Chapter 287: Jacuzzi Of The Gods: Unholy Edition

Fated mates were rare. What they could do for each other was rarer.

Skin-to-skin contact was the cheat code for fast healing.

Nicholas’s father had taught him that once, though most healers would consider it fairy-tale nonsense. He was trusting faith, pure instinct, and the wolf currently screaming "clothes are a hate crime."

He released her neck and yanked his shirt over his head like the thing had personally wronged him, then moved to hers. His hands hesitated for half a second of pure ’this is happening’ before he yanked the whole fucking ensemble off, bralette included.

Then he saw her and he forgot how to breathe.

Heat punched straight to his groin. His cock thickened and lurched up, straining against the wet fabric like it was trying to escape prison. The head of him throbbed with every panicked heartbeat, borderline painful.

Not now.

He muttered it like a holy fucking prayer while his hands didn’t stop until they were both completely bare. Everything. Gone.

Then he yanked her flush to him. Zero gaps. Her breasts to his chest.

White lines lit up wherever skin met skin, throbbing in a rhythm that was their heartbeats desperately trying to match and failing because hers was barely there and his was pounding like a war drum and the gap between them was the gap between alive and almost.

His hips twitched forward once before he locked them in place, muscles shaking with the effort of not thrusting against her stomach.

"Hang on, baby," he said against her neck. "I’ll get you more."

He bit down again and released a second wave of venom.

It was working. He could feel the silver retreating through the matebond, each pocket of poison collapsing as his venom reached it and burned it clean.

Her wolf answered. Faint as hell. Flickering. But there. His wolf grabbed hers like a last-second catch of a falling body and the two locked together. Still in human form, yet he felt hers in his chest as solid as his own.

The tree above them groaned, roots shifting in the pool, bark glowing brighter as if the entire organism was aware that something sacred was happening in its water and was contributing.

Her heart steadied.

He felt it through their matebond and against his chest. The flutter that had been inconsistent and terrifying smoothed into something that resembled a rhythm. Weak. Irregular. But no longer declining.

He released her neck to check the progress and saw the dark veins had gotten the memo and started to pull back.

Then her eyes snapped open.

"Guinevere?"

She blinked at him but did not answer.

Instead she moved his hands down her body beneath the water. Her hips. Her thighs. The curve of her waist. Every place his skin met hers the runes flared and the pool answered with a pulse.

The venom had knocked her out. It felt like her wolf was moving her, yet not.

"Guinevere... I—"

Her mouth crashed onto his, shutting him the fuck up while her legs locked around him like a vice. Arms clamped behind his neck. She lined herself up so the head of his cock pressed right against her heat, and pulled away from their kiss just enough to press her forehead to his.

That’s when he noticed her eyes were glowing white, no green left, staring at him with an intensity that made his heart pound in his ears.

Then something inside him broke. For a second he didn’t know if it was his wolf controlling him or what.

He began to push inside her. She was so brutally tight that it felt like a fight he was already losing. Inch by thick inch she took him, the pressure so intense his vision flickered.

A raw, broken sound tore out of his throat.

He could feel every flutter of her walls, every desperate squeeze as her body tried to adjust to the thick stretch of him.

When he bottomed out with one final thrust, the pool flared bright gold.

It barely registered because he was already bouncing her on his cock while his hips snapped up to meet her.

"That’s it. Feel how deep I am? That’s where I’m going to empty myself."

The second the words left his mouth she started to ride him, driven by instinct or something else he wasn’t sure. All he knew was he didn’t want her to ever stop.

"Just like that. Fuck yourself on me," he groaned, gripping her ass with both hands and spreading her wider.

His mouth found her nipple and stayed there, sucking deep and relentless. Every pull of his tongue made her tighten around his cock like her body was trying to keep him buried.

The aches he felt from her through their matebond started to mend. White light pulsed from her straight into him like the gods had hit the heal button. It felt so good he was fighting the urge to cum already.

"Give me what I want, baby," he said against her breast. "You’re going to cum all over my cock and I’m going to feel every pulse while I keep fucking you through it."

The tree was vibrating, a waterfall had kicked on at the far end of the pool, and the water was pulsing with each thrust. The runes had stopped being patterns and had become a language he could almost read, almost understand, like the meaning was right there on the edge of comprehension and every thrust brought him a syllable closer.

A broken moan ripped from her throat as her orgasm hit, slamming into him through their matebond and taking him with her.

He buried himself to the hilt and came with a groan that started in his chest and ended in a register that belonged to his wolf.

The release was violent and absolute, territorial, his wolf marking every inch of her from the inside with the possessive efficiency of an animal that had lost this woman once and was making sure the universe understood: never again.

The pool turned solid white.

Her head fell against his shoulder and his arms locked around her, prepared to hold her like this until all the silver purged from her bloodstream.