The crack of her head hitting the wood echoed in her ears, and she blinked dots out of her vision, feeling the spread of warmth as blood smeared across her forehead.

She cursed, calling him every horrible name in both languages to hide the way her body sang at the pain. As if there was any way to hide what she felt from him. And she didn’t really want to anymore. Whatever this was? His body sang for it too.

Ignoring her foul mouth, Jaren grabbed her hips, pressing his nails in painfully as he flipped her onto her back. But instead of pinning her beneath his weight like she expected, he dipped both hands under the band of her new leggings and ripped them down the front.

The snug fabric dug into her sides from his brutal treatment, and she inhaled sharply, choking when his scent poured down her throat. Whatever minimal restraint he’d been using was gone, and nothing but unquenchable, feral lust remained as he tore the rest of her clothes from her body.

She couldn’t fight against the pull of it—of him—and she no longer wanted to. Not as their bond pulsed, and he flung her thighs open and dove down, gliding his tongue straight through her center. Her head fell back in bliss, the firm pressure of his tongue drawing a hoarse groan up her throat.

He growled in answer, the vibration doing unimaginable things to her as he frantically lapped at her wetness like it was the nectar to life.

“You taste like you enjoy my marks, aitanta,” he murmured into her heat. “Tell me, am I going to have to leave one on every visible inch of your skin, or are you going to behave?”

She cursed, digging her nails into his scalp, even as her back arched and her thighs clamped his head in place. “Please.”

“Or maybe misbehaving is exactly what you want.” He thrust his tongue inside her, swirling and caressing before pulling out and working it over her clit in a way that nearly had her in tears.

“I do not own you, Veralie, just as I do not own any star in the sky,” he said in between hard flicks. “But you are mine, nonetheless.”

Her breaths came harsher and quicker as he pushed his thumb inside her, that tingle working higher up her spine and threatening to tip her over the edge. “Okay.”

“I want to hear you say it.” He pulled his thumb out only to quickly replace it with a sharp thrust of two fingers. He buried them as deep as they’d go, sucking hard on her clit as he did.

She arched off the floor, holding onto his hair for dear life while she ground against his face. “Oh gods, I’m yours.”

“Mine. Mine to use, mine to pleasure, mine to hurt. And I will mark you until every Magyki on Bhasura knows it.”

“Please, Jaren.” She didn’t care anymore. He could cover her arms in them, and she wouldn’t say a word against it, just as long as he stopped talking and put his mouth back on her. But he didn’t. He just kept thrusting his fingers as he raised his head and met her gaze.