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“Lyric,” he warned, his voice strained. His eyes flashed gold in the dim light of the cottage. “My Beast is still too close. I can’t—” He swallowed hard. “I want more than just kisses.”

Her heart raced, but not from fear. She recognized the look in his eyes—hunger, desire, and beneath it all, that ever-present restraint.

“I’m not afraid of you,” she said, her voice steady despite the heat flooding her body. “I never have been.”

He shook his head, his massive body trembling with the effort to control himself. “You should be. After what you saw?—”

“You protected two people who couldn’t protect themselves.” She stepped closer, erasing the distance he’d put between them. “Just like you once protected me.”

She reached for him again, her fingers tracing the scars that marked his face, his neck, the exposed skin of his arms. Each one told a story of pain, of survival. Her touch was deliberate, claiming every part of him that he believed made him monstrous.

“I want this,” she whispered, rising on her toes to press her lips to the corner of his mouth. “I want you.”

Something broke in Egon then—the last thread of his restraint snapping as he gathered her against him. His mouth found hers,hungry and demanding, his massive hands spanning her waist as he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. His claws emerged again as he tore impatiently at her dress, and he froze.

“Sorry,” he said gruffly. “I’ll get you a new one.”

Despite the apology, his gaze was hungry as he focused on the bare skin exposed by the torn dress. She smiled and kissed him again, her fingers tangling in his hair. She arched against him, heat pooling between her thighs as his touch grew more confident. The weight of his massive body pressing her into the soft mattress sent a thrill down her spine.

“Lyric,” he breathed her name like a prayer, his lips finding the pulse point at her throat, his tusks scraping lightly over her skin.

She gasped, her back arching as his hand slid beneath her torn dress to cup her breast, his thumb teasing her nipple into a hard peak. His touch was gentle despite the callouses and scars that marked his palms.

“Mine,” he growled against her collarbone, the vibration of his deep voice sending a fresh surge of arousal through her.

Her hands explored his broad chest, tracing the planes of hard muscle and the ridges of his scars. He was a warrior, fierce and protective, and yet he trembled beneath her touch, his breath catching when her fingertips grazed the sensitive skin of his nipple. She filed that knowledge away, determined to learn every part of him that gave pleasure instead of pain.

He claimed her mouth in another searing kiss, his tongue exploring her, claiming her as his own. She felt the hard length of him press against her thigh, hot and insistent. Her fingerstrailed down the defined ridges of his abdomen to where his massive erection strained against his pants.

His hips bucked against her touch and he growled low in his throat, his control slipping with each stroke of her fingers over the thick shaft. Impatiently, he shed his clothes, kicking free of the confining fabric and baring himself to her gaze.

Her breath caught as she took in the sight of him. His body was a work of art, chiseled from years of training, but it was the evidence of his desire for her that stole her breath. He was huge—long and thick, flushed a deep, dark green. She wrapped her fingers around as much of him as she could and he groaned, his head tipping back as she explored him.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, little bee,” he growled, but there was no threat in his voice, only desire.

His mouth found hers again, his tongue claiming her as his hands roamed over her body, tearing the rest of her dress away until she lay bare beneath him. The cool air of the room whispered over her skin, raising goosebumps that had nothing to do with the cold. She’d never felt so exposed, so vulnerable, and yet so safe at the same time.

He kissed his way down her body, his lips blazing a trail of fire over her skin. When he reached the juncture between her thighs, she gasped, her hips bucking involuntarily at the first stroke of his tongue against her swollen folds. He growled against her, the vibration sending shockwaves through her body. Her hands fisted in the sheets as he explored her, his tongue circling and teasing her clit before dipping lower to thrust inside her.

Her breath came in short, sharp gasps as he worshipped her with his mouth, his hands holding her hips steady as she writhedbeneath him. Pleasure built inside her, coiling tighter and tighter until it snapped and wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over her, leaving her trembling and panting.

He held her until she stopped trembling, but when she reached for him, he caught her wrist gently, stilling her explorations. “Wait.”

“What’s wrong?” she whispered.

“I… There’s something you need to understand about what I am.”

She placed a gentle palm on his cheek. “I’ve seen your Beast, Egon. I’m not afraid.”

“You should be. The Beast wants things. Primal things.”

“What if I want those things too?”

He shook his head.

“You don’t understand. What if I hurt you?”

“You won’t,” she said firmly. If there was one thing in this world she was absolutely sure of, it was that he would never hurt her.