Nancy hadn’t been exaggerating when she warned about the mating fever. It was relentless and all-consuming. It was the evening of the second day since they’d escaped their captors, and yet, they hadn’t moved an inch from their clearing.
And yes, they’d been having sex all day.
There had been pauses, of course with brief intervals to sleep, to eat, to breathe. But every mont in between had been spent locked in each other’s arms, fucking. There was sothing magnetic building between them, a connection that fed and strived on physical intimacy.
Violet could think of nothing else beyond her mate. Griffin practically consud her every thought, and the mating bond had her in a frenzy that she didn’t want to be saved from.
So it was no surprise that she was on top of him now, straddling him with wild abandon, riding him like her life depended on it. Her thighs burned with effort, but she didn’t stop. No, she couldn’t stop.
Violet bounced over his thick length with a maddening urgency, her back arching as pleasure clawed its way up her spine. He filled her completely, hitting those electric spots deep inside that had her gasping, and wling on top of him.
It was unfiltered, delirious and beautiful in its wildness.
Violet threw her head back, hair cascading down her spine, her moans tearing through the clearing as she moved with a reckless pace. There was nothing timid or restrained about this mont. She was riding her mate like she belonged to him, and she did.
Her climax built fast, and insistent like a wave gathering montum, and she leaned over him, collapsing forward onto Griffin’s chest, their bodies slick with sweat. Their fingers laced together tightly, grounding her as she rolled her hips and ground down harder, angling just right. She cried out, then kissed him, her moans caught between animalistic and aching, until pleasure finally cracked her open like a starburst in the night sky.
She shattered around him.
With a rough growl, Griffin grabbed her hips, slamd into her one, two more tis, and then stilled with a guttural sound as he spilled inside her, his entire body jerking beneath hers. His hands gripped her like he’d never let go.
The world slowed down at that mont, the only sound between them being their heavy mingled breathing. The fever still pulsed between them, but for now they were content, and wrapped in each other.
Griffin began to press gentle kisses across her face. Then he trailed down her jaw and over the curve of her neck, only to pause when his eyes landed on the mark there.
The mating rune.
The goddess had chosen to place Violet’s rune on her neck which was on the exact sa place as his. It shimred in his signature color, a deep, blood-rich red, and shaped like a bold, upright arrow flanked by two outward-facing branches.
His own rune was the mirror opposite and was etched in her shade of royal purple, shaped in a symtrical design of two opposing curves eting at the center, forming a heart with a single vertical line through it.
It was so beautiful it made his chest ache. Griffin couldn’t help it, he leaned down and kissed it.
Violet moaned instantly, her back arching off the forest floor in response. Her body jerked against his as her walls clenched tightly around him—he was still nestled deep inside of her.
Griffin groaned, the sudden tightness hitting him like a drug. He rembered that reaction. He’d felt the sa when she’d kissed his rune earlier. The mark was as sensitive as hell.
He dragged his lips slowly across the curve of the mark again intentionally, savoring her against him. And then, suddenly, he couldn’t wait any longer.
With a low, guttural sound, Griffin flipped her over, his hands gripping her waist as he pulled her back onto him and then he was thrusting hard, deep and reckless.
"Yes—yes—oh fuck!" Violet scread, her voice breaking as her body surrendered completely. She gasped, wled, cried out in intervals as the pleasure was everywhere, searing, and devouring. Her fingers clawed at the dirt beneath her, trying to hold on to anything as her mate pounded into her like a man possessed.
Griffin grabbed her hips tighter, lifting her nearly off the ground with every punishing thrust. His grip was bruising, desperate, and his pace relentless. Her breath was broken sobs of pleasure, the sounds coming from her lips sinful, uncontrollable screams.
He slamd into her harder and faster again and again until the pain blurred into ecstasy. Until every breath she drew was ragged with need. Until she couldn’t tell where she ended and he began.
And Violet didn’t care.
She didn’t care if he shattered her completely. If he broke her in half right there, in that clearing. The brutality, the overwhelming ache of it only made the pleasure rise higher, deeper and sharper. Every thrust was fire in her blood and veins, and she never wanted it to stop.
Then Griffin roared. "I’m coming, Violet!"
She didn’t need the warning. Instead, she wriggled her waist against him, eting his thrusts, encouraging him with everything she had left. Her body begged and demanded for it.
With a final brutal thrust, Griffin slamd into her so deep she cried out again, feeling him hit the end of her, and shaking her to her core. And then, there was thick, pulsing heat as he spilled inside her, his groan low and ragged.
Griffin collapsed on top of her, pinning her into the earth with the full weight of his body. His chest heaved against her back, sweat slicking their skin.
But Violet didn’t care about the dirt, nor the soreness blooming between her thighs. All she could say with her hoarse voice was, "Fuck. That was amazing"
How in the world did they just do that?
But Griffin responded, "What would be amazing is not getting you pregnant with that kind of performance."
Violet should have been scared, but a smile crossed her lips instead. She wouldn’t mind getting pregnant for her amazing mate.
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