All of it disappeared under the heat of his kiss.
He started gently, like she might shatter if he wasn't cautious enough.
She didn't want gentle. She wanted proof that they were both alive.
She deepened the kiss, parting her lips, tasting him—water and something darker, something uniquely him that made her head spin. Her hands tangled in his wet hair, pulling him closer, demanding more.
His control slipped.
She felt it in the way his hands tightened on her waist, fingers digging into her hips hard enough to leave marks she'd welcome. The way his mouth claimed hers, harder, hungrier, all that restraint burning away like paper.
The bond between them flared.
Heat and want flooded through the connection until she couldn't tell where her desire ended and his began. Every sensation doubled, amplified, feeding back through their link until she was drowning init. Her need. His need. Theirs. One overwhelming force that made her dizzy.
She pressed against him, seeking more contact—skin to skin in the cooling water, nothing between them except want and desperation and relief so fierce it felt like pain.
His groan vibrated against her mouth. The sound went straight through her, made her body clench with need, made her ache for things they were both too weak for, but she wanted anyway.
Her hands moved down his chest. Hard muscle and smooth skin under her palms. Over the ridges of his stomach that flexed under her touch. Lower, following the line of dark hair that disappeared beneath the water.
He caught her wrists.
Broke the kiss.
Pulled back just enough that she could see his face. His pupils were dilated, eyes black with hunger that he was clearly fighting. His chest heaved, matching her own ragged breathing.
"Not tonight."
She blinked at him, dazed, her body still thrumming with unfulfilled want. "What?"
"Not tonight." His hold on her wrists was firm, grounding them both. His breathing still ragged, his whole body tense with the effort of pulling back.
"Why not?" The words came out sharper than she intended.
He didn't answer immediately. Just stared at her with want obvious in every line of his body, in the way his shadows writhed around them. But something else too. Something more vulnerable.
"Dante—"
"I just need—" He stopped. His jaw clenched. Started again. "Tonight I just need to hold you. That's all."
The rawness in his voice stopped her protests cold.
She looked at him. Really looked. The weariness carved into every line of his face. The way his hands trembled where they held her wrists. The shadows clinging to him weakly instead of with their usual strength. Two days of hell written in his eyes.
He wasn't saying no because he didn't want her. He was saying nobecause he needed something else more. Needed to hold her, feel her breathe, know she was alive without the complications of everything else.
She understood that. Had felt the same fatigue pulling at her, the way her body demanded rest even as it ached for him.
"Alright," she said softly.
His eyes widened slightly, like he'd expected a fight.
She cupped his face with one hand, feeling the scrape of stubble against her palm. "Today we rest."
The tension in his shoulders eased.
"Tomorrow—"
