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For a single heartbeat he only stared. Then the last thread of control snapped.
He hauled me against him so hard the air left my lungs. One hand clamped around my waist hard enough to bruise; the other still fisted in my hair. His mouth crashed onto mine—not a kiss, but a claiming. Sharp teeth sank into my lower lip until I tasted copper. Fear never came. I moaned into his mouth instead, arching, fingers twisting in his shirt.
When he finally tore away, both of us gasping, his voice was pure gravel.
"Upstairs. Now."
He didn’t wait for me to move. In one effortless motion, he swept me into his arms as if I weighed nothing. A startled cry escaped me; my arms locked around his neck on instinct. He crossed the living room in long, predatory strides, took the stairs three at a time, and kicked open the door at the end of the hall.
The bedroom was vast. A wall of glass opened onto an endless dark forest washed in the last bloody light of sunset. I barely registered the view—Magnus was already carrying me to the bed, an enormous expanse of mattress that seemed built for something far larger than a man.
He dropped me onto it. I bounced once on the yielding surface before his body covered mine, blotting out the world. His weight, his scorching heat, the thick wild scent of him wrapped around me like a living cage.
"Don’t move," he growled, black eyes blazing with a hunger so raw it stole what little breath I had left. "Don’t even think about teasing me."
His hands found the hem of my sweater and yanked it over my head in one ruthless pull. I gasped and tried to cover myself, but he caught both my wrists, pinned them above my head with a single powerful hand, and held them there.
"I said don’t move." The threat in his voice was unmistakable. "Or do you want me to tie you down?"
I shook my head quickly, chest rising and falling in shallow, rapid breaths.
"Good girl."
His free hand unhooked my bra with practiced ease and stripped the fabric away. Cool air kissed overheated skin; my nipples tightened instantly. Magnus went still, simply staring, and the naked hunger in his gaze poured liquid fire through every vein.
"Perfect," he rasped.
Then his hot mouth closed over one peak. The sensation ripped a moan from my throat and arched my back hard against the mattress. He bit down—sharp enough to sting—then soothed the ache with a slow, deliberate lick before drawing me deeper. Every pull of his mouth sent pulses of pleasure-pain straight between my clenched thighs. I writhed beneath him, trying to free my hands, but his grip never loosened.
His free hand slid lower. He tore his mouth from my breast only long enough to yank my sweatpants and underwear down in one brutal pull, baring me completely.
Instinct made me try to close my knees. He forced them wide with unyielding hands and settled between my thighs, heavy and inevitable.
"Don’t you dare hide from me," he growled, the sound pure wolf. "Never. You’re mine. And I’ll look at you for as long as I damn well please."
He sat back on his heels and simply stared. That dark, assessing gaze traveled slowly over every inch of me—flushed face, marked throat, bare breasts, soft belly, and lower—until I felt utterly exposed, stripped of every defense.
"Magnus..." I whispered.
"Quiet." The command cracked like a whip. His palms settled on my knees and began a burning path up the insides of my thighs. "You don’t speak until I ask. Understood?"
I nodded, teeth sinking into my lip.
"Words, Jane."
"Yes," I breathed. "Understood."
"Good girl."
His fingers traced a deliberate line from my navel downward, where everything already burned. The touch was feather-light as it slipped between my folds. A sharp cry tore from my throat; my hips jerked. He smiled—dark, predatory.
"Already so wet for me," he rasped, fingertips circling, teasing. "And I haven’t even begun."
One thick finger pushed inside, then a second. Magnus shuddered, burying his face against my neck to drag in a deep, greedy breath of my scent. His fingers moved again—deep, slow, relentless.
The stretch was unfamiliar, almost uncomfortable, but not painful. Not until he curled them and found a spot that made stars burst behind my eyes. At the same moment, his thumb settled over the swollen peak above and began to circle with devastating precision. Heat gathered low and fast, pulsing, building.
"Magnus... please..." The moan slipped free before I could stop it. Fire was spreading through every limb, thickening, demanding.
"What does my mate want?" Dark pleasure saturated his voice. "Speak clearly. Tell me what you need."
"I... I don’t know..." I confessed, writhing, body aching for something more even as my mind spun.
"Then I’ll decide for you."
He withdrew his fingers. The sudden emptiness dragged a broken sound from my throat—but he didn’t make me wait.
Fabric rustled. A belt buckle clinked. I lifted my head and watched him strip the shirt from his shoulders. Sunset light spilled crimson across his skin, outlining the black-flame tattoos that seemed to writhe with every breath. For a split second, his irises flashed pure scarlet, and he looked less like a man than a god of war.
Then he shoved his pants and underwear down.
Fear returned in an icy rush. He was massive—thick, rigid, flushed dark, and so much larger than anything I had imagined. It would never fit.
"Don’t be afraid," he growled, settling between my thighs again. The scorching, steel-hard length of him pressed against my belly. "You were made to take me. Your body already knows it, even if your mind is still scared."
He guided the broad head to my entrance and pushed. Slow. Inexorable. The pressure built and built as he forced past the tight resistance, stretching me far beyond anything I had felt before. Too much. Far too much.
"Breathe," he ordered against my throat, lips brushing my collarbones, teeth grazing. "Just breathe and relax for me."
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