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More. Yeah, he could give her more. He thought he could love her like this forever and still another day, despite his own raging need to climax. A need that was building and building, consuming him, but he’d never been more determined to brand himself into another being. And he would. Until every cell she possessed wept with knowledge of him, unable to deny him in any way.

That way, she would never forget that she belonged to him, never forget what he would do to her if she scared him again. Not that this would be much of a deterrent. Hell, he was giving her a reason to get her ass kicked every goddamn day. Almost die, and she’d get the best sex of her life. No damn ego check required, thank you.

He just…he didn’t want this moment to end. He needed this. Needed her.

Keeping him at a distance wasn’t an option. Yeah, he’d known how she would react when she found out she had burned him. And yeah, he’d confessed only when she’d been unable to kick up much of a fit about it. Hello. He was smart. But like he’d told her, charring him over an open flame had been an accident. What he hadn’t told her, but something they would cover later? It had been an accident he’d incited.

She’d been dying, gasping that final breath. He’d seen enough people die to know when the Grim Reaper would be called. And he’d known Lucien would soon be called. Lucien would have heeded the summons, too, no matter how hotly Strider protested. He would have taken Kaia’s soul to the afterlife, as his demon, Death, required. Knowing that was about to happen, Strider had fallen straight into bat-shit crazy land and pulled a Gideon.

He’d married his woman.

He’d recalled how Gideon had raved about slicing himself, then slicing Scarlet and combining their blood. The old-school way to get hitched. The action had bound their lives, their souls, and Gideon’s strength had become Scarlet’s. So Strider had done it. Sliced himself and then Kaia. The moment the blade had sunk into the sensitive flesh between her breasts, she had erupted, thrashing, the fires starting all over again.

A little of his skin had melted—like, the top half of his body—but that had been a small price to pay for her life. He’d already been her consort, but he’d added a little…spice to the relationship. Made them equals. Partners. And gods, the knowledge just about felled him.

Mine, he thought now. My wife. Always.

With every climax Kaia had, Defeat became a little more confident in his ability to tame her. A little more possessive of her. Like Strider, the bastard had realized she would never purposely hurt him, that winning her—something no other man had ever done—was one of the greatest victories of their existence.

Bastard was also pouring pleasure straight into Strider’s veins and it was almost more than he could bear.

“Strider,” Kaia moaned, her sweet, curvy ass wiggling as he once again slowed his thrusts. “Please.”

The snow continued to fall, an exquisite storm he saw but didn’t feel. His woman was too hot. A heat he welcomed, adored, craved…hadn’t known he needed. Heat now represented Kaia, pleasure and satisfaction. A potent combination. He’d probably sport an erection all through the summer.

“Have you learned your lesson?” The words were practically ripped from his throat, his need causing his voice box to constrict.

“Yes.”

Leaning down, he pressed his chest into her searing back, the ridges of her spine creating the most delicious friction against his flesh. She murmured her approval. But much as he, too, fancied this new, deeper contact, he didn’t stay that way. He wound his arms around her and lifted them both so that they were on their knees, hers inside of his.

His aching cock never slid free of her and she hit the root of him. Her head fell to his shoulder, the length of her silky hair tickling him between their bodies. He moved one hand to her breast, the beaded pink nipple peaking from between his fingers. He moved his other hand to her wet, wet core.

“Damn you, move harder!” she commanded, her movements uncoordinated now. “Faster.”

“No. Tell me what you’ve learned first,” he demanded, keeping himself still. He didn’t brush her clit, just teased the sensitive, swollen bud with his nearness.

She growled. “That I won’t hurt you by losing control during sex. FYI, I learned that about five climaxes ago, you bastard.”

“Hadn’t realized you were such a quick study.”

“So why aren’t you moving? I will hurt you if you don’t finish this!” That growl was sharper by the second. Her claws sank into his thighs as she said, “I swear, I’ll finish myself and leave you to rot.”

A rough chuckle left him. So impatient, his woman. Thank the gods. He wouldn’t have her any other way.

“I love you,” Strider told her. Before she could reply, he angled his head and meshed their lips together, his tongue driving against and rolling with hers. He gripped her hips and forced her to ride him, burying his cock as deep as it could go with each downward thrust, impaling her, then almost leaving her with each upward glide.