Malvor didn't rush. He let her settle against him, let her breathe, let the bond between them simmer low and hot, crackling under her skin.
She thought it was over. Thought she'd been unraveled enough for one day.
She had no idea.
He shifted, rolling her onto her back again, looming over her like some lazy, amused predator. Not pinning. Not forcing.
Just there. Unmovable. Inevitable.
She blinked up at him, still dazed, the green shoots of new emotion trembling just beneath the surface.
Malvor smiled slowly.
"You're not done, darling," he murmured, trailing a finger down her sternum. "Not even close."
The bond flared at his touch—sharp, electric, sparking off her nerves like live wire.
She whimpered—tiny, unwilling. Perfect.
He leaned down, brushing his lips against her ear. "This time," he whispered, "you don't get to finish until I say so."
She stiffened slightly—instinct, training, pride—and he felt it all through the bond.
Delicious.
He kissed the corner of her mouth, slow and taunting, while his hand slipped lower. Over her ribs. Her stomach. The delicate skin of her inner thigh.
No rush. No mercy.
She squirmed beneath him, breath catching, and he grinned against her skin.
"Feel it," he ordered softly. "All of it. Don't hide."
He let his fingers brush between her thighs—feather-light. A ghost of pressure. A promise.
Her hips bucked helplessly, chasing more, but he withdrew immediately, chuckling low in his throat.
"Uh-uh," he murmured. "Not yet."
She groaned—a broken, desperate sound—and the bond sang. Real. Raw. Hers.
Malvor sat back on his heels, dragging her hips into his lap with casual dominance. He stroked her thighs, teasing, until she was trembling, thighs quivering, lips parted in breathless little gasps she couldn't even try to fake.
Every time she got close—Every time her body tensed, ready to fall over that beautiful, shattering edge—
He pulled away.
Light touches. Soft kisses. A whispered "good girl" against her thigh.
Never enough. Never letting her fall.
The bond snapped tauter with every denial—pressure building hotter, higher, sharper. Annie was panting now, helpless, nails digging into the sheets like they could anchor her.
Malvor laughed softly. Wicked. Adoring.
"You're so close," he whispered. "So pretty when you break."
She tried to glare at him. It was pathetic. Adorable.
He kissed her knee. Her hipbone. The sensitive crease where her thigh met her torso.
Soft. Soft. Soft.
Until it wasn't.
Suddenly, without warning, he sucked hard at the inside of her thigh, biting down just enough to make her jolt.
Pleasure slammed through the bond—sharp, bright, almost painful.
She sobbed his name—high, desperate—thrashing under him.
And he pulled back. Again.
Smirking like the devil himself.
"No," he said sweetly. "Not yet."
Tears blurred her eyes. Real tears this time.
Not from pain. Not from fear.
From sheer, blistering need.
And gods—he loved her for it.
He bent low, dragging his mouth up her inner thigh with slow, wet kisses.
"You want to come so badly," he whispered against her skin. "You feel like you're going to break."
He kissed higher. Higher.
"You can't hold it anymore, can you?"
She shook her head, a tiny, broken motion. A single tear slipped down her temple.
Malvor groaned, the sound torn from deep in his chest. He kissed the tear away—soft, reverent.
"One more time," he ordered, voice wrecked. "Hold it. For me."
She whimpered, trembling all over, but nodded. Desperate.
He finally—finally—slid two fingers deep inside her, curling just right, grinding his palm against her clit with slow, deliberate cruelty.
She arched off the bed with a hoarse, raw scream—
And he felt it. Every shattered nerve. Every pulse of need. Every desperate, clinging plea.
He pushed her higher. Harder. Faster.
Until she was sobbing, begging, cursing—
And still he didn't let her fall.
The bond roared between them—white-hot, all-consuming.
Malvor kissed her throat, her jaw, her mouth, swallowing every broken sound she made.
"Now," he growled. "Come for me, Annie."
And she did. Violently. Utterly.
Pleasure tore through her body, through their bond, through him—so blinding and brutal it stole the breath from his lungs.
He held her through it, anchored her, rocked her through every aftershock, whispering nonsense words against her skin.
Praise. Worship. Devotion.
When it finally ended, she lay limp and wrecked in his arms, utterly undone.
And he smiled down at her—wild, greedy, proud.
She had bloomed for him. Beautiful and wild and his.
And gods help anyone who tried to put a leash on her again.
The moment she shattered, something inside Malvor shattered too.
He felt her climax tear through their bond — not just the heat of it, not just the pleasure — but the raw, feral surrender. The trust. The need. The messy, wild, beautiful truth of her.
It ripped every ounce of patience from his bones.
He growled low in his throat, the sound almost inhuman, and flipped them without warning—Dragging her onto his lap, dragging her into him, clutching her like he might never get enough.
She gasped—still dazed, still wrecked—but the bond flared bright and eager.
More. It screamed between them. More. Now.
Malvor didn't hesitate. Didn't tease. Didn't plan.
He slid into her in one hard, desperate thrust—no barriers, no patience left—and they both screamed.
Pleasure detonated through the bond like an explosion, wrecking every thought, every boundary.
He felt her walls clench around him—tight, wet, perfect—and she felt his entire body shudder with the force of how good she felt.
It looped back and forth—Her pleasure feeding his. His pleasure crashing back into her.
Faster. Hotter. Harder.
Malvor buried his face against her throat, panting raggedly, driving into her with brutal, relentless thrusts.
Not cruel. Not careless.
Desperate.
Like he needed her to breathe. Like he needed her to survive.
Annie clung to him—arms around his neck, legs wrapped around his hips—anchored and drowning all at once.
Their bond burned between them—golden, blinding, holy.
He felt every cry torn from her throat. She felt every groan ripped from his chest.
There was no distance anymore. No walls. No pretending.
Only them.