill.”

She shouldn’t. The temptation, though... It was too hard to ignore. Varya arched her back, lifting her arms over her head in a stretch that displayed her body for him to stare at. One more light twist of her hips and she pressed up against him, his hardness sliding between her cheeks.

Rocking against him only flared that need inside her a little brighter. It wasn’t much of an adventure, it was no tomb to raid or endless dunes to gallop across. But she had no idea what he would do next. And that little thrill was enough to satisfy.

A low growl rumbled in her ear. “Careful, treasure.”

“Why?”

“You are still not well.”

“I’m well enough.”

Well enough for this, at least. He was touching her too carefully, with too much intent. She wanted his hands, hot and hard, on her hips as he held her in place. She wanted to hear him panting, grunting, straining against her as he worked himself into a frenzy. She wanted... Wanted...

Another rumble against her back distracted her from those thoughts, even as his soapy hand slid over her belly. “Something is different about you. I cannot tell what it is.”

She could. The spirit he’d given her was running the show right now. Though, she was still very aware that she had a choice in this matter. But she didn’t want to choose. They both agreed on what they wanted to do.

The man they adored, probably loved, was right behind them. They were both slippery and alive.

What an adventure it would be to try this in the pool, as well. What a wonderful, thrilling, exciting time to be had.

Some thought in her mind blared with anxiety. This wasn’t like her at all, and Varya had never been one to actively seek out the most dangerous parts of her life. She’d always had some knowledge of when she needed to be careful. But right now? That wasn’t there at all. The natural ability to realize when something was going to be dangerous had flung itself out of her body.

Turning in his arms, she plastered herself against his chest. Her hands made quick work at the belt of his pants, tugging it free and letting it sink to the bottom of the pool around their feet.

“I’m alive,” she said, moving him through the water until his back hit the edge of the pool. “I’m alive and you’re alive and I don’t want to waste a single second of that.”

His throat bobbed in a swallow. “Varya.”

“Greed.” She hummed low in her throat, her lips going to his neck as he had just teased her before. He smelled like man and musk and bright, glorious sunlight.

She wanted to bite him.

“Bite him,”the thought echoed in her mind. “Mark him. Claim him. He’s yours for the taking, isn’t that why he gave me to you?”

With a little moan, she let the spirit make the choice. She didn’t bite him hard, just a light nip against the vein in his neck that thrummed against her lips. His heart beat pounded and her teeth closed down on him.

It was like she’d struck him with lightning.

He wrapped an arm around her waist, flipping them so her front was pressed against the cool stones and his hot body lined up perfectly with hers. The warm head of his cock slid through her folds, stroking and teasing, mimicking what she wanted him to do.

His hand coiled in her tangled hair, tugging her neck back so she was forced to arch, pressing herself harder against him.

“Is this what you want?” he growled in her ear. “You’re supposed to be healing, and this is what you beg for?”

“Yes,” she hissed. Varya ground her hips against him, trying to coax him to slip inside her.

Greed was not so kind. He used her hair as reins, holding her in place for his touch as his free hand slid between them. He touched her, his thick fingers sliding inside, stroking her inner walls in a tempo that wasn’t enough. Would never be enough.

His thumb slid over the puckered hole that no one else had ever touched. “This is mine,” he snarled, his cock pressing against her entrance, but never quite pushing all the way inside. “You are mine, all of you, every moan, every gasp, every whimper.”

Anger rose in her chest. Defiance against his words as she rolled her hips, tempting him, showing him who owned who. “Tell yourself whatever you need to hear,” she hissed. “We both know who belongs to who.”

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