"Don't stop." Her legs tighten around my waist, pulling me deeper. "Please don't stop."
I push forward another inch. Then another. Slow and steady and so careful it's killing me. Her body stretches around me, taking me in, and she makes these small sounds that go straight to my cock.
When I'm finally seated fully inside her, we both go still.
She feels perfect. Like she was made for me. Like every part of her was designed to fit against every part of me and nothing else will ever compare to this.
"Move," she breathes. "Please, Lorenth, move."
I pull back slowly, watching where we're joined, and then thrust back in. Deep. Deliberate. Making sure she feels every inch of me.
She cries out, her nails digging into my shoulders, and I do it again. And again. Setting a rhythm that's slow but intense, each stroke deliberate and claiming and so fucking right I can barely think.
Her kisses turn frantic, desperate. She kisses like she's trying to crawl inside me, and I kiss her back with the same wild hunger. Our tongues tangle, our breath mingles, and the sounds we're making—gasps and groans and desperate pleas—fill the space between us.
I shift my angle and she keens, her whole body arching against mine.
"There?" I grind against that spot inside her, making her see stars. "That's it, Senna. Let me hear you."
"Oh gods." Her voice breaks. "Right there. Don't stop, please don't?—"
I don't stop. I fuck her exactly how she needs, hitting that perfect spot with every thrust, and her moans get louder. More desperate.
My magic surges again, wrapping around us both like a living thing. I can feel it trying to bond us, trying to forge something permanent between us, and I have to fight to keep it contained. To keep from marking her in ways she didn't ask for.
But fuck, it's hard. Especially when she looks at me like I'm everything. When she holds onto me like I'm the only thing keeping her grounded.
I memorize every detail. The way her eyes flutter closed when I thrust deep. The little hitch in her breath when I roll my hips just right. The flush spreading down her neck to her chest, making her skin glow in the lantern light.
She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
And she's mine.
The thought blazes through me, undeniable and absolute, and my next thrust is harder. Deeper. Claiming.
"Lorenth." My name is a prayer on her lips. "I'm—I can't?—"
"Let go." I press my forehead against hers, never breaking rhythm. "I've got you. Let go for me."
She shatters.
Her orgasm hits like a tidal wave, her whole body going rigid before trembling violently in my arms. She cries out, the sound raw and beautiful, and her inner walls clench around me so tight I see stars.
And then I feel it.
This tug. Deep inside me. Deeper than bone. Deeper than blood.
Something snaps into place between us, clicking like a lock finding its key, and my magic roars in triumph. It floods through me, through her, wrapping around the bond that just formed, though not entirely complete.
Holy fuck.
The soulbond. It's real. It's actually?—
Senna's still trembling in my arms, still coming down from her high, and I'm frozen. Caught between the overwhelming rightness of what just happened and the terrifying implications of it.
I can feel her. Not just physically, though that's there too—the slick heat of her still clenching around my cock, the racing of her pulse against my chest. But deeper. I can feel an echo of her emotions crashing into me. The pleasure still singing through her veins. The contentment settling warm in her chest. The hint of fear lurking beneath it all.
She feels me too. I know she does. I can see it in the way her eyes fly open, wide and shocked, and fix on mine.
