She meets my eyes, and there's no fear in them now. Just warmth. Affection.Trust.
"I felt it too," she admits quietly. "I thought I was going crazy."
"Not crazy. Just fated."
We finish eating as the sun sets, painting the sky in shades of gold and rose. Senna leans back in her chair, wine-flushed and relaxed in a way I haven't seen her before. Happy.
This can work, I realize. This strange, impossible thing between us—it can actuallywork.
The bond thrums its agreement, settling deeper into my chest like it's been waiting for me to catch up.
I signal that we are done and stand, offering Senna my hand. "Come on. Let's go home."
She takes it without hesitation, rising gracefully in her new dress. "Home," she repeats, testing the word. "I like the sound of that."
So do I.
16
SENNA
Iwake to pleasure rolling through me in waves, disorienting and overwhelming andperfect.
My hands are already tangled in dark hair, fingers tightening reflexively as heat coils low in my belly. It takes my sleep-fogged brain a moment to catch up—to register the broad shoulders between my thighs, the clever mouth working against me, the large hands gripping my hips to hold me steady.
"Lorenth—" His name breaks on a moan.
He doesn't stop. Just hums against me, the vibration making my back arch off the mattress. The bond thrums in my chest, feeding his pleasure back to me in an endless loop—he's enjoying this as much as I am, relishing every sound I make, every tremor that runs through my body.
This is so different from mornings with Darian. Those were rushed, cold. I'd wake before dawn, slip out of bed before he could grab me, before he could demand something I didn't want to give. I learned to be silent. Invisible. To make myself small enough that he'd forget I existed.
But Lorenth—gods, Lorenth makes me want to beloud.
His tongue does something that short-circuits my brain and I cry out, my thighs trying to close around his head. He just spreads them wider, pinning them open with those powerful hands, and the dominance of it—the way he holds me exactly where he wants me—sends another wave of heat crashing through me.
"Let me hear you," he murmurs against my skin, his voice rough with desire. "Want to know how good I'm making you feel."
I couldn't stay quiet if I tried.
The pressure builds and builds, winding tighter until I'm shaking with it. My fingers tighten in his hair, tugging hard enough that it has to hurt, but he just groans like he likes it. Like every desperate sound I make, every helpless movement, is exactly what he wants.
"Please—" I don't even know what I'm begging for. More? Less? Everything?
He knows, though. Somehow he always knows.
He focuses his attention right where I need it most, tongue working in firm, steady strokes that push me right to the edge and hold me there. The bond pulses between us, our pleasure tangling together until I can't tell where mine ends and his begins. It's too much. Not enough.Perfect.
I shatter.
The orgasm crashes over me like a tidal wave, dragging me under and leaving me gasping. My whole body goes taut, then liquid, pleasure flooding every nerve until I'm nothing but sensation. Lorenth doesn't let up, working me through it until I'm trembling and oversensitive and pushing weakly at his shoulders.
Only then does he pull back.
He looks up at me from between my thighs, golden-ringed eyes dark with satisfaction, and grins. "Good morning."
I can't form words yet. Can barely breathe. Just stare at him with what I'm sure is a completely dazed expression while my heart hammers against my ribs.
He crawls up my body, all predatory grace, and captures my mouth in a kiss that tastes like me. "I was dying for a taste," he murmurs against my lips. "Woke up with you pressed against me and couldn't help myself."
