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“You know what, Mate,” he said, voice thick with hunger. “Now hold on tight while I take what’s mine.”

Then he buried his face between my legs.

I cried out.

Loud, raw, unfiltered.

Because holy fuck.

Kian wasn’t gentle.

He didn’t tease or ease me into it.

He devoured me.

His tongue flicked over my clit, then back down to my core, licking and sucking with single-minded focus like he was starving, and I was the only thing that could ever satisfy him.

And maybe I was.

He growled against my sex, the vibration making my thighs tremble.

He didn’t just eat me out, he stamped his claim on every inch of me.

My body.

My pleasure.

Mine.

I dug my fingers into his hair, holding on, hips jerking in time with his mouth.

I’d had sex before, some good, some passable, but never like this.

Never with a man who wanted to consume me.

Never with someone who made me feel like his entire existence depended on making me fall apart.

I heard it, the low, slick sound of him stroking himself, and it sent another wave of heat pulsing through me.

God, I wanted to watch.

I wanted to taste.

I wanted to drop to my knees and return every ounce of that hunger tenfold.

But right now?

I could barely breathe.

“Kian!” I moaned, my voice high, ragged.

I didn’t care how loud I was.

Didn’t care if the whole forest heard.

Let them.

Let them know.