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“Knowing what I want isn’t easy when I’ve never been allowed to want anything before.” My hand slips between us and beneath his slacks. “But I need you, Kylian.” My fingers brush soft curls before finding his cock.

His hands come up, gripping my arms to stop me. “Alessia. Not like this. Not if this is saying goodbye.”

“That’s not . . . Please, Kye. I don’t want to say goodbye,” I choke, my voice breaking as tears spill down my cheeks.

He goes still beneath me, his gaze moving to my face.

I lean closer until our noses brush, my lips barely grazing his, and my voice drops to a whisper.

“I want to stay,” I murmur again before my lips brush against his gently.

For a second, he doesn’t respond.

But eventually, his hand comes up, tangling into my hair as he pulls me closer, and his mouth meets mine with a forceful, hungry kiss.

My fingers fumble, wanting to remove his shirt, wanting to feel his skin. His hand moves to my ass and squeezes.

I finally manage the buttons of his shirt, my fingers clumsy and impatient, and when my palms flatten against his bare chest, the bond flares between us.

“Little mage,” he growls, and hearing my nickname from his lips makes my stomach flutter.

I push the shirt from his shoulders, and he lets me, his hands sliding to my hips, gripping hard enough to claim what’s his, and the thought sends heat pooling low in my stomach. “Please don’t stop” I whisper against his jaw, my lips brushing the sharp line of it, and his breath changes.

His hands move to the hem of my nightgown, fingers curling into the fabric, and he pauses there, as if asking for permission.

I answer it by sitting up and pulling it over my head myself.

The air is cool against my heated skin for exactly one second before his hands find me. He sits up, leaning against the headboard. His eyes drop from my face, and I watch something shift in them as he palms my breast.

My hands tremble as they roam over his hard chest.

“I—I don’t know what I’m doing,” I whisper, my cheeks burning, my words barely more than a breath.

He reaches up and brushes my hair back, his fingers lingering at my jaw. “We don’t have to,” he murmurs, voice softer than I’ve ever heard it.

“I want to, I . . .” Some part of my mind is telling me he is rejecting me or doesn’t want me, and tears burn my eyes. “I . . .”

His hands cup my face, tilting it up toward him, and he sighs. “You want to,” he says quietly, his thumb brushing the corner of my eye before the tear can fall. “I can feel it.”

The bond. Of course he can feel it.

“If you can feel what I want, then why keep asking me?”

“Because you might change your mind,” he says.

I lean forward, my lips finding the line of his jaw, then the corner of his mouth, barely grazing. “Why do I need to decide forever? Why can’t it matter that this is what I want right at this moment? Why can’t that be enough?” I whisper against his lips.

The sound that escapes him is almost pained.

He rolls us until he’s braced above me, his weight carefully held, like he is making sure I feel him without being crushed by him. The bond flares hot, and I gasp softly at the rush of it, at the warmth that spreads through every part of me.

“Because one moment with you will never be enough, little mage.” He peers down at me, brushing his hand along my jaw.

“Please,” I breathe.

His eyes burn brighter, and his mouth moves to my throat. I tip my head back against the pillow, my fingers threading into his hair. His lips drag along the curve of my neck, and I feel the edge of his teeth, not breaking, just grazing, just enough to make every nerve ending in my body come alive with anticipation.

His mouth moves lower, and my breath catches as he nips and kisses my flesh, traveling down my body then settling between my thighs. His warm breath against my pussy makes my body arch for him. My fingers tighten in his hair as his mouth finds me, and the sound I make is embarrassingly broken and needy.