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I bend again and put my mouth over the center of his chest, just above the heavy beat I can feel through him. Onyx’s body gives one deep, involuntary shudder beneath me. That does more for my confidence than any reassurance could. I kiss him again, letting my tongue touch the raised line crossing under his sternum.
The sound he makes is low enough to vibrate through my knees.
I freeze for half a second, not from fear, but pure stunned satisfaction. “Oh,” I breathe against him. “You liked that.”
Yes. Too much.
No hesitation, just truth offered through the bond like he can’t imagine why anyone would hide pleasure once it’s named. The honesty strips something open in me. It makes me brave in a way I don’t know how to be alone.
His hand slides from my hip to my lower back, holding me where I’ve chosen to be. The weight of it grounds me. I move slowly because there’s still newness everywhere, still a trembling awareness that I’m touching parts of him no one has touched like this before.
It makes me ache. Not just with want—though that’s there, steady and building. It also makes me ache with tenderness. Onyx has lived too long with fear as the only language people gave to his true shape. Teeth and warning and campfire whispers.
Don’t follow the light. Don’t answer your name. Don’t look too closely at the thing with antlers in the dark.
I grew up with those stories in the air like weather, and now I have his heartbeat under my mouth.
The relief that moves through him is quiet but real.
I move lower, following the path of his markings over the hard plane of him. It’s strange how quickly my hesitation changes shape when he responds. I’m still nervous, of course I am. I’m straddling a creature with claws longer than my fingers and antlers that could probably destroy my truck if he got irritated enough. But the nerves don’t feel like stop.
“You really like bein’ touched here,” I murmur, dragging my mouth along another line.
By you. Only you.
Possessive, tender, devastating bastard.
I breathe out slowly, then press my cheek to his chest because if I look at him too fast, I’m going to say something that changes the air. Maybe the air has already changed. Maybe it’s been changing since the first bundle on my porch, since the first dream, since the first time I saw his lantern and felt fear reach for me with one hand while recognition reached with the other.
“I never thought I’d want this. Not this exact situation, obviously, because nobody plans for a forest guardian Death-deer, but I mean…” I huff, frustrated with myself, then lift my head to meet his eyes. “I mean you. Your body. Touchin’ you. Makin’ you feel it.”
Onyx’s focus sharpens so completely that the den feels like it holds its breath.
“I like knowin’ I can do that to you. I like that you get all ancient and terrifyin’ and then fall apart because I put my mouth on you.”
His hand tightens at my back.
I feel the full force of what that does to him through the bond, and it almost knocks the breath out of me. It isn’t only lust; lust would be easier. This is need braided with reverence, control straining under the shock of being wanted openly. I can feel him trying to stay still for me, trying not to overwhelm me, trying to give me this moment where I get to be the brave one.
That realization makes me softer, not less bold.
I run my tongue over the markings close to his heart, and this time, the reaction comes through both body and bond. His back arches slightly beneath me, his enormous frame shifting the nest, and the low sound he makes has no human shape. It runs down my spine like thunder. I follow it, kissing along the markings, bolder now, letting my teeth graze lightly over one raised ridge because I want to know what happens.
What happens is that Onyx nearly loses his mind.
His hand flies from my back to the furs, claws sinking deep. The whole den fills with the scent of him, sharp and wild and pleased, and the bond flashes with such stunned pleasure that I gasp against his skin.
Lucas. My name comes through him like a warning and a plea.
I lift my head, breathing hard, mouth tingling. “Too much?”
His eyes burn pale and helpless. Not enough. That is the danger.
The answer sends a pulse of heat through me so strong I have to sit back. We stare at each other in the dim morning, both of us caught on the edge of something that’s been waiting since I woke on top of him and decided curiosity was safer than admitting I wanted him again.
My body knows what it wants, and for once, my mind doesn’t lag too far behind.
I run my hands slowly down his chest, watching him watch me, and the bond hums with every inch. “Then I guess we should be careful,” I say, my twang coming out a little stronger because my voice has dropped too low for city polish.
