Her eyes had the power to send electricity fizzing down my spine and between my legs. Her laughter had the magic to make my chest ache and body throb. And when she stopped in a small clearing at twilight and shrugged off her backpack, she turned to me, not with relief at finding somewhere to rest, but with a demand I could no longer ignore.
I knew.
Even before she opened her mouth.
I knew.
With suddenly shaky hands, I pushed at the straps and let my bag slam to the forest floor.
The air changed. The trees froze. The creatures silenced.
“Della…” I didn’t know if I spoke in warning or acceptance or denial. Whatever I was feeling was drowned out by the overpowering appetite in my blood.
I wanted her.
I wanted her more than I could stand.
Taking a step toward me, Della reached up and undid the blue ribbon in her ponytail. The gold mass plunged around her face, making my mouth dry and my cock pay utmost attention.
“We haven’t put up the tent,” I groaned, breaking beneath the heavy pressure in my chest. The pressure that was done waiting. The pressure I’d been living with for so fucking long.
“I don’t care.” She bent and undid her laces, kicking her boots away, not fussed where they landed.
My knees trembled to move—either to her or away from her, I couldn’t quite decide. Thanks to the week of teasing, I didn’t trust myself around her. I didn’t know my limit of self-control anymore. I didn’t know how spectacularly I’d snap and what would happen if I did.
She’d always been my Della, but right here, right now, I was hers. Well and truly hers.
A slave to his queen, enraptured and caught and begging for her mercy. I was ready to kneel before her, but that final part of me that didn’t fully trust he could have this perfect life, the tiny sliver that still believed he ought to love her the way he always had, gave one last attempt at propriety.
“We’re dirty. We need a bath.” I spread my hands, revealing the mud-smudges and grime from hiking all day.
“I don’t care about that, either.” Her voice lost its sweet melodic tone, slipping straight into sin.
Goddammit.
I couldn’t compete with that.
I couldn’t deny her or myself any longer. She’d put a curse on me, deleting any other arguments or delays, keeping me pinned in her stare.
She stepped again, and my cock swelled to an agonising hardness. I coughed around a groan. “Della…you’re making this impossible for me.”
“Good.”
“What if we’re rushing—” Even to my ears that excuse was empty.
I was ready. So fucking ready.
“We’re not.” She wrapped the ribbon around her wrist, tying it quickly.
“At least let me put up the tent.”
“No.”
“We only get one first time, Della.”
“And I can’t wait any longer.”
“I’m not sleeping with you without a bed.” If there wasn’t something soft to support her, I didn’t know what sort of state she’d be in once I’d finished.
“Too bad we don’t have one.”
“If you gave me a few minutes, I could set it up.” I pointed helplessly at my bag. “At least let me—”
“I can’t wait another minute, Ren.” Her hair glittered in the fading light as she shook her head. “All day, I’ve been counting. Just another minute, just another minute. And now, we’re here. And I have no more minutes.
My heart lurched. “Our minutes seem to be up.”
“They do.”
“What does that mean for us?” My voice was smoky and hot.
“It means you made me do this. You made me this way. I promised I wouldn’t push you, but Ren…you’ve been torturing me. When you licked my tattoo…? God, I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m in a state of permanent wetness.”
I choked on the sudden avalanche of lust. “Della—”
“Too much for you? Too honest?” Her cheeks burned with the same sexual fever I suffered. “Too bad. You’re to blame.”
I chuckled darkly. “Me? It’s you I can’t keep my hands off. It’s your fault I constantly need to touch you, kiss you.”
“So do it.”
“I don’t know if I can be gentle.” I shook my head. “No, I know I can’t be gentle. Not after—”
“I’m not asking for gentle.” She smiled thinly, almost angry with me in her desire. “I’m asking for you to put me out of my misery. No more teasing. We face this. Together. Right now.”
I gulped as I stepped toward her, already lost. “Face what we’ve been running from for years?”
She nodded sharply. “No more running.”
I sucked in a lust-heavy breath, coughing once. “No more running.” I stepped again. Entirely entranced by the violent hunger lashing us together. It was so damn powerful it muted everything else.
No thoughts. No accusations. No fear.
Just us.
As it had always been.
My mind raced, already drunk on images of how good we’d be together. Of how she’d feel as I slipped inside her. Of how hot and wet and—