She swallows hard, and when she speaks, her voice breaks. “I love you too. God, Kieran?—”
I kiss the rest of the words away because if she keeps talking, I’m going to lose it completely.
I walk her back without breaking the kiss. Guide rather than push. When the backs of her knees hit the edge of the bed, she makes a soft sound, and my mouth curves against hers.
I break the kiss just long enough to lift her dress up over her head, careful with it. The fabric slides away, and suddenly there’s nothing between us but skin and breath and the way she’s watching me, like she wants to be seen.
I take a second. Let myself look.
Her fingers go to the front of my jeans, clumsy with urgency. She barely gets the button undone before I still them with my own.
“Wait,” I say gently.
She looks up at me, breath coming fast.
I finish unbuttoning my shirt, let it fall. Undo my jeans. Her eyes track every movement, dark and wanting.
When I’m down to nothing, I reach for her, unhooking her bra with steady fingers, sliding her underwear down slowly.
“Lie down,” I murmur.
She does.
I follow her down, settling my weight between her knees, and the contact—skin to skin, nothing between us—nearly undoes me.
I kiss her again, slower this time, letting the heat build without rushing where it’s going. My hands know her. Every dip, every curve, every place that makes her breath catch. I learned this body in darkness and restraint, and now I get to relearn it in freedom.
My palm closes around her breast, thumb grazing her nipple, and she arches into me with a sound that goes straight through my chest.
“I’ve got you.” I say her name over and over, punctuating each word with kisses—her mouth, her throat, her collarbone, her shoulder. She says mine back like a prayer.
I reach for protection, fingers steadier than I expected. She watches me, eyes dark and certain.
When I settle back between her thighs, I pause and just look at her. Memorize this—her hair spread across white sheets, her skin flushed, the way she’s watching me like I’m everything she wants.
When I finally sink into her, we both go still. Her breath catches. Her fingers tighten on my shoulders, her tears flowing freely now, and I lick them up, burying deep sounds into her skin. In and out, and it’s so easy, so right. No more hovering at the edge of things, no more testing.
“Okay?” I murmur against her temple, giving her time to adjust, to feel me.
“More than okay.” Her voice breaks on the words. “Move. Please.”
I do. Slowly at first, learning her rhythm all over again, watching her face for every reaction. This isn’t the controlled distance of the Delta. This is us, finally, with no walls between us. I kiss her until the last trace of distance disappears.
She arches into me, taking me deeper, and a sound tears from my throat. “Wren?—”
“Kieran,” she gasps, her hands gripping my shoulders. I follow the lines I already know—hips, waist, the familiar curve of her body—relearning her through touch instead of memory. “Never let me go.”
“Never,” I promise, slowing down, because if I don’t, it will be over, and I don’t want that. We kiss, soft and open mouthed, then start again. My hips rock into her. We laugh, breathless, make it last as long as we can. We find our rhythm together, building slowly, deliberately. Her legs shift, wrapping around my hips, pulling me deeper still. We move together until I lose track of where I end and she begins—one breath, one heartbeat, one person.
“Look at me,” I say roughly.
She does. Holds my gaze as I change my angle, as her breathing goes ragged and her body starts to tighten around me.
“Kieran, I’m?—”
“I’ve got you,” I promise again. “Let go.”
She does, coming apart with my name on her lips, her body pulsing around me. I follow her over, burying my face in her neck, her name a prayer against her skin as I find my release with her.
