His eyes go wide as realization slams into both of us. We both whip our heads to the side, taking in the sight of our clothes—strewn about, as if they had never been on our bodies at all.
Silence stretches between us—stunned. Disbelieving.
“Amara.” Thane rasps it, caught between a groan and a laugh.
“I—” My mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. “I didn’t mean to.”
A beat.
Then Thane laughs. Low. Wicked. Delighted. His gaze rakes over me—every bare inch now completely exposed.
I stare at him, still processing. “I just—how?”
Thane laughs again, the sound rough with desire. “Let’s figure it out later.”
I barely have time to protest before his mouth is on my neck again, kissing, teasing, working his way down. I gasp, my head tilting back as his lips graze my collarbone.
Then, his mouth covers my breast.
A low sound escapes me, my body arching into him as he teases with his tongue, his teeth, his hands. My fingers tangle into his hair, gripping tight as a wave of pleasure coils through me.
And when I rock my hips against him—I feel it. He’s thick, perfect, and right where I need him—teasing me. Testing us both.
Thane groans against my skin. I clutch at his shoulders, my breath ragged, heart racing.
“Thane—gods, please. I need—”
I gasp.
“I need you.”
Thane growls, a deep, visceral sound that sends a shudder through me. His hand tightens on my hip, his other bracing beside my head, his breath hot against my skin. I feel the hard press of him against my entrance, making me squirm with anticipation.
His forehead rests against mine, our breath tangling. And in that single second—he waits.
Just to be sure. Just to be mine.
“Gods, you’re so wet,” he murmurs, reverent.
He shifts, then presses.
I gasp—my body stretching, taking him in, inch by inch. Mybreath catches—between delicious pain and need and—
Gods, yes.
Finally.
My fingers dig into his back as pleasure slams through me—raw, aching, hot enough to unravel my bones.
Thane lets out a shuddering breath, his jaw clenched, his grip tight. And nothing else exists.
Just heat. And him.
And I never want it to end.
Thane starts slow, his movements deliberate, like he’s savoring the feeling of finally being inside me.
But then, his pace shifts, his grip on my waist tightening. The rhythm turns punishing, and I welcome it.
