Breathless, she breaks our kiss entirely and whispers, “If you’re not ready?—”
My mouth is on hers again, swallowing the words she doesn’t need to say. She wants to make sure I’m ready. My chest tightens at the thought—at how I managed to capture this brilliantly thoughtful and strong woman’s heart.
I reach for her hand, still lingering at the top of my trousers. My fingers curl around her wrist, and I tug her hand down to show her that it’s okay. ThatI’mokay.
Her other hand trails up my shoulder and moves around to the back of my head, cupping the base of my skull like I’m the most precious thing she’s ever held. I shiver beneath her touch, my abdomen flexing in anticipation.
When her fingers grasp my cock, a moan slips from my mouth, mingling with the sound of our lips meeting. She’s still hesitant—careful.
I don’t want careful—don’tneedcaution. Fuck caution.
If she’s still taking it slow for me, I just need to help her understand.
My hand wraps around hers, joining her as she moves her fist up and down my cock. She gasps against my lips, our fingers interlacing and pace quickening.
“I need you,” I rasp against her mouth.
“I’m yours,” she mumbles, our lips crashing against one another.
Her words break something in me, snapping what was left of my restraint.
“On the bed,” I growl.
She’s over there faster than I can get my clothes off, propped up on her elbows and lying before me as I rip my shirt and pants off.
I stalk toward her, my body humming with anticipation.
Her gaze slides over my body as I approach, and for a moment I worry she’s going to stop me. That she’s going to see the scars—new and old—and tell me she thinks I’m not ready.
When her eyes find mine again, there isn’t pity there. There’s nothing but pure hunger, the same need I feel burning a hole through my chest.
I reach the end of the bed and kneel over her, my body hovering just above hers. A stray strand of hair falls over her eyes, and I smooth it behind her ear. She smiles, soft and beautiful.
“With you, there is no pain,” I breathe, repeating the words I once said to her before she was mine.
She gasps, and I chase the sound, my mouth crashing against hers so I can taste that harmonious noise. Her legs wrap around my waist, her heels digging into my lower back to press me forward.
I laugh against her mouth and mutter, “Impatient.”
But I don’t move; I stay hovering above her and enjoy tasting her mouth against mine.
Lunaria huffs and replies, “Brat.”
I can’t help but smirk as I sink inside of her without warning, her answering moan like music to my ears.
My pace isn’t slow—and it certainly isn’t gentle.
I need her like she’s the lifeline that’s going to keep me alive, like she’s the only way I’ll be able to breathe each and every day.
She pulls me closer, her hands roaming the expanse of my back as her nails drag across my skin. I groan into her mouth, my hips snapping forward at a quick pace.
Every nerve in my body is on fire, begging for release. But I don’t slow—don’t stop—even as my magic bubbles to the surface and dances along my fingertips.
I lift to look at her, her eyes meeting mine in a half-lidded haze.
Lunaria gasps as the flame follows where my hand goes, dragging a trail of it across her collarbone.
“It doesn’t hurt,” she mumbles in awe, the glow of my fire reflecting in her eyes.
