When she finished, Alo took the bowl from her hands without asking and wiped at her mouth with a thumb. She stilled under the touch, caught off-guard by the intimacy of it.
He didn't move away when she looked up. Instead, he curled his body even closer and rested his brow against hers while he took in her scent, breathing it in like it was the air itself.
"My tribe is strong in numbers, but we have no females not a single one," he said, his voice deepening. "We're still four days from our territory. I'll need to keep you close, protect you every moment until we arrive."
Alo continued, "Females… are rare. Most have never seen one. They may not know how to behave."
She blinked. "Will they hurt me?"
He shook his head, furious and immediate. The unspoken but hung bright between them.
"They will challenge you," he said. "But you will not be alone."
They— who? His tribe? His pack? The thought terrified and thrilled her at the same time.
"Do I… have to stay with you?" she asked, genuinely curious, not testing his boundaries so much as trying to locate them in her mind.
Alo was silent for a long time, face unreadable except for the wild dark of his eyes. "You do not have to do anything. But if you go, many will follow. It is better to rule than to run."
Rule? Rule! The word thudded in her brain. She'd never ruled anything before, except her own small tragedies. She didn't know if she could.
But the heat of him, so close, so certain, made her want to believe.
She risked a glance downward, toward where his body pressed against hers. The thing between them she knew what it meant, biologically, but not what it meant to Alo. She wondered if he planned to…
She flushed, blood rushing hot and visible beneath pale skin. Her whole body seemed to fill with the gentlest ripple of shame and wonder, a softness that made her bite her lip and look up at him, pupils wide and blue. The helplessness of it was real. So was the wanting, though she'd never dare name it aloud.
Alo's self-control snapped like a trap sprung. He made a wordless noise half pain, half prayer and bent his head so their foreheads pressed hard together. She could feel how careful he was not to crush her, though everything in his frame begged for violence: his arms caged her, but he hadn't yet dared to lay a proper hand. Not until now.
"Can I?" he asked, voice so low it cracked into silence.
She didn't trust herself to speak. Instead, she closed her eyes and nodded, small and desperate, one sharp breath lifting her chest against his.
It was enough.
He kissed her not with the gentleness she'd imagined, but with the absolute certainty of rivers shaping stone. His mouth claimed hers, open and hot, nothing tentative, nothing left to hope for.
She gasped against him, the rush of it dizzying, and clung to his shoulders because she had no other anchor.
He gathered her in, cupping her head in one massive hand, locking her in place while he tasted her, breathing her in like a miracle. The kiss deepened, lips parted, tongues brushing in a flash that shocked her through. She had never no one had ever she clung harder, as if she could melt the bright terror from her bones and pour it into him.
Alo drew back, just barely, resting his brow against hers. Both of them were breathing like they'd been hunted.
"You can push me away," he whispered, rough with hunger. "Any time."
She couldn't.
She covered the back of his hand with her own, small fingers lost in the expanse. "Don't," she said, almost a whimper.
He growled actually growled and swept her under him, rolling their bodies so she straddled his thighs, blanket falling away. He was so much bigger, a full-blooded predator and furnace in one. But he didn't pull at her he just waited, every inch vibrating with the want she had never let herself believe she could inspire.
Her hands shook as she traced his jaw, grazing the dark stubble. There was something holy in touching what could destroy her, as if she could learn safety by tasting the edge. She pressed her lips to his, tentative at first, then surer as he let her set the pace.
The world contracted to the blood beating in her ears, the heat, the slow, deliberate press of his tongue when she parted for him. Luna realized she was crying, not out of fear but because nothing in her life had ever been designed for pleasure, and this was pleasure so sharp it hurt.
He felt the tears, licked them from her face like an animal.
"Shhh," he soothed against her mouth. "You're safe."
But it was no platitude. She could feel the truth of it in his hold, the way he moved only when she leaned, the way he kept one arm bracing her back while the other cradled the base of her skull, keeping her from folding in on herself.
There was pressure at her hips hard, insistent, impossible not to notice even through layers. He dragged his hands down her body, slow, unhurried, then gripped her waist and settled her full weight against his lap. She whimpered again, high and thin, unable to stop herself.
He pushed the hair from her face, petting it smooth. "I can wait," he rasped, but his hips bucked slightly, betraying just how little patience he had.
"I don't want you to," she confessed, voice so small it almost didn't escape.
He choked, something feral flashing in his eyes. "Say it again."
She looked at his mouth, then at his eyes, then at nothing at all.
"I want you," she managed.
The world spun. Alo rolled her beneath him so her back pressed into the loam, body sheltering her utterly. He nuzzled into her neck, teeth scraping gently at her skin, a careful warning of what he could do and never would.
"You belong to me," he told her, but it sounded like a vow, not a threat.
She let him claim her, soft belly yielding to his hunger, hands still planted at his jaw. His fingers found her pulse, thumb stroking down to the hollow of her throat, and with every touch the wet heat between her legs grew, a need she hadn't known could be so total.
He shifted, spreading her thighs with his knee, never breaking eye contact, watching for panic. There was none only the buzz of want, the dizzying knowledge that she could refuse and he would stop.
She squeezed her eyes shut and nodded, helpless.
Alo fumbled at her dress there was nothing careful about how it shredded beneath his claws, but he left her underthings intact, fingers tracing their delicate seams. She arched, blinded by sensation. Every nerve felt electric, overfull.
He bit at her collarbone, licking the sting away. His hand crept up her trembling thigh, stopping just short of touching her through the thin fabric. She gasped, grasped his wrist, guiding him. He groaned, so guttural it made her clench even harder around the ache.
"Please," she whispered.
He yanked her panties aside and pressed two fingers to her slit, finding her wet, so ready it made his breath falter.
"Sweetest thing," he murmured against her ear.
He worked her open gently, slow circles, watching her face the whole time, feeding on every tremble and every moan she tried to swallow. The world shrank to the rhythm of his hand, the pressure building until she felt like she might break apart.
He pressed his thumb to the swollen bud at the center, and her hips jerked. He kissed her again, swallowing her cries, and thrust one thick finger inside. A second followed. She writhed, but there was no pain, only fullness and the desperate, giddy urge for more.
He kept at it until she shattered, body bucking, mouth open in a silent scream.
He didn't stop.
He didn't let her go, either, just held her through the storm until she was limp and weeping against his chest. When she found air, she laughed brokenly, the sound strange even to her own ears.
He nuzzled her cheek, kissing her tear tracks. "Still want?" he teased, voice hoarse.
She nodded, grinning through her tears. "Still want."
He worked her up again, and again, until she was boneless, ruined, so spent she couldn't recall her own name.
When he finally pressed into her, slow and careful, she opened for him like it had been decided at the beginning of the world.