No words. It doesn’t feel right to speak—like I’d be breaking some quiet promise between us. What this is. What this means.
I thought it would be like the first time. Like when he surprised me with a picnic at the lagoon. Frenzied. Desperate. All pent-up need and barely restrained hunger.
Fucking.
But this . . . this is different.
Slow. Careful. Deliberate.
And not just because of my injury. What I started between us this morning, Thane has shifted into something else entirely. Something softer. Deeper. Not just desire—but devotion.
And by the gods, I am utterly lost to it.
He doesn’t suck or bite. Doesn’t pull. Doesn’t pinch. He licks—slowly. Grazes his teeth, just enough to tease.
His hand doesn’t grip or claim. It caresses. Cups. Traces.Learning me. Worshiping me.
Then, he moves again, shifting us, guiding me down with careful hands. His touch is steady as he gently lays me onto my back, mindful, protecting me even now.
But there’s nothing hesitant in his gaze. There’s only Thane.
He stills, leans his forehead to mine and whispers: “Tell me if it hurts.”
It doesn’t—not even close. So I offer a small smile to let him know I’m okay.
“You don’t know what you do to me,” he breathes.
He settles between my legs and I feel his arousal press against my thighs. A calloused hand glides down my side, steady and careful. His eyes burn into mine, something raw, something unspoken passing between us.
Then he guides himself to my entrance and pushes inside. I gasp, my fingers gripping his shoulders, holding onto him as he fills me.
He moves inch by inch, watching me, reading me, making sure I can take all of him. It’s gentle, careful. His forehead drops to mine again, his breath warm against my lips, his arms bracing around me as he moves, slow and unhurried.
I ignore the dull ache at my side and wrap my legs around him, pulling him deeper, drowning in the way he feels inside me. With a slow, aching rhythm, his hips roll into mine, making me feel every inch of him. Making me tremble beneath him.
A shiver runs down my spine, the pleasure building, curling inside me like fire and silk.
“Thane . . . ”
His name falls from my lips—breathless.
He moves like he has all the time in the world. Like he wants to give me everything.
And gods, I take it all.
Thane keeps his pace slow, each thrust measured—being socareful with me. But it’s his eyes—locked onto mine—that hold me.
There’s something there, raw and consuming. Like he’s giving me more than just his body—and doesn’t know how to say it.
But I don’t have the words to ask. Not now. I’m too lost in the moment, caught in the way his body moves with mine.
I’m floating. No—soaring. I relish the way he makes me feel. Lifted by him. Anchored in him. Completely undone and more whole than I’ve ever been.
His rhythm doesn’t falter, but I see it—a flicker across his face, something breaking inside him. His breath catches, his fingers tightening against my skin for just a moment. Something in him is unraveling. Not from lust. It feels like more, but I don’t know what.
Then, he thrusts deeper.
I cry out, my head tilting back, pleasure pulsing through me like wildfire. He finds a spot deep inside me that shatters thought—sends sparks rushing through my veins, unraveling me from the inside out.
