Page 8 of Snared (The Legion: Savage Lands Sector #8)

“What—” I began, but Lor silenced me with a look of such possessive heat that the question died in my throat.

“The jungle knows what you need,” he said, his voice a dark promise. “What we need.”

The vines moved with purpose, slithering beneath me, lifting me slightly off the moss bed. They were warm, almost hot, and they seemed to vibrate with a life of their own. They curled around my wrists, gentle but insistent, drawing my arms above my head.

I should have been frightened. Should have protested. Instead, I surrendered, letting them take my weight, support me, position me for Lor’s pleasure—and mine.

He growled his approval, the sound sending a fresh wave of heat pooling between my thighs. “Perfect,” he rasped, his gaze raking over my exposed body. “My kassari. Mine to taste. Mine to claim.”

His tail, which had been swaying behind him like a metronome of desire, now curled forward with deliberate intent. The tip of it—softer than I expected, velvety and warm—traced patterns on my stomach, circling my navel before sliding higher.

I gasped as it reached my breast, teasing around the outer curve before zeroing in on my nipple with devastating precision. The tip flicked, circled, pressed—an entirely different sensation from his tongue or fingers, but no less maddening.

“Lor,” I moaned, arching into the contact. “Please.”

“Patience,” he murmured, his mouth now hovering just above the apex of my thighs. “I’ve waited lifetimes to taste you here.”

The first stroke of his tongue against my core nearly undid me. Those ridges—god, those ridges—caught against my sensitive flesh, creating friction that sent electricity racing up my spine. He growled against me, the vibration adding yet another layer to the overwhelming sensations.

My thighs trembled, trying to close around his head, but the vines had wrapped around my ankles too, holding me open and vulnerable to his relentless assault.

His tongue delved deeper, those rough ridges dragging against places inside me that I didn’t even know could feel so much.

His hands gripped my hips, angling me to give him better access, while his tail continued its maddening attention to my nipple, flicking and rolling in counterpoint to the rhythm of his tongue.

“You taste like mine,” he growled against me, the words vibrating through my core. “Like fate. Like home.”

The reverence in his voice, the worship in his touch—it was too much. I was climbing higher, faster than I thought possible, every nerve ending alive with sensation.

And then I felt it—a new pressure, gentle but insistent, against my back entrance. A vine, slick with some kind of natural lubricant, circling and teasing.

My eyes flew open in surprise, locking with Lor’s golden gaze. He paused, watching me, waiting for permission.

“Yes,” I gasped, not even sure what I was agreeing to anymore. Just knowing I wanted everything he could give me. Everything this dream, this bond, this fate had to offer.

The vine pressed forward, breaching me slowly, carefully, while Lor’s tongue resumed its devastating attention to my core. The dual penetration sent waves of pleasure crashing through me, building and building until I was certain I would shatter from the intensity.

The vine moved deeper, stretching me in the most delicious way, while a second one joined it, both of them working in tandem with Lor’s mouth to drive me to the edge of madness.

His tail tightened around my nipple, tugging just shy of pain, and that was all it took. My release crashed over me like a tidal wave, wrenching a cry from my throat that echoed through the dream jungle.

But Lor wasn’t finished. As the aftershocks still rippled through me, he rose up, his massive body covering mine, the evidence of his own need pressing hot and hard against my thigh.

“Mine,” he growled, his voice deeper than I’d ever heard it. “Say it.”

“Yours,” I gasped, reaching for him despite the vines still holding my wrists. “I’m yours, Lor.”

With a sound that was more animal than man, he claimed my mouth again, his tongue—that incredible, textured tongue—tangling with mine as he aligned our bodies. The vines shifted, adjusting my position, lifting my hips to the perfect angle for him.

When he entered me, it was like coming home. Like finding a piece of myself I hadn’t known was missing. He filled me completely, stretching me to the point of exquisite discomfort before my body yielded, accepting him, welcoming him.

The vines in my back channel continued their gentle thrusting, creating a fullness that bordered on overwhelming. Lor’s tail had moved to wrap around my waist, holding me steady as he began to move within me, each thrust deliberate and deep.

“Feel me,” he commanded, his forehead pressed to mine, our breath mingling. “Feel what you do to me, kassari.”

And I did—not just physically, but deeper, as if the Unity dream had opened a channel between us. I felt his pleasure as if it were my own, felt the tight heat of my body around him, felt the satisfaction of claiming and being claimed.

Our rhythm built, the vines moving in perfect counterpoint to Lor’s thrusts, his tail tightening around my waist as his control began to fray. Sweat slicked our bodies, the scent of our coupling filling the air—musky, primal, perfect.

When the second climax took me, it was even more powerful than the first. I cried out his name, my body clenching around him, around the vines, every muscle drawn tight as pleasure crashed through me in endless waves.

Lor followed me over the edge with a roar that shook the dream jungle, his body shuddering against mine as he poured himself into me, claiming me in the most primal way possible.

In the aftermath, as we lay tangled together, the vines retreated, leaving only the two of us wrapped in each other’s arms. Lor’s tail remained curled possessively around my waist, his face buried in my neck.

“Mine,” he murmured against my skin, the word soft but unshakeable. “Always mine.”

“Always yours,” I whispered back, the truth of it settling into my bones like it had always been there, waiting to be acknowledged.

The dream began to fade around us, reality tugging at the edges of our shared consciousness. But the connection remained, stronger than before, a bridge between our souls that not even waking could sever.

His last words followed me back to consciousness, a promise and a vow.

“I will find you in every dream, kassari. And one day, in every waking moment too.”

I woke with a moan, flushed and soaked through. Mortified.

Even more so when I realized he’d been curled a few feet away, tense, his tail twitching in his sleep like he knew.

Lor’s eyes were closed, but his body was far from relaxed.

He’d positioned himself at the entrance to our shelter, back against the trunk, one leg bent at the knee.

His tail—that talented, devious tail from my dream—flicked against the moss floor, the tip curling and uncurling in a rhythm that matched the pulsing ache between my thighs.

I pressed my legs together, trying to silence the evidence of what had happened in our shared dream. My skin felt too tight, too hot, too everything. I needed water. Air. Distance.

The vines around my sleeping platform shifted, responding to my distress. Phil—my clingy vine friend—curled around my wrist in what felt like concern.

“I’m fine,” I whispered, patting Phil absently. “Just...need a minute.”

The truth was, I needed more than a minute. I needed to wash away the sweat and the…other evidence of what had happened in the dream. I needed to feel human again, to remember who I was beyond this primal connection that seemed determined to consume me.

I sat up slowly, careful not to disturb Lor. His ear twitched slightly, but his breathing remained deep and even. Was he truly asleep? Or just pretending to give me privacy in the aftermath of what we’d shared?

The thought that he might have experienced it all—every touch, every sensation, every shameless sound I’d made—sent fresh heat flooding my face.

“Get it together, Miri,” I muttered to myself, running a hand through my tangled hair. “It was just a dream.”

Except it wasn’t. Not really. It was more—a connection, a bond, something that transcended ordinary human experience. The evidence was all over me, in the lingering sensitivity of my skin, the phantom pressure of vines that weren’t physically there, the taste of him still on my tongue.

I needed to wash. Now.

“Phil,” I whispered, turning my attention to the vine still wrapped around my wrist. “I need water. Somewhere I can clean up. Is there...I don’t know...a safe pond or something nearby?”

The vine tightened briefly, then tugged gently, urging me toward the edge of the platform. I hesitated, glancing at Lor. Still “asleep,” though I swore I saw the corner of his mouth twitch.

Fine. If he was going to pretend, so would I.

I followed Phil’s guidance, carefully easing past Lor’s outstretched leg. His tail stilled as I approached, then deliberately moved aside to clear my path. Definitely awake, then. But thankfully playing along with my need for space.

“I’ll be back,” I whispered, not meeting his eyes. “Just need to...freshen up.”

A low rumble of acknowledgment was his only response. That, and the slight flare of his nostrils as he caught my scent—my very obvious, very aroused scent. Great.

I scrambled down from our perch with as much dignity as I could muster, which wasn’t much. Phil and two smaller vines helped, providing handholds and support as I descended to the jungle floor. The moss beneath my bare feet was cool and damp, a small relief against my overheated skin.

“Okay, Phil,” I said once I was safely on the ground. “Where’s this water?”

Phil tugged me forward, joined by the other vines that had formed a sort of living escort around me. They moved with purpose, guiding me through the dense foliage with surprising gentleness.