The world ceased to exist. There was only the heat of him, the taste of him, and the dizzying truth that I wanted this. I wantedhim.
Mav’s body pressed me gently onto the chaise, his weight braced on forearms. My fingers found the line of his jaw, then the corded muscle of his neck, then slid into his hair as he pressed kisses beneath my ear. His breath was ragged against my skin.
“Quinn,” he whispered.
The sound of my name from his lips lit something molten in me. I fumbled at the fastenings of his shirt, desperate to feel him without barrier. Garments fell away in a frantic cascade: my corset, his shirt, my petticoats. Each layer was a shedding of the fears and doubts we had carried into this moment.
When he peeled away the final layer, leaving me bare beneath his gaze, I stilled. The candlelight illuminated each trembling curve. His breath audibly caught. Heat flooded my face and throat, not from shame, but from the rawness of being so wholly seen. Mav knelt over me as thoughbefore an altar.
“You are so indescribably beautiful.” His hand waited at my thigh.“Are you sure?” His lips brushed my temple. “Tell me now, Quinn. I need to hear you say it.”
I gathered him into my arms, pulling him down until our chests met. My mouth found his ear. “Yes.”
That single word unraveled him. He kissed me with a hunger I had never experienced. Mav was tentative at first, then surer as he learned the landscape of my pleasure. The curve of my hips, the slope of my spine, the fragile skin of my inner thighs.
He kissed down the length of my throat. My skin felt too small to contain all that surged within me: heat, anticipation, an ache so sweet it bordered on pain. When his calloused fingers skimmed the side of my ribcage, my breath snagged. He hesitated, giving me space to retreat. I did not. Instead, I arched into his touch, a silent plea. His hand swept upward to cup the swell of my breast. His thumb brushed across the delicate peak, and the sensation was so sharp that a small, helpless sound escaped me. I moaned when his mouth closed over each one in turn, licking and lavishing.
“Saints,” he groaned against my skin, his voice breaking.
Everywhere he touched left a trail of heat—skin cool from the night air one heartbeat, searing the next. He drifted lower, kissing a path down my trembling stomach. My muscles fluttered beneath his mouth. I gasped his name, half-plea, half-warning, as he reached the place where I was most vulnerable. His hands gripped my thighs, spreading me gently, reverently.
The first stroke of his tongue sent me arching off the chaise with a strangled sound. My fingers tangled in his hair, desperate, anchoring myself as he explored me with unhurried skill. The sensations built and built. I gasped in pleasure as my whole world collapsed to the rhythm of his mouth, his hands, his worship.
When I shattered, it was with a cry so raw it startled even me.He held me through it, every desperate sound, until I slumped boneless against the fabric.
Before I could recover, he was moving back up my body. His mouth found mine in a kiss rough with need. When he finally slid into me, slow and deliberate, I cried out. The stretch was exquisite, overwhelming. My body curved around him instinctively. My legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, until we moved as one. Our pace quickened, urgent and wild. There was no line between pleasure and pain, no boundary between us at all.
“Mav…” I breathed, the sound catching in my chest. My fingers dug into his shoulders.
His forehead pressed to mine, his breath ragged. “Look at me,” he urged, voice breaking. “I need you to see how much you mean to me.”
I did. And in his eyes, I saw something vast and unguarded.
Our hips moved together, a slow, building tide. With each thrust, the tether flared brighter, binding us in ways my mind could not explain.
My name fell from his lips like a prayer, raw and reverent. I answered with his, exhaling it into the space between our mouths until it became the room’s only truth. The second climax was the collapsing of a star, an explosion of heat and light. My body tightened around him, my cry muffled against his skin. Mav groaned, clutching me, his own release following hard after mine.
We lay back in a breathless tangle of limbs, dazed by the wreckage of pleasure. Mav pulled me close, his arms a fortress around me. I rested my head on his chest as his fingers traced slow patterns along my spine.
For the first time in centuries, I let myself believe I was more than a curse. For this moment, I was his and he was mine.
He kissed the crown of my head and whispered, “We’ll leave tonight.”
My fingers curled against him. “Together?”
“Together.”
I had no memory of falling asleep. The hearth had guttered to a dull glow. Lifting my head, I read the mantle clock. It was well past midnight. Mav’s palm rested warm and steady over my stomach, anchored beneath the layers we had clumsily pulled back on. My thigh lay over his. Our fingers were laced together.
We had slept together.
A smile tugged, small and secret. The ache in my body was proof of our unity, an echo of what we had shared.
His nose brushed my hair. “You’re awake,” he murmured.
“Unless this is still a dream.”
“It’s not.” His lips found the curve of my shoulder. “But if it were, I’d never let you wake.”
