I do.
I fuck her like I’m trying to burn away every doubt either of us ever had.
She claws my shoulders, bites my throat, whimpers my name like it’s the only one she knows.
And when we come—together—it’s not clean.
It’s not quiet.
It’s war and worship and something that leaves me panting over her, forehead pressed to hers, heart thundering like a predator’s drumbeat.
She cups my jaw, thumb brushing the edge of my mouth.
“You okay?” she asks, softly.
I nod. “Yeah.”
She tilts her head. “You’re not gonna get all weird on me, are you?”
“Too late.”
She snorts. “Fine. But if you write me poetry, I’m out.”
“I don’t do poetry.”
“Good.”
We breathe.
The ship hums.
And deep in my chest, thejalshagarbond flickers—dim but present, like a pilot light I didn’t mean to ignite.
I ignore it.
For now.
Because whatever this is—it’s real.
And that means it’s dangerous.
So I take her lips again, and she melts into me.
CHAPTER 14
ROXY
His mouth is fire and intention, and I meet it like I’ve been waiting years to burn.
There’s no finesse—no delicate unraveling. It’s heat and friction and hands that grip like the truth’s finally out and we don’t have to lie to our bodies anymore. He tastes like adrenaline and stubbornness, like every argument we haven’t had yet, and I kiss him back like I’m trying to win.
His skin is hotter than I expect, slick with heat, muscles like coiled wire and scars that map stories I’ll never get to hear unless I earn them.
“Still time to run,” he growls into my throat.
I drag my nails down his back and hiss, “Shut up.”
The moment snaps like a livewire.
