The afternoon light filters through the thin curtain, painting everything in soft gold. I turn to face Falla and find him watching me with an intensity that makes heat pool low in my belly.
"I thought about this," I admit, my fingers finding the hem of my dress. "Every night you were gone. Remembered how good you made me feel. How safe."
"Ressa." My name sounds like prayer and curse combined. "You can't say things like that unless you want me to lose what's left of my control."
"Maybe I do." I pull the dress over my head, letting it pool at my feet. His eyes darken as they trace over my skin. "Maybe I want you to show me what I was too scared to admit I needed."
He crosses to me in two strides, his hands finding my waist. "Tell me if you need to stop. Promise me."
"I promise." I reach for his shirt, tugging it free. "But I won't need to. Not with you."
We undress each other slowly, carefully, like we're unwrapping something precious. When we're both bare, I let myself look at him properly. He's beautiful in a way that shouldn't work—green skin marked with old scars, lean muscle that speaks of strength and endurance rather than bulk. And his cock, already hard and impressive, makes something clench inside me.
I'd seen it before, during the festival night. Had marveled at the size of him, the way my body had somehow accommodated all of that. But looking at him now, fully hard and wanting me, makes my mouth go dry.
"You're staring," he says, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"You're huge." The words come out breathless. "I forgot how much."
"And last time?"
"Last time was perfect." I step closer, pressing my palm flat against his chest. His heart hammers beneath my touch. "This time will be better."
He guides me to the bed, laying me down with a gentleness that makes my eyes sting. The thin blanket bunches beneath me as he settles beside me, one hand tracing patterns on my stomach.
"I need you to understand something," he says, his blue-green eyes locked on mine. "I can wait. Can give you all the time you need. Can be your friend if that's all you want. But I can't lose you again, Ressa. Can't spend another four days thinking I ruined this."
The raw honesty in his voice cracks something open in my chest.
"I'll have bad days," I warn him. "Days where the memories are too strong and I panic for no reason. Days where I need space or silence or things I'm not even sure how to ask for."
"I know." His thumb brushes my lower lip. "And I'll be there for all of it. Good days, bad days, everything in between. Just don't shut me out again. Don't run from me."
"I won't." I cup his face, making sure he sees the truth in my eyes. "I want you there. Want you for all of it. Want you, period."
"Say it again."
"I love you." The words come easier this time. "I love you and I'm choosing to be brave enough to keep you."
He kisses me then, deep and thorough, and I lose myself in the taste and feel of him. His hands map my body like he's memorizing every curve, every sensitive spot that makes me gasp. When his fingers slide between my thighs, I'm already wet and ready.
"Please," I breathe against his mouth. "I need you."
He positions himself over me, his weight braced on his forearms as the head of his cock presses against my entrance. The stretch as he pushes inside makes me gasp—he's so big, thick enough that my body has to work to accommodate him. But the slight burn feels good, feels right, and I hook my legs around his hips to take him deeper.
"Fuck," he groans, his forehead dropping to rest against mine. "All I've been thinking about is how perfect you feel."
"Move." I clench around him deliberately, making him curse. "Need you to move."
He does, pulling nearly all the way out before sliding back in with agonizing slowness. Each thrust goes deeper than the last, his cock filling me so completely that I can feel every ridge and vein. My hands find his shoulders, nails digging into green skin as pleasure builds.
This is different than last time. The mechanics are the same—his body moving inside mine, the friction and fullness and heat. But the emotional weight has shifted. Last time was desperate and new and tinged with fear that I'd wake up and regret everything.
This time, I know exactly what I'm choosing. Know that when the sun rises tomorrow, I won't push him away. Won't let fear steal what we're building together.
"I love you," I gasp as he hits something deep inside that makes stars burst behind my eyelids. "Love you so much."
"Show me." He picks up the pace, his hips snapping harder. "Show me you're mine."
