House of Sky and Breath (Crescent City #2) by Sarah J. Maas

“You won’t.” She smiled softly—lovingly. “I trust you.”

Her fingers brushed over his bare chest, and he shivered again. She closed the distance between them, mouth grazing over his pec—his heart. Hunt’s lightning flared, casting the garden in silver. Bryce lifted her head.

“Kiss me,” she breathed.

Hunt’s eyes were pure lightning. His body was pure lightning as Bryce opened her mouth to him and his tongue swept in, tasting of rain and ether.

His power flowed over her, around her, a million sensual caresses, and she arched into it, gave herself over to it. He palmed her breast, power zapping at her nipple, and she gasped. He drove his tongue deeper, like he’d lap up the sound.

She knew Hunt needed a way to work off his magic, a way to reassure him that she was safe and his. My beautiful, strong mate, he’d growled as he looked at her naked body.

His other hand kneaded her ass, pulling her against him, pinning his cock between their bodies. He groaned at the touch of her stomach against him, and she writhed—just enough to drive him wild.

Lightning danced down her skin, along her hair, and she basked in it. Took it into herself, let herself become it, become him, and let him become her, until they were two souls twining together at the bottom of the sea.

Bryce had the vague sense of falling through air, through time and space, and then she found herself laid gently, reverently, on the mossy ground. Like even in his need, his fury, he wanted her safe and well. Feeling only pleasure.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, arching into him as she nipped at his lip, sucked on his tongue. More. She needed more. He clamped his teeth on the side of her throat, sucking hard, and she arched again, right as he settled between her legs.

The brush of his velvety cock against her bare sex had her shaking. Not with fear, but at his closeness, that nothing now lay between them and would never lie between them again.

He slickened himself with her wetness, his wings twitching. Lightning spiderwebbed on the moss around them, then up the trees overhead.

“Hunt,” Bryce gasped. They could explore and play later. Right now, when death had been hovering so close, right now she needed him with her, in her. Needed his strength and power and gentleness, needed that smile and humor and love—

Bryce wrapped a hand around the base of his cock, pumping him once, angling him toward where she was absolutely drenched for him.

Hunt stilled, though. Gritted his teeth as she pumped the magnificent length of him again. His eyes met hers.

Only lightning filled them. An avenging god.

The star on her chest flared, merging with his lightning. He laid a hand atop it. Claiming the star, the light. Claiming her.

Bryce positioned him at her entrance, panting at the brush of the blunt head of his cock. But she released him. Let him decide whether this was what he wanted. This final bridge between their souls.

The lightning cleared from his eyes—as if he willed it. As if he wanted her to see the male beneath.

Pure Hunt. No one and nothing else.

It was a question, somehow. As if he were showing her every scar and wound, every dark corner. Asking if this—if he—was what she really wanted. Bryce only smiled softly. “I love you,” she whispered. Shuddering, Hunt kissed her and slid home.

Nothing had ever felt so right.

Hunt worked himself into her, filling her deliciously, perfectly. With each gentle thrust, each inch gained into her, her light flared brighter. His lightning cracked, over and around them.

His back flexed beneath her fingers, his wings tucking in tight. His chest heaved in great bellows, pushing against her breasts, the star between them.

Another inch, another shudder of pleasure. And then he slid out. And out. And out.

His tongue flicked against hers as he slammed back, right to the hilt. Light spilled from her like an overflowing cup, rippling across the forest floor.

Bryce clawed at his back, his neck, and Hunt’s teeth found her breast, clamping down. She went wild, hips driving up to meet him, power clashing with power.

Hunt set a steady, punishing pace, and she laid her hands on his ass just to feel the muscles clenching with each thrust, to feel him pushing into her—

He claimed her mouth again, and Bryce wrapped her legs around his waist. She moaned as he sank in, and his thrusts turned harder, faster. Lightning and starlight ricocheted between them.

She needed him wilder. Needed him to release that edge of fear and rage and become her Hunt again. She tightened her legs around him, and flipped them. The world spun, and then she was staring down at him, his cock buried so deep—

Lightning flowed over his teeth as he panted, all those abs flexing. Gods, he was beautiful. And hers. Utterly hers.

Bryce lifted her hips, rising off his cock—and then plunged back down. She arched as he kissed the star on her chest. She rose again, a steady, taunting slide, and then impaled herself.

He snarled against her skin. “Merciless, Quinlan.”

Close. So close. She rose once more, luxuriating in each inch of his cock, nearly pulling herself from his tip. And as she drove down, she clenched her delicate inner muscles around him.

Hunt roared, and she was again on her back as he slammed into her. His power flowed over her, filled her, and she was him, and he was her, and then his cock hit that perfect spot deep in her, and the world was only light—

Release blasted through her, and Bryce might have been laughing, or sobbing, or shouting his name. Hunt rode her through it all, nursing every last drop of pleasure, and then he was moving again, punishing thrusts that sent them sliding across the mossy floor. His wings were a wall of gray above them, his wings were—glowing.