“Shut up.”
Kaia laughs—that bright, surprised sound I’d kill to keep hearing—and reaches for me. “Get up here.”
I don’t need to be told twice.
The moss is soft under my palms as I pull myself up beside her. Cool against my heated skin. She immediately reaches for me, pulling me closer, and then we’re kissing again—desperate and messy and nothing like the careful kisses we’ve stolen before.
This is claiming. Finally.
I ease her back against the moss, my body covering hers, and the feeling of her bare skin against mine from chest to hip is so overwhelming I have to stop and justbreathe.
“You okay?” she asks softly.
“I’m great. I’m fantastic. I’m about to—” I swallow hard. “Kaia, I need you to know that I’ve wanted this for so long that I might actually embarrass myself.”
“Finn—”
“I’m serious. Like, mortifyingly fast. There’s a very real possibility here.”
She cups my face in both hands. Her violet eyes are soft. Steady. “I don’t care.”
“You say that now—”
“I mean it.” She pulls me down for another kiss. “I just want you. However long it takes. However it happens. I just wantyou.”
Something cracks open in my chest.
I’m going to tell her I love her. Right now. I can feel the words building in my throat—
Malrik’s hand settles on my lower back.
I’d almost forgotten he was there. Almost. But now I feel him behind me—still in the water, leaning against the ledge between my legs—and his touch is grounding. Present.
“Take your time,” he says quietly. Just for me. “She’s not going anywhere.”
I exhale shakily. Nod.
Kaia’s legs wrap around my hips, and the movement shifts me against her, and—
Oh fuck.
I’m right there. Pressed against her entrance. One movement away from being inside her.
“Yes?” I manage.
“Yes.” No hesitation. “Please, Finn.”
I push forward.
And the world narrows to the feeling of her around me.
Tight. Warm.Perfect.
I choke on a groan, my forehead dropping to her shoulder. “Holy—fucking—gods—”
She gasps beneath me, her nails digging into my shoulders. “Finn—”
“I know. I know. Just—give me a second—” I’m shaking. Actually shaking. Trying desperately to hold still, to not move, to not end this embarrassingly fast the way I warned her I might. “You feel—I can’t—”
