"Where?"
He kisses me.
His teeth catch my bottom lip ever so lightly, but this time I welcome the sting because tomorrow it will remind me of him and everything he's giving back to me.
"Tristan." His name is the only word I can manage.
He reaches up and unhooks my wrists, catching me as my arms drop. Blood rushes back into my hands, tingling, and I tug at his clothes, desperate to feel his skin against mine.
"I need you," I whimper. "Please. I need you inside me."
He lifts me and carries me toward the stack of boxes covered with his jacket, laying me down carefully. He tears at a condom wrapper, then grips the back of my neck and pulls me against him as he positions himself at my entrance.
We're both breathless, eyes locked, as he begins sliding into me.
Inch by inch.
Letting me feel every part of him as he fills me completely.
It's nothing like before.
He moves inside me with long, deep, unhurried strokes,savoring all of it—his forehead pressed against mine, his breath mingling with my breath, his eyes never leaving my face.
"You feel…" He trails off, struggling. "I don't have words."
"Then don't talk." I wrap my legs around his waist, drawing him deeper.
We rock together in the flickering lantern light, surrounded by dust and cleaning supplies, and somehow it's the most sacred moment of my life.
Because it's not about the setting. It's about us—two people who found their way back to one another against impossible odds.
"I never stopped wanting you." The words fall between thrusts. "Not for a single day. I love you, Keira."
"I love you too, Tristan." Tears stream down my cheeks. "I always have."
"I love you," he whispers again, closing his eyes like he's praying.
The pressure builds gradually, a wave rising from somewhere deep, gathering strength with every stroke.
"Stay with me," he rasps.
"I'm here."
"Do you feel me? All the marks on your skin? All the ways I'm written into you now."
I feel them—every tender spot where his teeth left evidence, every hidden signature.
"You're mine, Keira. Not because I own you, but because you let me in when you could have kept everyone out forever."
"I'll always choose you," I gasp.
He's moving faster now, his control beginning to fray.
"Come with me." His hand slides between us, fingers finding my clit. "I want to feel you come on my cock, wearing my marks."
The wave crests.
I break apart with his name on my lips and his marks burning on my skin. He follows seconds later, burying himself deep and groaning against my throat, against the mark he left there, sealing it with his release.
