It's not gentle or tentative or careful. She kisses me like she's been holding back for days and finally broke through whatever walls were keeping her restrained. Her mouth opens under mine, hungry and demanding, and I respond without thinking—one hand sliding into her hair while the other presses against the small of her back, pulling her flush against me.
Desire ignites like dry kindling catching flame. I'm exhausted and soaked and my magic feels like scraped bone, but none of that matters because Keira is kissing me like she means it, like she wants this, like she's chosen?—
Every rational thought tries to surface—that she's upset, that this might be fear and relief rather than genuine desire, that I should give her time to process before we cross this line.
But then her legs wrap around my waist when I lift her, her arms circle my neck, and she's kissing me again with such fierce intention that all my noble restraint disintegrates.
I carry her to the bedroom I claimed earlier, kicking the door mostly closed behind us. The room is small and simple, dominated by a bed large enough for two and little else. My magic flares automatically, lighting candles scattered around the space with violet-tinged flames that cast everything in warm shadow.
I sit on the edge of the bed with Keira straddling my lap, her weight settling against me in a way that makes heat spike through my exhausted body. My hands find her waist, gripping through the fabric of her tunic, and I force myself to pull back from the kiss long enough to actually look at her.
"Are you okay?" The question feels inadequate but necessary. This is so different than the last week has been. "Keira, what?—"
"I've been stupid." She cups my face between her hands, holding my gaze with an intensity that steals my breath. "So incredibly stupid. I wasted time being afraid when I should have been?—"
Her voice breaks and she takes a shaky breath before continuing.
"I thought I might lose you tonight. I watched that tree fall and realized you were out there in the storm and I couldn't doanything but wait and hope and pray you'd come back." Her thumbs stroke across my cheekbones, the touch achingly tender. "And all I could think was that I'd wasted every moment we could have had together because I was too scared to admit what I wanted."
"What do you want?" My voice comes out barely above a whisper.
"You." The word is simple, absolute. "I want you. I don't care that you hold my contract or that you're a dark elf or any of the things I told myself mattered. I would do anything you asked of me—not because I'm owned but because I care about you. Because I trust you. Because I'm tired of holding back when all I want is to let myself have this. Have you."
I must be hallucinating. Exhaustion and magic depletion creating some elaborate fantasy where Keira is telling me everything I've wanted to hear for months. Because this can't be real. Can't be her sitting in my lap with her heart in her eyes, saying she wants me, trusts me, chooses me?—
She kisses me again and the fantasy theory collapses because nothing my imagination could conjure would feel this good. This right. Her mouth against mine, her body pressed close, her hands sliding from my face to my shoulders to the soaked fabric of my shirt.
"You're freezing." She pulls at the wet material. "And wearing half the storm. We need to get you out of these clothes."
I help her tug the shirt over my head, dropping it somewhere on the floor with a wet thud. Her hands immediately find my bare chest, fingers tracing over skin and muscle with an appreciation that makes my breath catch.
"Keira—" I try to slow this down, to make sure she's actually sure, but she's already working at the fastenings of my trousers. "Starlight, we should—maybe we should take a moment?—"
"We've been taking moments for months." She meets my gaze, her hazel eyes fierce with determination. "I'm done going slow. I'm done being careful. I want this. Want you. Please, Valas."
The please breaks me. I capture her mouth again, kissing her with all the desperate longing I've been restraining since that afternoon in my room when I first tasted her. My hands find the hem of her tunic and she lifts her arms, letting me pull it off and drop it beside my discarded shirt.
She's beautiful. I knew this already—have spent months cataloging every detail of her face, her body, the way she moves—but seeing her like this, bare from the waist up with candlelight painting her umber skin in warm gold, steals every coherent thought from my head.
"You're staring." Her voice carries a hint of self-consciousness.
"You're stunning." I lean forward to press kisses along her collarbone, up her throat, finding the sensitive spot below her ear that makes her shiver. "I could stare at you for the rest of my life and it wouldn't be long enough."
She laughs, breathless and pleased, her hands sliding into my hair. "Smooth."
"I'm serious." I pull back to meet her gaze, needing her to understand. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. And I don't just mean your body, though you are stunning." I brush a hand along her jaw. "But you. Your strength and your courage and the way you love Amisra like she's your own. The way you've survived everything this world has thrown at you and still managed to be kind. You're extraordinary."
Tears gleam in her eyes but she's smiling as she kisses me again, slower this time. Sweeter. Her hands move down my chest to finish what she started with my trousers, and this time I don'tstop her. Just lift my hips to help her push the wet fabric down and away, leaving me bare beneath her.
She stands long enough to strip off her own trousers, and then she's back in my lap—skin against skin, nothing between us anymore. I groan at the contact, my hands gripping her hips as she settles her weight against me.
"I need you to know something." I force the words out even though my body is screaming at me to just take what she's offering, to stop talking and start moving. "I don't care what any contract says. What the law says. You own me, Keira. Not the other way around. You've owned me since the moment I met you and you looked at me with that assessing gaze and I hoped to every one of the Thirteen I measured up."
She makes a sound that's half laugh, half sob, pressing her forehead against mine. "Valas?—"
"I mean it." I cup her face with one hand while the other stays on her hip, thumb stroking across her skin. "My heart is yours. My loyalty, my protection, everything I am. You don't belong to me. I belong to you."
"Then take me." She rocks against me, the movement sending pleasure sparking up my spine. "Show me I'm yours the way you're mine."
