"We got lucky."
"We got more than lucky. We gotgood." I cupped his face, traced the line of his jaw with my thumb. "You were incredible out there. Leading those men, making impossible decisions, keeping everyone alive."
"I had help."
"You had a team. That you built. That trusts you enough to follow you into war." I leaned closer. "That's not luck, Axel. That's who you are."
His eyes searched mine, looking for something. Whatever he found made his expression soften. "I spent a long time thinking I wasn't worth anything except violence," he said. "That the only thing I was good for was hurting people. Then you came along, and you saw something else. You made me believe I could be something else."
"You always were. You just needed someone to remind you."
"That's what you keep saying."
"Because it’s true." I echoed Maria's words from earlier, and his mouth curved into a smile.
"Come here," he murmured, and pulled me onto his lap.
I went willingly, straddling his thighs, arms looping around his neck. His hands settled on my hips, warm even through the fabric of my jeans.
"I want you," I said. "But different this time. Slow. I want to feel everything."
"Yeah." His voice had dropped, rough and low. "Yeah, I want that too."
"Give me ten minutes." I slipped out of bed, pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I want to be ready for you.Reallyready."
His eyes darkened with understanding. "Take your time."
I did. When I came back, clean and prepared, he was waiting exactly where I'd left him—watching me cross the room like I was something precious.
We undressed each other piece by piece. No urgency. No desperation. Just the slow revelation of skin, the quiet intimacy of hands learning familiar territory. I traced the scars on hischest—the bullet wound on his shoulder, the knife scar on his ribs, the small nicks and scratches that mapped a life of violence.
"Every one of these," I murmured, pressing a kiss to the oldest scar, "is a time you survived."
"Some of them are times I almost didn't."
"But you did." Another kiss, lower. "You survived. You're here. With me."
"With you." His hands tangled in my hair, tilting my head up. "Everything that came before—it led to this. I'd go through all of it again if it meant ending up here."
"You don't have to." I kissed his chest, his collarbone, the hollow of his throat. "The hard part's over. Now we just get to live."
"Is it that simple?"
"No." I pulled back, met his eyes. "But we do it anyway."
He reversed our positions in one smooth motion, laying me back against the pillows, covering my body with his. The weight of him was perfect—grounding, protective, overwhelming in the best way.
"I want to take my time with you," he said, mouth trailing down my neck. "I want to touch every part of you. I want to make you feel so good you forget everything else."
"Then do it."
His mouth moved down my body with agonizing slowness—kissing, licking, biting gently. He spent long minutes on my nipples, learning what made me gasp. Longer on my abs, my hips, the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. By the time he finally took my cock in his mouth, I was trembling, every nerve ending on fire.
"Axel—" His name came out broken. "Please?—"
"Not yet." He pulled off, pressed a kiss to my hip. "Not until I've had all of you."
He flipped me over, and I went boneless against the mattress. His mouth traced down my spine, vertebra by vertebra, until he reached the curve of my ass. Then lower.
