Chapter 21 Mind Games (His POV)
Annie was still asleep when I woke. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Because the first thing I did was stare at her like an absolute menace. Her hair was a dark, fiery, tangled mess over my chest, her cheek smooshed adorably against my skin, her lips parted in the faintest little sigh. Oh no, I have feelings. I didn't move. I didn't dare breathe. Instead, I studied her. Properly. Scientifically. Freckles.
Gods help me, she had freckles. Light ones. Barely there. A mortal constellation dusted across her cheekbones. Seven across her right cheekbone. Six on her nose. Eight on her left cheekbone. Twenty-one in total. My favorite was the tiny one just beside her nose that looked like a tiny dagger. A violent little speck, just like her. I touched it. Gently. Just to confirm it was real. (It was.)
Her eyelashes fluttered as she dreamed. Long. Thick. Ridiculously pretty. I counted those too.
Left eye: thirty-six. Right eye: thirty-eight.
Unbalanced. Criminal. I kissed the left one in apology. The imbalance remained. Her lips… gods. Soft, full, warm. The exact color of—
"Chaoseberry."
Yes. That was it. That perfect shade of sleepy, kiss-me-now pink. A color I decided belonged exclusively to her. I would trademark it later. Feel free to purchase my new beauty line based on the standard of this woman.
All the while she breathed slow, steady, against my chest, warm, trusting. She shifted again, her breath brushing my chest, and my heart stumbled like it tripped over itself. I snapped a cup of mocha-coffee into existence at the bedside. Not because I was leaving. She would have to pry me off her with a crowbar.
If I didn't keep my hands busy, they were going to start doing things that would wake her up in ways that would lead to more… well, Everything from last night.
"Stop being adorable," I whispered. "It's rude."
She didn't stop. Rude. I lay there for several quiet minutes, drinking her in, feeling something warm and soft unfurl in my chest that I absolutely did not have the emotional maturity to deal with. Then her lashes fluttered. She blinked awake and smiled. Sleepy, soft, half-warm smile, like she'd never in her life woken up next to someone who didn't demand something from her. Something in me cracked.
She opened her mouth, but before she could react, I kissed her. Long. Deep. Sweet enough to rot teeth. Gods, she melted against me like she'd been born to, warm, soft, trusting and I devoured it. Devoured her. My hands skimmed down her back, slow circles meant to soothe, to claim, to worship. She sighed into my mouth, and something embarrassing burst in my chest.
One smooth shift, I rolled her beneath me, bracing over her like I'd done it a thousand times. Her laugh brushed my lips, bright and perfect, and I kissed down her throat, her collarbone, lower, lower, I froze.
Not because she stopped me. Because her ribs were glowing. Glowing. Like a small sun had been shoved under her skin.
"Annie." My voice cracked. Actually cracked. Gods above, I was going to throw up.
She blinked. "What?"
My gaze was glued to her ribs, glowing, pulsing, alive. My mark burning there like a heartbeat made of gold. I reached out, barely brushing a fingertip along one of the swirling lines—
Something slammed into me. Not from outside. From her. Fear. Not hers-alone. Mine-but-not-mine. Shared. Blended. Like someone had hooked a wire into my chest and yanked. I jerked back so hard I nearly fell off the bed.
What in the hell! The thought sliced through me—
"I heard that!" she yelped, scrambling upright. "I just heard your thought!"
I went very, very still. Her eyes were huge. My eyes were probably worse.
"…You can hear me?" I thought, carefully, enunciating like I was yelling in a cave.
She nodded. "Yes."
YES.
"No-no-no-no-no—" My hands flew to my temples like I could shove her out physically. "My thoughts are NOT SAFE FOR THE GENERAL PUBLIC, ANNIE!"
Her mouth twitched. She was about to smile. At me. Horrifying.
"Can you hear… everything?" I asked, horrified, already preparing to move to Antarctica.
She tilted her head, concentrating. "No? Try thinking something else."
I tried. Nothing. Relief hit me so hard I almost collapsed, Then she grinned. "Try thinking at me again."
I narrowed my eyes. Suspicious. But I did it anyway. Annie, you are my favorite little mind-reading menace.
Her smirk dropped. "I heard that."
OH GODS. "Oh." I blinked. "Oh NO."
Her eyes widened. Mine widened. Hers widened more.(Why do I always lose the widening contest?)
"Wait, can you hear me when I think about—"
"Malvor," she warned. "Do not."
I grinned. Oh, this was going to be FUN.
Something else shifted. Like the bond flexed. Like it inhaled. A sweep of emotion rolled through me, warm, teasing, bright. Not mine. Hers. I sucked in a sharp breath. "You… feel this?"
Her eyes softened. "You can feel me?"
Oh gods. OH GODS. "Oh, this is, this is BAD," I muttered, dragging both hands through my hair. "This is a PROBLEM."
"A problem?" she scoffed.
I pointed at my own frantic chest. "Annie. I have a LOT of feelings. I did NOT want you IN my feelings!"
She tried, TRIED, to hide a smile. I flopped dramatically onto my back. "Arbor!" I hollered at the ceiling. "SHUT THIS OFF. I hate it here!"
The lights flickered an unhelpful laugh. "SEE?" I shouted. "Even the house doesn't know what to do!"
Annie sat up, clutching the sheets, staring at me like she wasn't sure whether to comfort me or throw me off the bed. Her thoughts were spinning like a cyclone, panicked, analyzing, racing. I HEARD THEM. I FELT THEM. "You overthink like a professional."
She glared. "Stay out of my head."
"You stay out of mine!"
"You first!"
"No, YOU first!" The bond crackled. We both froze.
"You're panicking," she whispered.
"I AM NOT," I snapped, absolutely, undeniably panicking. "ANNIE! STOP HAVING PRIVATE THOUGHTS AT ME!"
She covered her mouth, laughing until tears formed. For half a second, I forgot to be horrified. Her mood shifted. Sudden. Sharp. A storm rolling in over the sea. Predatory. Oh no.
"Oh yes," I breathed, feeling her thought before she even finished forming it. My stomach dropped. She was going to destroy me.
"Annie, my sweet, my dearest," I purred, leaning close, "you have given me the BEST gift of all."
"If you use it against me—"
"Oh, I WILL." I dragged my lips along her ear. "Guess what color I'm thinking."
"Malvor... stop."
"Never. Guess."
"Green."
I gasped, delighted. "CORRECT! This is AMAZING—"
"I'm not playing."
"Oh, but you ARE." I twirled, practically drunk on chaos. "Now. What's my favorite wine?"
Something overly dramatic, named after a murdered emperor, she thought at me.
I slapped a hand over my chest. "ANNIE. You know me so WELL."
She stared at me. Deadpan. "I felt the satisfaction in your brain."
"Oh?" My grin sharpened. "Then what am I feeling right now?"
Smug. So smug. Smugger than any creature has a right to be.
"You're being an ass," she muttered.
"Ah, but is that an emotion or merely my natural state?"
She glared. "I hate you."
"You love me."
"I loathe you."
"Which," I murmured smugly, "felt VERY SIMILAR coming through the bond."
Her glare faltered. Oh. OH. She was slipping. Walls cracking. I could FEEL it. A flicker. Soft. Warm. Something tender under her annoyance.
"What is that?" she demanded, eyes narrowing.
"Nothing." My grin twitched. Not at all convincing.
Her gaze sharpened. "Malvor."
"That is an invasion of PRIVACY!" I barked, scooting back like she had a weapon.
"Oh? Only fun when YOU do it?" she shot back.
I pouted. Gorgeous, tragic, regal. "I LIKED it better when I was the ONLY one with this power."
She waited. Silent. Smirking. Gods help me. "Fine," I spat. "I like you."
"I KNOW that, you idiot."
"No-no..." I waved aggressively. "I LIKE you."
She raised a brow. I groaned. "Are you HEARING me?"
"I'm FEELING you, actually." Her smug pleasure hit me through the bond like a hammer.
I almost died. "THIS," I snapped, pointing at her, "is WHY I didn't want you in my feelings!"
She tilted her head, predatory. "What feelings, Malvor?"
"Annie. Don't."
"Don't what?" That slow smile. That dangerous glint. "Don't say that I make you feel things you don't WANT to?"
I made a sound that should NEVER escape a god's throat. But she felt it. Of course she did.
"Oh, this is FUN," she murmured.
"I hate you," I choked.
"No, you don't," she whispered back.
And damn her, damn the bond, damn ME. She was right. We tested it, this new link. Pressing. Nudging. Thoughts only landing when we aimed them. Feelings slipping through on their own. Big emotions unavoidable. Touch magnifying everything. No secrets. No lies. No walls. Just us.
"Hot mess," she muttered. My smirk hit her through the bond like warm static. She shivered. I nearly preened. Gods help me. I almost liked it. The bastard in me absolutely did.
The bond still thrummed between us, low and steady, curling through the air like a living thing. I didn't wait. I didn't let her drift. I reached again, not with hands, but with the bond itself. Dragging her deeper into me. Into something she had never been allowed to want before. Addictive. Dangerous. My new favorite thing. She sighed softly, curling into my side without hesitation. Not trained. Not practiced. Just her. Real. My grin curved slow as I stared at the ceiling, fingers tracing lazy circles down her spine, testing the bond like a new toy, stretching it, pulling until it thrummed taut. My hand slipped lower, grazing her hipbone. The ripple that slammed into me was sharp, startled. Hers. I froze, savoring it, then grinned.
Well, well, well. Perfectly amusing. Another stroke, slower this time, along the outside of her thigh. Another jolt. Lightning in my blood. Not just touch, not just sensation. Her reaction. Honest. Raw. She couldn't fake with me anymore. I could taste the truth of her on my tongue like wine. I dragged my hand higher, teasing the inside of her thigh, stopping just shy of where she was already wet. The bond flared hot, vulnerable. My grin sharpened.
"You're terrible at hiding from me now," I murmured.
She stirred, blinking blearily up at me, her voice rough with sleep. "Hiding what?"
Instead of answering, I let my fingertips skim her ribs again. There, another involuntary shiver, the kind she hadn't meant to give. The bond sang with it, golden and sharp. I caught her chin, tilted her face to mine. "No more pretending, darling. I can feel you now."
Her eyes narrowed. "You've always been able to feel me."
"Not like this."
I brushed my mouth against hers, feather-light. "Not every gasp you try to swallow." A kiss below her jaw. "Not every shiver you try to hide." My lips trailed fire down her throat. "And not every time," I whispered, letting my hand slide deliberately between her thighs, pressing just enough for her to jolt, "you want to beg me for more but you're too proud to say it."
Her breath caught, sharp, and the bond flared raw, electric, undeniable. I laughed softly against her skin. "Oh yes. We're going to have so much fun with this."
Rolling her onto her back with a growl, I hovered above her, her hair spilling wild across the pillow, lips parted, chest rising fast. Gods, she was beautiful like this, unprepared, undone. Mine.
"Game on," I purred. Before she could rebuild even a fragment of her walls, I slid down her body, mouth catching every inch. Slow. Teasing. Methodical. Learning her like scripture. Writing my name into every shiver, every gasp. I braced on my elbows, pressing just enough weight to remind her she wasn't escaping. Her breath hitched, the bond sparking with every drag of my lips. Delicious.
"You're thinking too much," I murmured, trailing a finger down her throat, across her collarbone, then lower, circling her nipple until it pebbled under my touch. The bond thrummed sharp, pleasure, pride, defiance, want, all tangled. Messy. Beautiful.
"Stop that," she muttered, trying to glare, though her body betrayed her with a small arch beneath my hand.
I chuckled, pressing a kiss between her breasts. "I haven't even started yet, darling."
She opened her mouth, probably to argue, but it broke into a gasp when I pinched lightly, rolling the hardened peak between my fingers, then closed my mouth around it, sucking deep, slow, until her back arched. The bond snapped like a live wire between us.
"There," I purred against her skin. "That's what I want."
Her eyes squeezed shut, trying to gather composure. "Want what?" she managed, her voice shaking.
"You," I rasped, grinding my hips against her, letting her feel how hard I was. The head of my cock pressed against her slick heat, just enough for her breath to falter. My gaze raked her like she was the only truth worth memorizing. "The real you."
I kissed her again, deep, demanding, and pulled back just enough to whisper against her mouth, "One thing before we go further. Colors, darling. Red means stop, yellow means slow, green means go. Say it, think it, hell, just feel it through the bond and I'll know. You hear me?"
Her lips trembled against mine. "Green."
My smile curved wicked and reverent all at once. "Good girl."
I rocked my clothed hips against hers, slow enough to torture, hard enough to make her eyes flutter shut. The bond flared wild, pleasure, want, frustration, pouring straight into me until I was drunk on it. Addictive. More addictive than any power I'd ever wielded. Every flicker. Every gasp. Every broken sound she didn't mean to make. It was lightning in my veins, and I would never let it go. I kissed her shoulder, teeth grazing lightly, my voice a rumble against her damp skin. "Here's how the game works, darling." Another kiss, lower, tongue circling the curve of her collarbone. With a snap my own clothes were gone.
"You don't have to perform." My mouth slid lower, closing hot around the soft swell of her breast. Her nipple hardened instantly, pebbled against my tongue, and her back arched. The bond snapped with her real gasp, and I groaned into her flesh. "You don't have to impress me."
I ground against her, cock pressing against the slick heat between her thighs. She bit her lip, trying to smother the sound, but the jolt that ripped through her body slammed straight into me. "All you have to do," I whispered, dragging my teeth down the center of her chest, "is feel."
My mouth traced lower, over her ribs, nipping hard enough to leave marks. She gasped, raw and sharp, and the bond lit up like fire. "Fuck," I muttered, biting again, soothed with my tongue. "You're going to destroy me, aren't you?"
Her laugh came out broken, half-whimper, half-daring. Still clinging to the training that told her to hide. I grinned, savage. Good. I loved a challenge. I mapped her body with my mouth, my hands, sometimes soft, sometimes rough, sometimes nothing but a whisper of touch until she writhed, begging silently. And every honest reaction cracked through me like thunder. Every false one? Flat. Empty. I denied them. Ignored them. Punished her silence with nothing at all, until she finally broke, trembling, giving me something real. When I finally dragged my tongue along the inside of her thigh, slow and deliberate, she bucked, a startled cry ripping out of her before she could choke it back. The surge that slammed through the bond nearly dropped me. I groaned against her skin, gripping her thighs tighter.
"That's it," I murmured, dragging my mouth higher, closer. She was slick, swollen, her scent dizzying. "That's you."
I didn't give her what she expected. Not yet. I kissed everywhere else, thighs, hips, the hollow of her pelvis. Until she was trembling, hips rolling, chasing me. Every sound she made, every pulse of need, sparked through the bond and fed me like fire. When I finally licked her, flat and slow, her body bowed clean off the bed, a strangled moan tearing out of her throat. Gods, she was soaked. Sweet. Addictive. Her taste hit my tongue like sin, and I devoured her. Licking deep, sucking her clit, teasing with teeth until she shattered against my mouth. Her climax slammed through me like lightning, raw and violent, dragging me under with her until I forgot how to breathe. The bond roared, flooding me with every quake of her body, every sob of pleasure ripped from her chest.
By the time I crawled back up, she was wrecked. Flushed, wide-eyed, lips swollen. Glorious. I cupped her cheek, thumb brushing across her mouth, savoring the way she trembled. "Game's not over yet," I whispered, pressing a kiss to her damp forehead. "Not even close."
She lay boneless, chest heaving, thighs still twitching. And beneath all of it, I felt something new curling through the bond. Green. Raw. Untouched in the ways that mattered. Not her body. Her soul. No one had ever bothered to learn it. They'd used her. Expected her. Trained her. But this… this was mine. The thought twisted hot in my gut. Not rage. Not pity. Possession. Mine. I kissed the corner of her mouth, soft, then let my hand trail down her throat. Goosebumps shivered in their wake, the bond sparking sharp and sweet. She wasn't thinking now. Wasn't performing. She was feeling. And I wanted more.
"Look at you," I murmured, almost to myself.
She frowned, instincts bristling, walls trying to reform. I felt it. No. Not today. I rolled her onto her stomach before she could stop me. She gasped, one hand jerking defensive, but I caught her wrist, pinning it above her head, gentle, unyielding.
"Shhh, love," I said, velvet over steel. "Don't think. Just feel."
I pressed against her back, cock sliding between her slick thighs, kissing the nape of her neck while she arched into me, a broken sound spilling free. There. Another crack. My grin curved wicked against her skin as I kissed my way down her spine, deliberate, claiming. My hands mapped her hips, the trembling inside her thighs. Every honest whimper seared me alive. She whimpered, caught between wanting more and fearing how fast I was unraveling her. I grazed my teeth against her shoulder, just a hint of bite, and she broke. A sob, raw and desperate, ripped through her. The bond detonated, pleasure, fear, need, hope. All tangled in one wild surge that nearly tore me apart.
I swore softly, pulling back enough to see her face. Tears streaked her cheeks, silent, unwanted. She hated herself for them. I felt it. But gods, she was beautiful. More beautiful than anything I had ever wanted. I brushed my knuckles down her cheek, gentle where I could have been cruel.
"You don't have to be perfect," I whispered. "Not for me."
The bond hummed hot, dizzy, stunned. She blinked, cracked wide open, trying to rebuild her walls. I smiled, softer this time, and kissed her. Not hungry. Not teasing. Just a kiss. A promise. I see you. I'm not leaving.
I didn't rush. I let her breathe, let her melt against me, let the bond simmer low and hot, crackling beneath her skin like it was waiting for me to strike. She thought it was over. Thought she was finished. Thought she'd been unraveled enough. Poor, sweet Annie. She had no idea. I rolled her onto her back again, stretching above her like a lazy predator. Not pinning. Not forcing. Just there. Unmovable. Inevitable. She blinked up at me, dazed and fragile, green little shoots trembling just beneath the surface. I smiled slow. Dangerous.
"You're not done, darling," I murmured, dragging a finger down her sternum, watching goosebumps rise in its wake. "Not even close."
The bond flared at my touch, sharp and electric. She whimpered, small and unwilling. Perfect. I lowered my mouth to her ear. "This time," I whispered, my breath hot against her skin, "you don't get to finish until I say so." A tremor through the bond, green. "Good girl," I murmured, and the thread sang.
Her whole body tensed, pride, instinct, training screaming against what she wanted. I felt every flicker of it. Delicious. I kissed the corner of her mouth, slow and coaxing, while my hand drifted lower. Over her ribs. Down her stomach. Pausing just above the delicate heat between her thighs. Teasing. Withholding. She squirmed, breath catching, and I grinned against her skin.
"Feel it," I ordered softly. "All of it. Don't hide from me."
My fingers brushed her clit, barely there, a ghost of pressure, a promise. Her hips bucked instinctively, chasing it. So I pulled away. Chuckling low against her throat. "Uh-uh, Not yet."
She groaned, desperate and broken, and the bond sang with it. Raw. Honest. Hers. I sat back on my heels, dragged her hips into my lap with casual dominance, spreading her across me. Her slick heat pressed against my cock, soaking me until I was ruined for anything but her. My hands stroked her trembling thighs, coaxing, claiming, keeping her right on the edge. Every time she climbed close, every time she started to quake, I denied her. Pulled back. Left her empty. Light touches. Soft kisses. A whispered good girl against her skin. Never enough. The bond snapped tighter and tighter, tension stretching hot, sharp, unbearable. She panted, helpless, nails clawing furrows into the sheets. Her body was begging, writhing, her wetness dripping down her thighs, smearing onto me. Gods, I could smell her need, taste it in the air, thick and intoxicating. If she broke, I'd stop. But she didn't. She held on, for me.
I laughed softly. Wicked. Adoring. "You're so close," I whispered, kissing her trembling knee. "Going to be so pretty when you break."
She tried to glare at me. It was pathetic. Adorable. I kissed her hipbone. The crease of her thigh. Soft. Soft. Soft. Then, hard. I bit down on the inside of her thigh, sucking until she jolted, until her cry split the air. The pleasure and pain slammed into me through the bond. I groaned against her skin, grinding into the sheets for relief. She sobbed my name, desperate, high, broken. I pulled back again, lips glistening, smirk wicked.
"No," I said sweetly. "Not yet."
Her eyes glossed with tears. Not fear. Not pain. Need. Pure, blistering need. Gods, I loved her for it. I bent low, kissed higher and higher, savoring her trembling. Her thighs clenched around my head, trapping me, and I licked a slow stripe up her slick folds without mercy. She convulsed, a helpless whimper tearing from her throat.
"You want to cum so badly," I whispered against her, my tongue flicking her clit just once before pulling away. She sobbed. I kissed the slick heat of her again, gentle, reverent. "You feel like you're going to break."
Another kiss, higher, open-mouthed, filthy. "You can't hold it anymore, can you?"
She shook her head, tiny and broken, a tear sliding down her temple. I groaned, kissed the tear reverently, then sank two fingers inside her. Her heat gripped me instantly, wet and tight, clenching as if her body didn't want to let me go.
"One more time," I ordered, voice ruined. "Hold it. For me." She whimpered, but nodded. Desperate to obey. I curled my fingers just right, stroking her inside walls until she was trembling, my palm pressing mercilessly against her clit. She arched off the bed, a scream tearing from her throat, raw and feral, nails raking bloody lines across my shoulders. The bond roared, flooding me with every pulse, every quake, every shattered nerve.
"Now," I growled into her mouth, swallowing her cries. "Cum for me, Annie."
She did. She shattered, violently, utterly, her climax detonating through her body, through the bond, through me so brutal it ripped the breath from my chest. I felt every spasm, every convulsion of her body milking my fingers, every broken sob in my mouth. I held her through it, anchored her, whispered worship against her skin until she collapsed, limp and wrecked in my arms. She had bloomed for me. Beautiful. Wild. Mine. The gods help anyone who tried to chain her again. Because in that moment, something inside me broke too.
Her climax tore through more than her body, it ripped through her walls, through the training, through the lies. What came out was raw truth. Surrender. Trust. Want. It stripped me bare. I growled low, flipped her onto my lap before I could think, clutching her like I'd never get enough. She gasped, still wrecked, but the bond flared bright, greedy, hungry. More. It screamed between us. More. Now.
I didn't tease. Didn't play. I drove into her in one desperate thrust, burying myself to the hilt. We both cried out. Her body clamped down around me, scorching, perfect, and my own shudder slammed back into her through the bond. She could feel my pleasure, the raw shock of how tight, how wet, how perfect she was around me. I could feel hers, her body stretching, yielding, taking all of me. It looped endlessly, her pleasure feeding mine, mine crashing back into her. Faster. Harder. Hotter. I buried my face against her throat, panting, thrusting into her like I needed her to live. Because I did. She clung to me, nails raking down my back, anchoring me while drowning in me. Our bond blazed golden, holy, unrelenting. Every groan, every cry, every ragged thrust tangled us tighter until there was nothing left but one truth. No walls. No pretending. Just us.
She rode me back, hips meeting mine with every ounce of strength she had left. Her nails scored red streaks down my shoulders, medals of survival. I bit down on her shoulder, hard enough to mark, to claim, and the bond ripped wide open. Her climax hit like fire through dry tinder, violent and consuming, dragging me down with her until I shattered inside her. But it wasn't enough. Couldn't be. I drove into her harder, faster, chasing the next high, dragging her with me. The loop of sensation was endless, destructive, exquisite. She broke again. And again. And again. Pleasure blurred into pain. Pain blurred into hunger. Hunger blurred into something I didn't dare name, something bigger, deeper, unstoppable.
When we finally collapsed, bodies trembling, lungs burning, neither of us could move. I pulled her against me anyway, cradling her, rocking her faintly, pressing soft kisses into her hair. Sweat slicked our skin, the sheets damp beneath us. My chest heaved, but I held her like she was the only thing keeping me alive.
The bond purred between us, molten, sated, wrecked. She clung to me, twitching with aftershocks, shuddering in the aftermath. I closed my eyes, inhaling her. Her scent. Her taste. Her truth. I didn't need to speak. The bond spoke for me: Mine. Yours. Ours. Forever.
Silence stretched thick between us. Not heavy. Not anymore. She studied me, looking for the trick, the lie, the hidden edge. But there was nothing left to hide. Not after what we'd just survived. At last, she sighed, soft and tired, and rested her head back on my chest. I kissed her hair, pulled her closer.
"Rest," I murmured. "I'm not going anywhere."
The bond pulsed steady, warm and golden, wrapping around us like a second heartbeat. I could tell, I believed it. So did she.
I shifted, slow and careful, tugging the sheets up around us, cocooning her in warmth. Her skin was damp, slick with sweat and release, and I smoothed my hand down her back, chasing away the shivers. She made a small sound when I kissed her temple, more vulnerable than anything else she'd given me tonight.
"Shhh, love," I whispered, brushing her hair from her face. "You did beautifully."
Her eyes fluttered shut, but the bond whispered back for her, sated, heavy, safe. I reached for the basin Arbor set glowing at the bedside, conjured cloth warm as summer air. Gently, reverently, I cleaned the sweat and stickiness from her thighs, my touch unhurried. She stirred once, trying to murmur protest, but I caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm.
"Let me," I said softly. "You gave me everything. Let me take care of you now."
She didn't argue again. She let me. That, more than any climax, undid me.
When she was tucked against me again, clean, warm, utterly spent, I threaded my fingers through hers and rested them over my heart. The bond thrummed, calm now, a golden hum of belonging. Her breathing slowed, matched mine, until sleep claimed her. I lay awake, holding her, knowing the chaos had burned itself into something terrifyingly simple: I would never let her go.