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I don’t want this to end yet.

I never want this to end.

I drag myself out of her slowly, until only my tip remains. The needy whimper that escapes her has pride blossoming deep in my core, behind my inner furnace, which is nearly overflowing with light and warmth and heat and power.

“I don’t think anyone in the history of this wretched world has ever loved another person as much as I do you.” I enunciate each word as I say them aloud.

Her mouth curves up into the most glorious smile, her emerald eyes glossy. “I can feel how much you mean it, so I won’t argue with you. Even if you’re technically wrong.”

At that, I pull out entirely, and she lets out the sweetest mewl of protest.

“Hey!”

I laugh and scoot back an inch, though my tip is still notched at her entrance, her legs clamped on either side of me. “You’re truly going to tell me I’m wrong right now?”

She’s still smiling, and I wish I could freeze this moment forever. “You are, but like I said, I wasn’t trying to argue.”

“And yet here we are.”

She releases a pleasured groan as I tip my hips forward and slide inside her once more—slowly. Just a bit at a time.

“Mmm, but aren’t you the least bit curious who I was talking about?” she says with a gasp.

“Oh, I know exactly who you mean.” I give a shallow thrust that has her bucking her hips to meet me.

And then her next words are uttered down the bond, because our lips are suddenly busy again. “Do tell.”

“Why, Thraigg and his undying adoration for our missing nocterrian friend, of course.”

And though it is somewhat lamentable that my comment has her breaking our kiss, pulling away to ram her forehead into my shoulder as she snort-laughs, I wish I could do it again and again and again. Because there is truly no better sound in all of existence than the evidence of her joy.

“You may just be right,” she says, tears of a different nature lining those jewel-toned eyes. “But I don’t think you’ll be surprised when I tell you that I would prefer not to talk about Thraigg and Nox or anyone else while you are currently sheathed inside me, Sir Knight.”

And then it’s my turn to laugh, at least until our expressions grow serious again, the room filling with nothing but our panting breaths and greedy moans and the sounds of our bodies coming together.

She pushes me back until I’m lying flat on the bed, her hips rolling against me. Hot tension coils at the base of my spine. Tighter and tighter it twists, pulses. Spots flash across my vision as my eyes flutter closed.

It is indescribable, really, the way I can feel her, can feel the exact way her pleasure climbs, can feel her heart beating in time with my own.

Some instinct calls my attention back to the beautiful mark on my solimaeus’s neck, and I watch with rapt fascination as the small wounds left from my bite seal up, her double-crescent scar glowing golden. From the way her eyes are locked on my own mark, I have no doubt it’s done the same.

I thrust my hips up, words falling with equal abandon from my lips with each exquisite slide in and out of her. “I love you.” Thrust. “So.” Thrust. “Fucking.” Thrust. “Much.”

She’s crying my name—a litany, a prayer—and I move the flat of my hand to her lower belly and press, feeling the edge of my cock moving deep inside her. And with that, we both come undone, chasing our shared pleasure off the side of a cliff, falling, falling, falling . . .

And landing together somewhere new. A place formed just for us, by us.

The ground rumbles, tiny vines breaking through the canvas floor of the tent as I spill inside her. Elyria’s voice rings in my head, caressing my mind, my soul, with those three beautiful words over and over and over.

And I’m not even thinking as I move her off me, withdrawing my cock and taking the smallest second to appreciate the glorious mess I have made of her. I flip us both onto our sides, fitting her perfectly into the curve of my body as I shift us farther up the bed.

Her wings fold down against her back, and I am mesmerized by the way they’re now laced with shadow and sunfyre, the astonishing proof of our combined power before my eyes. It only lasts a moment though, and then I am quick to bury myself inside her once more, some feral instinct urging me to push what had already started to leak out back in.

There’s no arguing with the deep satisfaction that brews behind my ribs at the thought of keeping me inside her. I want her smelling like me, want to make sure no other man or woman or nocterrian alive would ever—could ever—question who she belongs to.

She doesn’t seem to mind. She seems to relish it, in fact, releasing the most heart-wrenchingly contented sigh as soon as I’m buried back in her sweet wetness.

Instinct is once again guiding me as I dip my chin and press long, lingering kisses down her neck, her spine, into the space between her beautiful, glorious, revitalized wings.