It’s not gradual. No warning this time, just a sudden weightlessness yanking me up off the floor, slamming my back into the far wall.
And then I’mflying.
Not graceful.
Not controlled.
Just an uncontrolled drift toward the upper paneling.
But I don’t get that far.
Becausehe catches me.
One arm loops around my waist. The other grabs the ceiling bar to anchor us both. His grip is firm—steady. Like catching me in midair is just something he does. Like my body fits into his by design.
My chest is pressed against his. My legs curl instinctively. His breath fans across my cheek. And suddenly the fire doesn’t feel like the most dangerous thing in the room.
My mouth goes dry.
“Got you,” he murmurs.
And somethingsnaps.
It’s not clean. Not polite. Not a gentle crumbling of restraint.
It’s a full collapse. A tidal wave. A shattering.
I grab his face andkiss him.
No hesitation.
No second thoughts.
Just need.
His mouth meets mine with that same fire—raw, consuming. His hands tighten on my hips, pulling me in until there’s no space left between us. The heat of him presses through every layer of fabric, every inch of gravity-defying closeness.
His tongue sweeps mine like he’s starved for it.
Maybe we both are.
Maybe this war has wrung us dry, and this moment is the only drop left in the glass.
He spins us gently, pinning my back to the wall, cradling me like I’m fragile and feral at the same time. Our legs tangle. His hands slide beneath my uniform, fingers rough from combat but moving with an intimacy that undoes me completely.
I gasp into his mouth.
And that’s all the permission he needs.
Wedevoureach other.
No slow build.
No soft prelude.
Just teeth and breath and whispered curses in two languages. He speaks Vakutan against my skin and I have no idea what he’s saying but Ifeelit—all heat and reverence and reckless surrender.
“I’m gonna burn for you,” he breathes, forehead to mine, “and I don’t care.”
