"—nothing that tells me what's happening to me or why I can do things no one else can—"
"Lumi."
"—and I'm supposed to just accept that? Just walk around not knowing what I am?"
"Come here."
The command cut through my spiral.
Neal had pushed back from his desk. His eyes were dark. Focused. Intent in a way that made my breath catch.
"Come here," he said again. Softer.
I stood. Walked around the desk on legs that felt unsteady.
He reached for me. His hands found my hips, pulled me forward, guided me down. I straddled his lap without thinking, knees bracketing his thighs, hands landing on his shoulders to steady myself.
"You're spiraling," he murmured.
"I know."
"Let me help."
His mouth found mine.
The kiss started gentle. Patient. His lips moved against mine with the quiet confidence that was so essentially Neal. He let things build, let the heat gather until it was ready to catch fire.
I was already burning.
I deepened the kiss. Poured my frustration into it, all the confusion and fear I couldn't name. My fingers slid into his hair and gripped. He groaned against my mouth.
"Lumi." My name came out ragged.
"Don't stop."
He didn't.
His hands traveled up my sides, palms hot through my shirt. One pressed flat against my lower back, holding me against him. The other cupped the back of my neck, angling my head so he could kiss me deeper.
I felt him harden beneath me.
Thick. Insistent. Pressing against my center through too many layers of fabric.
I gasped. Rocked my hips instinctively.
"Fuck." Neal's composure cracked. His hips thrust up, grinding his length against me, and the pressure hit exactly where I needed it.
"Again," I breathed.
He thrust again. Harder. His hands gripped my hips, rocking me against him, setting a rhythm that made my thoughts scatter.The seam of my jeans dragged against my clit with every roll of his hips.
"That's it." His mouth found my throat. Teeth grazed my pulse. "Let go. I've got you."
I couldn't think. Could only hold on as he moved beneath me, his hard cock dragging against my center, the friction maddening through our clothes. Not enough. Too much. Both at once.
"Neal—"
"I know." His voice was wrecked. Strained. "I can feel it through the bond. Feel how close you are."
