"You were never just a job." He leans down, his lips brushing mine as he speaks. "From the moment you looked at me like I was part of the problem, I knew you were going to be the solution to every question I didn't know I was asking."
I kiss him.
Not desperate like this morning. Not urgent like our first time. This kiss is slow. Deliberate. The kiss of two people who have time and intention and a future stretching out before them.
Ford walks me backward toward the narrow bed, his hands working the buttons of my shirt while mine tug at his. We undress each other in the dim light, revealing skin and scars and the evidence of lives lived hard.
When I'm bare beneath him, he pauses. Looks down at me with an expression that makes my chest tight.
"I love you." His voice is rough. "I should have said it back this morning. Should have said it first. But I was so damn grateful you came back to me that I forgot everything else."
"Say it now."
"I love you, Sera Mancini." He lowers himself over me, his weight settling against my body in all the right places. "I love your sharp tongue and your brave heart and the way you refuse to be defined by your last name. I love that you push back when you disagree and trust me when it matters. I love you."
"Then show me."
He does.
His mouth traces a path down my body, lips and tongue and the scrape of beard against sensitive skin. He takes his time with my breasts, sucking each nipple until I'm arching off the bed, then continues lower. My belly. My hips. The crease of my thighs.
When his tongue finally finds my clit, I cry out. He doesn't ease up. His mouth works me with expert precision while his fingers slide inside, crooking to find the spot that makes me see stars.
"Ford." His name tears out of me. "Please."
He doesn't answer with words. He adds another finger, stretching me, and sucks my clit harder. The orgasm builds like a wave, cresting and crashing over me in pulses of pure sensation.
Before the aftershocks fade, he's kneeling between my thighs, rolling on a condom with hands that shake slightly. The sight of his control fraying makes me even wetter.
He pushes inside in one long stroke.
We both groan at the sensation. He's so deep, filling me completely, his hips pressed flush against mine. For a moment he holds still, letting me adjust. Letting us both feel the connection that goes beyond physical.
Then he starts to move.
The rhythm is different from our first time. Deeper. More deliberate. Every thrust hits exactly where I need it, his pelvis grinding against my clit with each stroke. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him even closer.
"Harder." The demand comes out breathless. "I need?—"
He understands. His pace increases, his hips snapping against mine with force that makes the bed creak and my body sing. I grip his shoulders hard enough to leave marks, pulling him down for a kiss that's all teeth and tongue and desperate need.
"Touch yourself." His voice is gravel. "I want to feel you come around my cock."
My hand slides between our bodies, fingers finding my clit. The combination of his thrusts and my touch pushes me toward the edge faster than I expect.
"I'm close." The words are barely audible. "So close."
"Let go." He pounds into me harder, chasing his own release. "Come for me, Sera."
The orgasm rips through me with a force that steals my breath. My pussy clamps down on him, pulsing, and I feel him follow a moment later. His whole body goes rigid as he spills inside me, my name on his lips like a prayer.
We collapse together, sweat-slicked and gasping, tangled in each other's arms.
"Stay with me." Ford's voice is muffled against my hair. "Not just tonight. Not just until your father's people come. Stay with me."
"In Tidehaven?"
"Anywhere." He lifts his head, meets my eyes. "Here, Boston, the moon. I don't care where we are as long as we're together."
