Page 39 of Tharn’s Hunt (Barbarians of the Dust #2)

JACQUI

I barely register the journey to Tharn’s alcove.

His arms are warm and strong around me, his chest a solid wall of muscle against my side.

Each step he takes sends a faint jolt through me, and I’m acutely aware of the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the heat of his body, the possessive way his claws curl just enough to hold me securely but not hurt me.

The world feels distant, muffled. All I can hear is my own heartbeat pounding in my ears and the echo of his voice in my mind.

Mine .

It wasn’t just the word itself—it was the way he said it. Like a vow. Like a promise.

And now here we are. Alone.

He steps into the alcove, the dim light casting shadows across his sharp features.

He lowers me gently onto the fur-covered platform, his hands lingering on my waist for a moment before pulling back.

I sit up, my pulse racing as he steps back, those intense eyes scanning me like he’s committing every inch of me to memory.

"Tharn," I whisper, but it comes out shaky.

He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to.

The intensity in his gaze says everything.

He’s not just looking at me. He’s devouring me, his gaze sliding over my body like he’s stripping me bare with his eyes alone.

It should feel intimidating. Overwhelming.

Instead, it’s thrilling.

Because for the first time in days, I don’t feel lost or unsure. I feel wanted. Needed .

And then he moves.

Tharn crouches in front of me, his massive frame making the small alcove feel impossibly intimate. Slowly, so slowly, he reaches out, his clawed hands skimming over the fabric of my top—which is really just a bandeau cut from my skirt—before curling around the hem.

There’s no hesitation in his movements, no uncertainty. He pulls the top over my head in one swift motion, leaving me in just my bra.

His breath hitches, his eyes locked on me like I’m the only thing in the universe.

"Tharn," I murmur again, watching as he leans in, his nose brushing against the curve of my neck as he inhales deeply, a low growl rumbling from his chest.

The sound sends a shiver down my spine, heat pooling low in my belly.

His hands move to my waist, his claws grazing my skin as he explores my body with a reverence that leaves me breathless. Every touch feels like he’s savoring the moment, committing it to memory.

And then his mouth is on me.

His lips brush against my collarbone, soft and warm, before trailing lower.

He pauses at the edge of my bra, tilting his head as if confused by the straps.

He makes a low, impatient sound, then hooks his claws under the bottom band and just shoves the entire thing upward, pulling it over my head to be discarded along with my top.

The moment I’m bare before him, Tharn freezes. His entire body goes rigid, a statue of bronze muscle and stunned stillness.

"You’ve never seen breasts before, have you," I whisper, my cheeks flushing under his intense, unblinking stare.

A low, guttural sound rumbles in his chest, and he leans closer.

His clawed hand comes up, hovering over my breast for a long, silent moment. Then, his fingers make contact. His broad palm cups the weight of me, his thumb brushing over the soft swell of skin.

My breath hitches, my nipple hardening instantly into a tight, aching point against his palm.

Tharn’s reaction is immediate. A tremor runs through his hand. His gaze snaps from my breast to my face, his pupils flaring wide, swallowing the amber. The air in the alcove shifts, the quiet curiosity in his posture instantly consumed by a raw, dawning hunger. He felt that. He saw my body respond.

And then his mouth is on me. His mouth closes on my nipple. He tastes me. A deep, guttural rumble vibrates from his chest, and his other hand slams down on the furs beside my hip, his claws extending and digging in as if to anchor himself.

The sensation is electric, a bolt of pleasure that shoots straight to my core. My hands tangle in his hair, my breath hitching as his mouth suckles tentatively at first, then grows stronger as my body arches into his.

He learns fast. And he doesn't stop there.

He moves lower, his lips trailing down my stomach, his claws hooking into the waistband of my skirt and panties, pulling them off with ease.

I’m bare beneath him now, fully exposed, but instead of feeling vulnerable, I feel... powerful.

Because the way he’s looking at me—like I’m something sacred, something he can’t resist—makes me feel like I could set the world on fire.

His hands clamp around my thighs, forcing them wider , fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises. Good . I want the marks. I want to feel him tomorrow, even after this is over.

His breath is hot between my legs, but he doesn’t move. Not yet. Just watches me, eyes black with hunger, while I squirm. Begging without words .

His tongue drags over me in one long, filthy stroke . Mouth searing against my skin, licking into me like he’s starving.

I cry out, back arching, fingers clawing at the furs. “ Fuck ?—!"

A deep, satisfied growl vibrates against me, his grip tightening, keeping me pinned. He doesn’t let me move. Doesn’t let me catch my breath. Just devours . Rough licks, sharp nips of his fangs, that relentless fucking tongue circling, thrusting, deep into me .

Every sound I make only drives him harder.

"Tharn—!" My voice cracks, thighs shaking. He groans against me, the sound dark, possessive , and then his mouth seals over me, sucking hard, tongue working mercilessly.

I come so fast it’s like falling. Violent, gasping, my whole body seizing. He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t slow. Just licks me through it, wrings out every last shudder, until I’m sobbing, wrung out, destroyed .

Only then does he pull back, lips wet, gaze feral. A single, possessive thought brands my mind.

" Again ."

THARN

Her taste is ruinous .

The first time my tongue drags over her, it’s like the ground has dropped out from under me.

Sweet.

Salt.

Heat.

Mine .

I will never get enough of this .

I groan against her, sheathing my claws as they sink deeper into the soft flesh of her thighs.

She whimpers, her hips jerking, but I hold her down.

“ Tharn —!”

Her voice cracks, and something dark and hungry uncoils in my chest.

I don’t answer.

I devour .

My tongue presses deep, licking into her like I’m trying to memorize every inch, every shudder, every pulse of her body around me.

I don’t know what I’m doing .

But her gasps, her moans—they teach me.

When I flick my tongue here, her thighs tighten. When I suck there, her back bows off the furs.

I learn fast . This is more than just sharing water. This…this is sharing life .

And Jah-kee is drowning in it. Her back arches, her fingers twist in the furs, her breath comes in broken, gasping cries.

I growl low, the sound thrumming through her, and she shakes, her thighs trembling against my face.

Dust .

I could stay here forever.

Buried between her legs, lost in the taste of her, the way her body clenches for me, the way she shatters when I curl my tongue?—

But it’s not enough .

I need more .

I need everything .

I pull back just enough to look at her. Her heaving chest, her parted lips, her eyes wild with pleasure.

She is slick on my mouth, on my chin. I drag my tongue slowly over my own lips, tasting her again. Sweet. Salt. Mine .

Her breath hitches at the sight, a fresh wave of heat washing over her skin.

Beautiful .

Her skin is flushed, her scent thick in the air, and when my claws trail up her thighs, she jerks?—

“W-Wait?—”

I don’t.

I drag my tongue over her again, slow , savoring the way her whole body tightens , the way her chest stutters…

Then I suck .

Hard.

She screams, the sound piercing the stone walls.

Her hands fly to my head, fingers fisting in the copper-red strands at my scalp, her back bowing off the furs as something rips through her.

I don’t stop.

I can’t.

I keep my mouth on her, drinking in every pulse, every shudder, until she’s sobbing, her fingers tugging weakly at me.

“Please—I can’t?—!”

But she can .

And I won’t let her go.

I press my forehead against her thigh, my breath ragged, my new member aching so badly I can barely think .

When her fingers brush my jaw, I freeze.

Her touch is soft, her eyes hazy but locked on mine.

Hers .

The realization burns through me.

I shift my weight, moving over her with an aching slowness that is its own kind of violence. My body settles over hers as my member throbs against her stomach, thick and slick and dripping .

A hot, viscous fluid beads at the tip, spilling over in a slow, shameless leak. A waste of water? Something my body has never done before.

But no, not a waste. Somehow, instinctively, I know it’s for her.

I shudder, my hips jerking involuntarily, smearing the slickness between us.

Her breath hitches as she feels it. The heat, the wetness, the way my member pulses against her.

Then her gaze drops.

I watch her eyes widen, her lips parting as she takes in the changes. The ridges along the underside, raised and sensitive. And the base?—

Ain.

A swollen, curved protrusion rises there, like a second, smaller shaft, but flatter, curved like a dust serpent's scale with ridges of its own. It curves toward my shaft like a strange extension.

What the dust is that?

I don’t know. But my body does.

It’s for her, too.

Jah-kee inhales deeply, her legs spreading wider, welcoming me. My hips stutter. I’ve seen this before. In her dreams. I know what she wants. I know what she needs me to do.

I drag the thick head of my shaft through her slick, teasing , watching her face. Her whole body jerks, a single, sharp tremor that runs from her shoulders to her toes.

“Tharn.”

Her voice is broken .

I growl, pressing forward slowly, so drakking slowly, just to feel every inch of her stretch around me. My mind screams a warning, and I remember the vision of my strength tearing her apart. She is not prey. Do not break her.

But Jah-kee meets my gaze, her water-blue eyes hazy with a trust that shatters my fear. She is not afraid. She wants this. She wants me.

Tight.

Hot.

Perfect .

The world, the entirety of Xiraxis, centers on this moment.

Jah-kee’s nails dig into my shoulders, her breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps.

“H-Harder?—”

A snarl rips from my chest, and I obey .

I bury myself to the hilt in one brutal thrust, filling her so completely I see stars.

Dust.

Ain.

What is this ?

Her body is scalding around me, clenching, pulsing.

And it does not break. It holds me. It welcomes the very savagery I feared would destroy it.

The beast inside me does not wish to consume her; it wishes to be consumed by her.

Sheathing myself inside her is not an act of destruction. It is an act of completion.

I’ve never felt anything like it.

Never dreamed anything could feel this good.

I freeze, shuddering, my claws sinking into the furs as pleasure blows through me like a dust storm.

Is this…

Is this what mating is?

Then Jah-kee moans, her hips jerking, her walls fluttering around me—and I lose myself.

I pound into her, deep, rough, my hips snapping against hers with every ravenous thrust.

She cries out, her body arching. “Yes?—!”

Every slam of my hips drives me deeper, her heat milking me, her body begging for more.

She’s so soft.

So wet.

So tight.

I look down between us, drawn by a sight so beautiful. Female. My female. Stretched around me.

The swollen curve of shaft sprouting from the base of my member grinds against her soft center, perfectly molding to her slick folds.

She wails.

Her back bows off the furs, her thighs clamping around my hips as the dual sensation destroys her.

I growl, possessive, my thrusts turning purposeful, savage, angling my hips to drag that swollen curve against her with every snap of my body.

She sobs.

“T-Tharn— fuck ?—!”

Her voice cracks, her fingers clawing at my shoulders as pleasure wrecks her.

And I can feel it.

I don’t slow.

I can’t.

Every slam of my hips drives my rod deeper, my ridges rubbing her folds in tight, maddening thrusts just like my body was made to do.

Made for her.

Her breath comes in shallow, broken gasps, her eyes rolling back as something unseen builds within her. Something momentous.

“I’m—I’m gonna?—!”

She shatters, screaming my name as her body clenches around me, squeezing my shaft like she never wants me to leave.

I roar.

Something shoots up through me, an unstoppable tide, culminating at the tip of my shaft?—

And then?—

I waste water.

A flood of it. Hot, thick, relentless, spilling into her in pulsing waves.

A betrayal .

Of the dust. Of my blood.

Survival is water. Wasting it is death.

But this…this is not waste.

This is purpose.

My body knows. Some gnawing instinct screams that this water belongs inside her. That I must fill her, brand her, drown her in every drop.

My hips stutter, driving deeper, spilling into her until my vision whites out, until I’m empty, until my body is shaking with the force of it.

Even so, I need more.

I need to do it again.

“ Mine .”

“ Mine .”

“ MINE .”

Jah-kee’s eyes fly open, wide, stunned.

“ Yours .” Her voice meets mine in the mindspace, clear as the sky across the dust.

And I know?—

I will never let her go .