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S he’s soft beneath me.

Warm.

Wet.

Willing.

And mine.

The air between us crackles—hotter than fire, thicker than smoke.

I press my lips to her skin like I’ve been dying of thirst, hungry and empty for centuries, and only she can satisfy the ache.

And maybe that’s the truth.

Maybe I have been waiting lifetimes to taste her. To have her.

And now she’s here, moaning beneath my mouth as I worship every inch of her with lips and tongue and hands that shake from the effort of not losing control.

My Dragon is pacing in the back of my mind, molten and wild.

Watching.

Growling.

Wanting.

He sees her just as I do—glowing, perfect, threaded with power she doesn’t even know she has.

He whispers to me to take. To mark. To claim.

But I don’t.

Not yet.

Not without her knowing what it means.

Still, I can’t stop the way I devour her.

She’s honey and fire and heaven on my tongue.

Her thighs tremble around my shoulders, hands fisting in my hair as I press my lips down her ripe flesh.

“Zeke!”

“Shhh. I got you, Petals. Got what you need. First, I’m gonna taste you.”

I slide down, pressing my tongue into her belly button before wedging my shoulders between her creamy, thick thighs.

She smells so fucking delicious.

Like sweet honey, sex, and need.

She smells like mine.

I spread her glistening folds and press my lips to hers, pushing my tongue deeper inside her needy pussy.

Fucking. Perfection.

This woman is going to kill me.

I do it again, slower this time, hungrier for her.

She’s so wet for me.

Her ready submission is my fucking undoing, and I go at her like a wild man.

I can’t help myself. Eating her out is all I want to do. Making her come on my tongue is my top fucking priority. And she’s close. I fucking know it.

Her cries curl down my spine like lightning and I don’t stop until she’s arching, breaking, coming undone on my mouth like a prayer answered.

And it truly is the answer to one of my prayers.

My name on her lips is a growl, a gasp, a benediction.

And still— it’s not enough.

I want more from her. So much more.

My cock aches to be inside her, and I know if I don’t move now, I’ll come on the sheets like a green ass virgin.

I move fast. I rise above her, watching her flushed face, the sheen of sweat on her skin, the dazed hunger in her eyes.

“I need to feel you,” I rasp.

She nods, reaching for me, guiding me in with hands that shake but never falter.

I don’t even think about slowing down.

And when I sink into her— slow, deep, complete —I see stars.

Casey’s amber eyes go wide and she gasps in response to my invasion.

She’s tight. So fucking tight. But she’s wet from coming on my tongue, so I slide into her with little resistance.

I groan.

She feels so good.

And my Dragon roars.

Better than good, she is perfect. Made for me.

Her walls flutter around me, wet and welcoming, and I have to bite down on my own wrist to keep from saying the words my soul is already screaming.

Es meus. Mine. Mate.

Because I can’t. Not yet. Not until she knows.

I’m not in the right headspace for confessions. Instead, I move.

Long, slow strokes that make her whimper and writhe beneath me.

But this is so much more than sex.

Every thrust is a vow.

Every kiss is a brand.

I worship her with my body because it’s the only language I am capable of right now, and Casey, well, she answers with her own sweetness—her throaty cries, trembling thighs, and whispered yeses.

This woman is magic.

She must be.

She strips me bare without even trying.

And when she shatters again— wrapped around me, clutching me like I’m the only solid thing in her world —I follow her straight into oblivion.

Into the fire.

Into us.

By the time I can breathe again, I know one thing for sure. I didn’t have to bite her to claim her.

Casey is mine.

It’s just a matter of time before she understands it, too.