Chapter 32

ChapterThirty-Two

Greed was so angry he couldn’t even speak. What had she been thinking? Not every treasure on this forgotten planet was worth risking her life for and hadn’t he just said that she was risking her life for the wrong reasons?

Even now, with his arms barred around her, clutching the reins so tightly they were cutting into his palms, he wanted to argue. He wanted to remind her that she was always risking her life as if she punished herself by doing so. Here she was, claiming to do this for her people, and yet she was trying to gather up the Lamp of Origins, of all things!

That lamp hadn’t been useful in years. He’d been there when all the magic had left it. Though it was useful in its time, it was quite literally junk now.

And she’d have known that.

If she had fucking asked him.

Grinding his teeth, he could hear the sounds that his jaw made, but he didn’t care that she might be able to hear it as well. She deserved it. She deserved to wonder if he was angry at her, or what she could do to make him less angry.

“Greed,” she started, then stopped talking when he answered with a warning growl.

He didn’t want to talk right now. He didn’t want her to say a word when she’d done the one thing he couldn’t forgive. She’d almost killed herself again. If he hadn’t been there, that massive snake would have consumed her body. And worse? He was probably the one who had given the desert enough blood to wake the old ones.

That snake wouldn’t exist if it wasn’t for him. He had been the one to feed the desert all those years ago, waking up those creatures that slumbered deep underneath the sands. They only woke when the scent of blood grew so strong that they could smell it. Miles underneath the sands. That was a lot of blood, and he knew from experience just how much it took to wake them.

Hissing out another angry breath at himself, at her, at the world they lived in, he kicked his mount into movement. Faster. The nuckelavee could move faster and his own personal mount would keep up.

Gluttony’s angry shout chased them, but his brother had never been as good at riding the beasts. Let his brother find his way back to the castle on his own. Greed didn’t care.

He wasn’t supposed to be a babysitter, anyway. If Gluttony got himself in trouble, Wrath could deal with him. Their brother in the underworld should have taken care of this himself.

He needed to have a conversation with a little troublemaker who needed to understand where her place was. And that was beneath him. On top of him. Sideways. Upside down. Whatever position he wanted her to be in.

Now that he’d gotten a taste, he wasn’t willing to give it up so easily again. She was his, and she’d admitted it. She didn’t get to take that away from him.

Varya had made a vow, and now he would remind her exactly what that meant.

They arrived at his home in record time. The servants and guards had seen him in the distance, so the gate stood open and ready as he thundered into his home. The nuckelavee raced past countless people who had prepared themselves to be useful, but he didn’t need them. Not right now.

Greed urged the beast as close to the stairs that led to his private quarters as it could get, and then he leapt from its back.

“Greed,” Varya tried again, her eyes wide with shock or fear. He didn’t know. He didn’t care.

In response, he hooked his arm around her waist and deposited her onto his shoulder. He could barely feel her tiny weight as he turned them from the beast and up the stairs. And perhaps it was dramatic, but he swore the oasis shuddered with his movements, as though it feared what he might do to the lovely pale flower that had wandered through its leaves.

She said nothing. Smart. Just dangled over his shoulder until they reached his rooms, where he placed her on her feet and then stalked past her. His mind was on one thing, and one thing only. He needed to prove to her why she wanted to stay. That she wanted to stay. That all they had discovered together, their pleasure, the blinding ache that had built in his chest with every peak they’d crashed over together. It was worth giving up her life for. She could stay here. Safe. He would keep her safe.

His chest rose and fell with anger, or rage, or... fear. He didn’t know. Greed barely even recognized that his breath was too quick, that his tail hadn’t stopped flicking since they’d gotten into the room, or that little growls were still rumbling through each of his exhales.

He couldn’t get control of himself. He didn’t think he wanted to.

“Greed,” Varya said a third time, this time with a bit harder tone. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I cannot help unless you tell me what is running through that mind of yours.”

“We have not resolved this.” Greed stalked to the back of the room and threw open a standing wardrobe. He’d given her time to indulge herself and explore his body. He knew what she wanted, but now she should know what he wanted.

All of her. Every inch. Every ounce of pleasure and pain and all the emotions she could give him. And he wouldn’t rest until he had been gifted all of that.

The wardrobe held sex toys of all shapes and sizes. Gags, bars to hold her legs open, cuffs that would suspend her from his wall or tie her down onto his bed. Soft cushions, bolsters for underneath her hips so he could hold her exactly where he wanted her. His favorite were the floggers, one in particular that was thick, sharp leather straps that left lovely little marks all over the skin. But she wasn’t ready for that one. Not yet.

Instead, he chose the one with the strips that had been softened into a buttery texture. They felt lovely to drag over his hands, and the soft scent of leather filled his lungs. The scent provided the slightest moment to settle himself.

He’d never hit her in anger. That he had promised himself years ago when he’d realized just how good it felt to leave a mark on his partner’s skin. He would never forget the red handprint that had started it all, or the claw marks above. Tiny pinpricks, not enough to bleed, but they were still there.

Proof that they were his. And Varya had said she was. She’d vowed that she was his and his alone.

He turned to her then, seeing the wariness in her eyes and how she watched him like he was the predator and she the prey. That was right, he supposed. He was going to devour her whole if she let him.

“What do you have there?” she asked, her voice low and calm.

“Need I remind you what you said?” He dragged the flogger over his palm again, letting the little strands play through his fingers. “I said tell me what you want. You said you wanted me. I asked you whose you were, and you said you were mine.”

The lovely line of her throat bobbed. “I did.”

“Were you lying, treasure?”

Again, a swallow. Perhaps more of a gulp. Her eyes flicked to the door. “I was not.”

“So you offered yourself to me for one night only? I told you, I don’t do that. Once you are mine, I keep you. Those are the rules, Varya. Rules that you have now ignored.”

“Rules I didn’t agree to. I will tell you again, Greed. I am my own person, and you cannot control where I go or what I do.”

She was right. He knew that. Even Gluttony could see that she was her own person and that he couldn’t just expect to order her around and have her follow every damn order.

But that feeling in his chest hadn’t gone away. The fear. The tension that, no matter how long she stood alive in front of him, wouldn’t go away. All he saw playing in his mind was her risking her life over and over again. Choosing to do so. Ignoring the fact that he’d be so messed up if she died and he wasn’t there to at least try to save her.

The tiniest amount of that fear slipped out. His voice hoarse, he met her gaze and said, “You risked everything.”

And though he didn’t want her pity right now, he could see the thoughts flicker behind her eyes. She understood what she’d done. That in risking her life, she hadn’t just threatened her own. She’d threatened him, because his damn heart existed inside hers now and he didn’t know how or when or why that had happened, but she was important.

More than anyone else had ever been. And that terrified him.

Her gaze flicked to the flogger in his hands, to his tail, to the set of his shoulders, before returning to look back into his eyes. “What do you want from me, Greed?”

“Everything.” He repeated the words as though it could explain what was happening in his chest. He knew it didn’t. She couldn’t read his mind, and even if she could, it would be nigh impossible to untangle the thoughts in his head.

“You’ve said that before.” She took a step closer to him, another, walking so close he could smell her scent that unraveled some of the fear. She was here. Right in front of him. He’d gotten there in time.

And then his hand tightened around the handle of the flogger again. Because he’d remembered that she’d been in danger. A-fucking-gain.

Her hand joined his, her long fingers still so small against his hand. And he couldn’t stand the sight of it because she’d almost...

“What do you need?” she asked, heat back in her voice that he’d thought he would never hear again. “Tell me.”

It was the question he’d asked her, in some form. She’d accepted this. Accepted him. Knew that he needed her to give him the only thing that would make him feel calm, to know that she was right fucking here and that no person or monster was taking her from him.

A shudder of pleasure traveled down his spine and he nodded at the chair he’d had custom-built in the corner. It was smoothly cut, cushioned, all comfort and swells that would present her body to him if he wished, and in any position he wished.

“There,” he grunted, waiting to see what she would do.

Her eyes skated over the cushioned chair and she seemed to know. As if she was in his head and knew what he needed. And that pressure in his chest that had been building since the moment they stepped into the tent, it got worse. He hadn’t thought it could.

But it felt like someone had taken hold of his throat. He couldn’t even swallow as she turned her back to him and made her way over to that chair. She stood in front of it, eyeing it for a few moments, before moving in front of the highest peak and then gracefully folded over it.

And oh, the sight she presented made him groan. Ass in the air, like a pretty upside down heart. He wanted to run his hands all over her, mark her as his, make it so no one would ever question who she belonged to, or who protected her.

He wanted the world to know that if they touched her, he would find them. He would kill them. And then he would hunt down their families and kill them, too.

Greed didn’t recognize this feral side of him, but he kind of liked it.

Striding behind her, he smoothed his palm down the globe of her ass, squeezing gently while he ran the flogger up her arched back. “Are you going to enjoy this treasure?”

“I don’t know.” Good, she didn’t sound afraid. Only curious.

He pushed her shirt up, revealing long lines of muscle on either side of her spine. The valley between those ridges would look so pretty with his cum running between them, and he intended to paint her long before he ever let her go.

“Ach, I think you will.” He leaned over her, blanketing her in his heat and strength as he whispered in her ear, “I want you wet for me, Varya. You will make a mess of yourself before I give you what you want.”

And there it was. That pretty little moan that came from the back of her throat. Exactly what he’d wanted.

He rocked against her, letting her feel how hard he was. Sliding his hand down her side, not touching anything that she would beg him to touch soon enough. And then slowly, ever so slowly, he pushed her pants to her thighs. Not taking them off. She hadn’t earned that yet. But she would. Soon enough.

Because for all the risks she took when she was in this room with him, she was his good girl.

Greed leaned back, staring at the slick, glistening core of her that was already as wet as he’d hoped. She flattered him, so ready when he had barely even touched her. But she remembered just as well as him how they fit together. How everything was better than it had ever been before.

Testing her, he flicked his wrist, and the flogger struck her with a little smack. Not hard, not even enough to leave a mark. Still, she arched into him so prettily with a little gasp.

“No more risking your life,” he snarled, another snap punctuating his words. A little harder this time. “Not without me. You hear me?”

“I hear you.”

Snap. Little red stinging lines appeared on her left cheek. Just seeing them settled something deep inside him. “You will not run from me again. No?”

“No,” she moaned, her hips already moving against his chair.

“No, what?”

Another snap of the flogger, another gasp that echoed out of her mouth and turned into a moan. “I won’t run from you any more.”

“No more lies.” Again he struck. “No more hiding from me.” Again.

She dripped down the inside of her thigh and he had to pause and just stare at her. This woman who met him no matter what he asked. He took, she gave, and then she took it all back from him. He... by the gods, he could love her. So easily.

But love was dangerous. Love made a man do foolish things, like drop to his knees and worship the goddess spread out in front of him when this was supposed to be about punishment. Not reward.

“Do you hear me, Varya?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “Or are all these answers just more pretty lies?”

“I’m not lying.”

He dropped the flogger to the floor with a hard thunk. He cut through the laces of his pants with a long claw, then lined himself up with her. Rubbing himself into her wetness, dragging the tip of his cock over her clit. Not hard enough to give her the pleasure she sought, just enough to tease and torment.

“I don’t believe you,” he snarled, leaning over her again. She could only see, feel, taste, and smell him. Only him. He was her world right now and she would never fucking forget that. “But soon enough it will be the truth. This isn’t pleasure, Varya. This is punishment. I won’t be sweet. I will be quick and hard and you will like it. Do you hear me?”

He sank into her, just like he’d said he would. A quick thrust, burying himself until their hips were pressed against each other. Core to core. And instead of the grunt he’d expected, or the little whine in the back of her throat that he’d heard before, she moaned as though he had given her everything she’d wanted.

And fuck, he felt the same. He was lost in her. Lost in knowing that he’d gotten her back, that she was alive, that she was well, that he had made it in time.

Greed pounded those emotions into her. His relief. His love.

Ach, even in this, it was only with love.

No claws scratched her skin. No part of her hurt more than she wanted because even as he had her bent over in front of him, he couldn’t be too rough. Not with her.

When he was close, he reached between them and pressed where she needed him. Circling and giving her the pressure she’d been seeking. Buried as deep as he could go, he came with her. Together.

Exactly where they were supposed to be.