My body jerks, the storm of sensations racing from my sex so strong that my lungs tighten. River’s mouth pulls on my bud, each suckle shoving me up a new rung of sensation so fully that I don’t realize River’s hand is exploring my sex until . . . Two fingers thrust into me, impaling deep and hard. Making me buck, which only pushes my apex deeper into his mouth. Too much. The thrust, thrust, thrust of his hand, fast and merciless along my spasming channel, the flaming heat that River’s tongue and lips send shooting from my bud.

His mouth still on me, River’s wet fingers slide out from my channel and brush along the length of my folds. Up and down, up and—I suck in a startled breath as I feel a slick finger circling my back hole. The pressure growing more insistent with each pass. No. Oh, no no no.

River’s tongue flicks against my apex, bringing me painfully close to release. “Relax,” he orders, spreading more of my wetness to his new target. Confident. Undeniable. “Take a breath and relax.”

The moment I do, a painful stretching fills my backside. I try to tighten but it’s much too late. River’s finger penetrates the tight ring of muscle and slides in with a bouquet of sensations that magnify everything. A moment later, two other fingers slide right back into my sex. Filling both channels. A new wave of need and pleasure ripples from our connection, gripping me all the way to my curling toes.

I jerk against the restraints, as unyielding as the iron arm holding my thighs open. There is no place to go. No escape. Nothing to do but feel every one of River’s merciless strokes that shove me closer to the edge of the abyss. My very lack of freedom somehow fuels my desire, heightening every sensation.

How much I like this makes as little sense as River’s words did. His insistence that it’s me, not Daz, who he longs for. And yet—yet my body responds to his every touch. The complete attention that River focuses on me is as arousing as his fingers filling my sex . . . and more.

“Stop thinking, Leralynn,” he orders, grazing my bud with his teeth to emphasize his point. His voice is even deeper than usual, low and masculine and sex-clenchingly commanding. “Just feel.”

My breaths come in gasps, my body struggling despite the futility of it. I tighten my sex as if I can trap River’s fingers inside me, keep them a moment longer. When he stops long enough to free himself, I whimper with relief—until I get a good look at that cock of his. Long and wide and already glistening with droplets of him.

I shudder as River lowers my hips and swirls his cock’s head in my wetness, his gray eyes meeting mine with predatory intent. He reaches forward to stroke my peaked nipple, then suddenly pinches it hard enough to send a sharp sting from the breast directly to my bud. The sting reaches my sex at the same moment that River buries himself inside me, the tiny pain turning to unbearable pleasure.

He doesn’t wait. Gives me no chance to adjust to his great size before his cock finds a target deep inside me, pounding it with forceful strokes that make me clench and moan uncontrollably. The bed creaks with our movement and I pull against my restraints, wishing I could sink my nails into his backside to pull him even deeper. Right when I think I can’t take it anymore, River claims my mouth and skims his thumb across my apex at the same time, sending me toppling over the edge with a scream of pleasure.

He shouts with his own release a heartbeat later, panting as he goes limp and falls atop me. With great effort, he finds the strength to rise to his knees and set my hands loose. I run my palms over River’s muscles, still trembling with the aftershocks of release. My male. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I nuzzle into him, taking in his scent of earth and maleness and climax. Great, powerful, predatory male. Mine.

Without thinking, I sink my teeth into the tender juncture of River’s neck and shoulder.

The speed with which River awakens, jerking upright with his cock so hard I can see it twitch with every heartbeat, makes me choke on a laugh. Eyes flashing, River flips me onto my belly and takes me again until all thoughts of rebellion are muffled beneath unbearable pleasure.

“Would this be a good time to tell you that the shirt you ripped off me was actually Autumn’s?” I say, as River and I finally find the floor, our eyes still glistening with afterglow. His cuts have opened, of course, and he sinks obediently into a chair as I drown a washcloth in a basin atop his dresser.

“I’ll make it up to Autumn later,” he says between clenched teeth, hissing as I press the cloth to a cut.

I dab gently, though the giant of a male still jumps at each brush of the cloth. “You are a terrible patient,” I say, pressing a kiss to the top of his shoulder and receiving a wry look in response. “All right, so you’ve a plan for Autumn. What about me?”

“I’ve a plan for that too.” River rises, ignoring my protests, and pulls a package out from one of his drawers. “I was saving this until we passed all the trials, but I think today feels appropriate.”

Taking the wrapped bundle from River’s hands, I tug the strings and open the paper to reveal a gown of golden yellow silk, its skirt made to breathe and flow with the mildest of breezes. My breath halts, my fingers running wonderingly along the fabric. “It’s exquisite,” I whisper, looking at River. “Like a piece of the sun made real.”

Taking the dress from my hands, River slips it over my head, the cool silk falling perfectly over my hips. “You are the sun made real, Leralynn,” he whispers into my ear. “The dress is just an accessory.”

Excusing myself from River’s room to find a fresh pair of underthings and brush the tangles out of my hair, I return to the common room to find Shade’s wolf sleeping and Autumn giving me such a knowing look that my cheeks burn.

“I like the dress,” she says, her lips quivering to keep a grin in check.

“Mortal.” Coal’s call seems a welcome escape until I turn to find the penetrating intensity of his eyes. When he crooks a finger to call me over, warning bells clatter in my mind. And here I thought we were done with pre-dinner surprises. As I stride over to him, the smooth honey-gold fabric of my dress caressing my thighs, the male’s gaze never leaves mine. Coal steps backward as I approach so we slide into the corridor on his side of the suite, the small step suddenly distancing us from the main-room banter.

Coal crosses corded arms over his chest, leaning one shoulder against the wall. His eyes, stormy in the low light, pierce mine. “What happened during the fight with Griorgi?” he demands quietly.

“I—the magical cords inside me overwhelmed my control.” I stumble on the words with a sinking feeling that Coal is asking about something else. That his keen eyes did not miss a single one of my motions in that cellar, no matter that he was chained to a wall.

“You escaped a guillotine hold and attacked the bastard’s elbow, and then you froze like a cowering puppy hearing an angry master’s footsteps,” Coal says bluntly. He takes hold of my chin before I can turn away, his blue eyes preventing even my gaze from escaping. “What happened, mortal? What did you see?”

My muscles tense and Coal’s grip tightens, a warning against running before I even start. “It was stupid,” I huff, though my heart quickens at the paralyzing memory. Griorgi’s large form advancing on me, the sheer powerlessness of the moment, the knowledge of the coming strike. As if I’ve not faced more serious problems before. “My mind was muddled with the magic and . . . and it won’t happen again.”

“Yes, it will,” Coal says softly. “If you are going to go rummaging through my nightmares and fears, I’m sure as hell going to rummage through yours. And we’ll get out of them together. Now. What did you see?”

“Master Zake,” I whisper, heat filling my cheeks. Damn Coal for making me say this. For making me acknowledge it at all. I bite my lip, tasting a bit of blood. “I stand up to the bloody king of Slait, and then he reminds me of a pitiful human and I crumble like sand. It’s . . .”

“It’s something I understand.” Coal leans down, his brilliant blue eyes never leaving mine as he brushes a kiss over my lips. “Not that I’m going to let it lie in ambush inside your mind,” he adds, a corner of his mouth twitching to take the sting out of the promise. “But I do understand.”

Warmth spreads through me despite the warning, and I lean my head against Coal’s hard chest. The thump, thump, thump of his steady heart sends waves of safety through me. When Coal’s hand slides between my shoulder blades to my lower back, turning me back toward the common room, I twist to look at him over my shoulder. “This is where normal beings would offer a hug. In case you wanted to practice.”

“I don’t want to practice,” Coal informs me. “I do, however, want to keep our common room from being destroyed.”

I frown, taking in the space. Everything seems perfectly normal. Autumn stands on her toes to adjust River’s shirt collar. Shade’s wolf snoozes on the couch, one ear resting on his fuzzy paws. Tye, dressed in black plants and a golden shirt with ruffled cuffs, is striding from his bedchamber. “Is the room in danger?” I ask quietly.

“Watch Tye,” Coal murmurs into my ear, starting a slow count. “Ten, nine—”

“What—” That’s as far as I get before I realize something is off with the male’s outfit. Golden shirt. Black pants. One boot.

The previously sleeping Shade is suddenly up and off the couch, streaking across the floor with speed to rival a sprinting panther.

“I am going to skin you,” Tye bellows, his emerald eyes flashing murder as Shade’s sleek gray form circles around him at full stride. A dark object in Tye’s hand, which I belatedly realize is the gnarled remnant of a chewed-up boot, goes flying at Shade’s head.

The wolf fishtails to avoid the boot, knocking Autumn off her feet in the process. The small female falls, curses, and comes to her feet with sparks blazing.

“Zero,” Coal finishes behind me and strides into the common room. “Come, mortal, we’ve a world to save.”