“Then why can’t it be you?” she asked.
Silence.
The scales along his jaw glimmered faintly, catching the light as if they were part diamond, part heartbeat. He reached up, cupping her cheek with care. “Maybe it could,” he finally said.
Her smile widened, triumphant but sincere. “Good. Because I wasn’t kidding about the tail.”
He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Zara.”
“What,” she said, almost laughing. “I’m being honest.”
He shook his head, but there was amusement now, warmth softening his gaze. “I know,” he murmured. “That’s what terrifies me.”
She leaned in, brushing her lips against his cheek, light as a promise rather than a dare. “Then we’re even,” she whispered.
Because he terrified her too. Just not in a way she wanted to run from. She kissed him again. And she felt it instantly, how he released himself and met her with nothing but truth and hunger. Just him, present with her instead of protecting her from herself.
His hands slid to her waist and, with a single fluid motion, he lifted and repositioned her. Not rough, not hurried, just effortlessly sure. She landed astride him, breath catching. Evennow, even after everything, she couldn’t help being stunned by his strength. It wasn’t a force that threatened her. It was one she trusted.
He would be gentle. Healwayswould.
His mouth brushed her ear. “How are you able to do this to me?”
The words weren’t meant to be seductive, yet they undid her more than anything else had. Just the truth. She shivered, pulse jumping, excitement flooding through her so sharply it bordered on dizzy.
She cupped the back of his neck, lips trailing along the edge of his jaw. “Maybe,” she whispered, “you’re just not used to someone who wants you as much as you want them.”
His breath stuttered. Probably not because she was bold but because she was right. She felt the evidence of it in the way his grip tightened at her hips, in the slow exhale that escaped him like he’d forgotten how to hold it in.
He pulled back just enough to see her face, eyes molten and unguarded. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he said.
She smiled, a touch breathless, a touch victorious. “I think I do.”
He didn’t argue. Didn’t retreat behind logic or caution. When his lips pressed against hers, it wasn’t careful. It wasn’t restrained. It wasn’t an apology. It was want.
And Zara, feeling it all the way to her fingertips, melted into it, into him, shivering again, not from nerves or fear, but from the exhilarating certainty that he wanted her just as fiercely as she wanted him. And she didn’t have to ask again.
Not with words, not with clever teasing, not with the boldness she’d used before. The change in him was unmistakable now, solid and certain, a man who had stopped bracing and finally allowed himself to want.
And this was when she felt the difference between their ages. Not as a gap or as something uneven but as steadiness.
He moved with confidence, his touch and guiding hand were intentional and sure, not rushed or fumbling.
He was a storm contained and directed, focused entirely on her.
She wasn’t inexperienced, not really. But she had never beenhandledlike that before: not claimed, not centered, not treated like her pleasure wasn’t accidental but the point.
And gods, she wasswept away.
Her hands gripped his shoulders. Not to steady herself, but because she was afraid she might float right out of her body at the way he kissed her, slow then deep, his palm steady at her lower back, keeping her anchored.
He murmured something against her shoulder, low and reverent, and she felt heat curl through her so fast her breath hitched. She had never been so grateful to be out of her depth, to be held in the hands of someone who had lived longer, felt more, learned enough to be devastatingly intentional.
He pulled back just enough to see her face, thumb brushing her cheekbone, gaze warm and heavy on hers. “This feels right,” he said quietly.
They stayed like that for a while, kissing, whispering, touching without the urgency of the other time. It felt different now, deliberate and tender, like learning each other but in a room where there was no running, no pretending, no date to provoke jealousy, no spectacle to hide behind.
She shivered when his hands slid into her shorts, squeezing her butt.
