I rose over her, positioning myself between her thighs. She reached down and guided me to her entrance, her eyes locked on mine.
"I've got you," I said.
And then I pushed inside.
Chapter 26 - Keira
The feeling of him inside me was overwhelming.
Not just physically—though that was intense enough, the fullness, the stretch, the way my body opened to accommodate him—but emotionally. After everything that had happened, after the fear and the violence and the moments when I'd been certain I would never see him again, this felt like coming home.
He moved slowly at first. Long, deep strokes that drew gasps from my throat and made my fingers dig into his shoulders. His eyes never left mine—dark, intense, searching my face for every reaction.
"Okay?" he murmured.
"More than okay."
He smiled—a real smile, soft and unguarded—and lowered his mouth to mine. The kiss was gentle, at odds with the rhythm building between us. Tender in a way that made my chest ache.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he groaned against my lips. The sound sent heat spiraling through my core, and I arched up to meet him, matching his rhythm with my own.
"Keira." My name on his lips like a prayer. "God, Keira."
"I'm here." I cupped his face in my hands, forcing him to look at me. "I'm right here."
Something shifted in his expression. The controlled intensity giving way to something rawer, more vulnerable. He pressed his forehead against mine, his breath ragged, his hips moving faster now.
"I thought I'd lost you." The words came out broken, torn from somewhere deep inside him. "When I got that call—when they told me they'd taken you—"
"You didn't lose me."
"I could have. If I'd been slower, if I'd made one wrong choice—"
"You didn't." I kissed him, soft and sure. "You found me. You came for me. You kept your promise."
He made a sound that was almost a sob, and then he was kissing me back with a desperation that stole my breath. His hips drove into mine, harder now, faster, chasing something that was equal parts pleasure and release.
I felt my own climax building—a slow wave gathering force, fed by every stroke, every kiss, every whispered word. My nails raked down his back, and he hissed against my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin below my ear.
"Come with me," he said. "I want to feel you."
"Yes—God, yes—"
The wave crested. I cried out as the orgasm tore through me, my inner walls clenching around him, my whole body shuddering with the force of it. He followed a moment later, his rhythm stuttering, his voice breaking on my name as he spilled himself inside me.
We lay there in the aftermath, tangled together, neither of us willing to move. His weight pressed me into the mattress, grounding me, anchoring me to the moment. I could feel his heart hammering against my chest, gradually slowing to match the rhythm of my own.
"Stay inside me," I whispered. "Just for a little longer."
He pressed a kiss to my temple. "As long as you want."
Eventually, we shifted.
He rolled onto his side, pulling me with him, keeping us connected. One arm wrapped around my waist, the other pillowing my head. I nestled against him, my face pressed to his chest, breathing in the scent of sweat and sex and something that was uniquely him.
"I meant what I said." His voice was low, rough with exhaustion. "When I thought I'd lost you—it was the worst moment of my life. Worse than anything that came before."
"Worse than losing Mikhail?"
