Harder.
My tears mix with the sweat dripping onto his chest.
"Don't you fucking dare," I say, my voice breaking. "Don't you dare lock on me. Don't you dare leave me like this."
"Tamsin—" His voice is strained. Desperate. "Stop. You are burning yourself."
I look down at my hands. The skin is already reddening from the heat, the volcanic oil scalding against my palms.
I don't care.
"I'm not stopping," I say. "Not until you're free."
"Your hands—"
"I don't care about my hands," I snap. "I care about you. I care about keeping you alive."
I shift my weight again, repositioning my knees for better leverage. My thighs press against his sides, my hips grinding down slightly as I drive my full body weight into his shoulders.
The friction generates heat.
Intense, searing heat.
I can feel it radiating up through my palms, through my forearms, through my entire body.
"Come on," I whisper. "Come on, Cyprian. Come back to me."
"I am trying," he grinds out. His jaw is locked so tight I can barely understand him. "The stone—it is too deep. Too fast."
"No," I say. "No, you don't get to give up. Not now. Not when I just—"
I stop myself. But he hears it anyway.
"When you just what?" His amber veins flicker weakly. "Tamsin. Tell me."
I press my forehead against his chest, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
"When I just realized I'm completely in love with you," I say. "So you don't get to lock. You don't get to leave me. You don't get to—"
I press harder.
Harder.
My hands are screaming. My forearms are burning. But I don't stop.
"Please," I whisper. "Please, Cyprian. Please come back."
His heart hammers beneath my hands.
Erratic.
Desperate.
Alive.
I press harder.
I lean forward further, pressing my entire torso against his chest. My bare skin makes contact with the volcanic oil, the heat searing against my stomach and breasts.
