male you need to be concerned with.”
Her anger sparked, as fierce as his own. “That is exactly why I get crystal. I want you be proud.”
“I don’t need you to take risks for me. I’ve said it before. I don’t want to have to say it again.”
“I don’t care how many times you say. We a team.” Her fangs flashed as she snarled up at him. “That is not just you protecting me. That is us working together.”
“Damn it, Nayla. I can’t be worried about you all the time. I need to stay focused.”
“Then do. I stronger than you think.” Rising upward, she slammed her mouth on his.
His control snapped, the seething darkness inside igniting into white-hot lust.
He rolled in the sand, putting her on top: a gorgeous, wild pixie covered in sand and clay, her gaze heavy with lust.
He could not lose her.
She sank a fang into his lip. Dropped the crystal. Ran her hands across his skin while his fingers tangled in her hair and he pressed kisses to every inch of her precious flesh. Licking. Sucking. Nipping. All the tension from the past few rotations, all the worry over him and the crew morphing into primal need.
Until she shoved her hands against his chest so she was sitting upright as she straddled him. Her chest heaved, her wild tangle of hair splashing water onto his skins, as cool as she was hot.
Their gazes locked.
He gripped her ass with sandy hands and lifted her, the thick head of his cock nudging her wet, slippery heat.
He waited.
Everything slowed, his heart a hammer against his ribs
“Yes.” She answered his unspoken question.
He dragged her downward onto his cock. Her head rolled back. Her nails scoured his chest.
“More.”
His strokes grew almost punishing as he propelled her up and down his cock.
Snarling, fangs flashing, she met each thrust with her own fierce offensive. Her channel squeezing him tight. An answer. A show of strength.
His balls drew tight. The urge to answer with his own overwhelming.
He shoved upward, lifting her off him. Turning her so that she was on her hands and knees and he loomed behind.
He was deep inside her once more in the next heartbeat.
Her back arched. She sank to her elbows, her ass lifting higher.
The monster inside him roared, but this time with pleasure.
One arm bound around her waist while he sucked the fingers of his other hand free of sand and then found her clit, working her in time with his thrusts.
Their wet, sandy bodies locked tight together as she bounced on his cock and the pad of his thumb circled her greedy little nub. Faster and faster.
Until they exploded in a burst of need and fury. His body cradling her, dominating hers, as they were swept together along a current of pleasure more powerful than the river crashing against the shore.
He was still catching his breath when he saw the marks on her skin, the faint finger bruises at her hips.
“Shit, Nayla.” He flipped her over, pulling her into his arms. When he left bruises or caused pain it was done on purpose. Not because he’d lost control.
He was beyond relieved when satisfied kitten eyes met his.
“No need be sorry.” Her words were slurred, but her expression was triumphant. As if she’d gotten exactly what she wanted.
She pushed against his chest and came to standing on wobbly legs, her hair a tangled mess, her lips swollen and red as she stared down at him, hands on hips. “I am strong, Grif.”
Clever pixie. His fury was gone too, fucked right out of him, but his worry for her was still as gut-wrenching as ever.
“I know you are,” he agreed, “but—ˮ
She shook her head. “No but.” She scooped up the crystal and then her covering. “I need you let me be strong for you, just like you are for me.”
Turning away, she left him sitting on the bank, sand covering pretty much everywhere, panic a tight grip on his throat.
Because how the hells was he supposed to do that when the situation had never been more dangerous?
41
“The spear was working when you and Bain left it by the fire. Now it’s not.” Malin stared at Grif, expectation and accusation swirling in his gaze. “Don’t tell me that’s not suspicious.”
“I won’t.” The vise around Grif’s chest tightened. He surveyed the area looking for clues.
It had been three rotations since Nayla had returned with the danashe crystal and presented it to Bain—the pride in her expression something Grif would always remember. Along with