She swallowed. “Yes, Islept well.”
Titus smiled.
“Good,” he said smoothly. Then, as if it were the simplest thing in the world, he rolled, shifting her beneath him, his weight pressing her into the mattress.
Her breath hitched.
“Titus—”
“I’m not done with you yet,” he murmured, his voice dark and certain.
He dipped his head, brushing his lips against the curve of her shoulder. Jazz shivered beneath him, her pulse kicking against hislips.
Her hands pressed against his chest, not in resistance—just uncertainty. Her touch was hesitant, as if she were grounding herself, as if she needed a moment to process theintensity between them. Was she overwhelmed? Afraid? Or was she simply trying to catch up to the reality of what had just happened? He felt the tension in her fingers, the slight tremor in her breath, and knew she was teetering on the edge of something—something she wasn’t ready to name yet. She still didn’t fully understand.
But she would.
With patience, with time—she would learn.
She was his.
And he took care of what washis.
Titus wasn’t gentle, but he wasn’t rough either. He was patient, deliberate, attuned to every shift in her breath, every tremor of her body beneath his touch. He traced her curves with the confidence of a man who knew exactly what he was doing, who knew exactly how to unravel her. Every brush of his lips, every slide of his fingers, was a silent promise—one he intended tokeep.
He let his hands roam, exploring the softness of her curves, mapping the heat of her skin. Jazz gaspedas his mouth found her throat, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses down the delicate line of her pulse. He took his time, savoring the feel of her, the way she reacted to his touch, the way she clung tohim.
Her fingers gripped his shoulders, nails biting into his skin as he slid lower, his lips trailing across her collarbone. Ashiver ran through her, and he smiled against her skin. She was learning. Learning that she didn’t need to hold back. Learning that she could trust him to give her what she needed, what she hadn’t even known she wanted.
“Titus,” she breathed, her voice unsteady, full of something deeper than hesitation.
He lifted his head, his dark eyes meeting hers. “Yes, wife?”
Her lips parted, but whatever she was about to say was lost when he rolled his hips, pressing into her in a way that left no room for questions. She arched beneath him, her head falling back, and he took the opportunity to claim her mouth again, deepening the kiss until she wasbreathless.
She wasn’t holding back anymore. She was meeting him now, her body moving with his, her hands sliding over his back, pulling him closer. Her soft moans filled the space between them, each sound sending a surge of satisfaction throughhim.
This. This was what he wanted.
Her surrender. Not just her body, but the way she gave in to him, trusted him to lead, to take her exactly where she needed to go. She was made for this, made forhim.
And when she finally fragmented beneath him, when her body clenched around his, pulling him deeper into the heat of her, he followed, letting himself go, losing himself in her, knowing without a doubt—
She belonged to him.
And she knew it now,too.
For a long moment, neither of them moved. The air between them was thick with heat, their bodies tangled together, skin damp, breath uneven. Jazz lay beneath him, her fingers skating across his back, her nails leaving faintcrescents in his skin. He could feel her pulse fluttering against his lips as he pressed a slow kiss to the curve of her shoulder.
She was quiet, but not withdrawn. Not uncertain. Her body pulsated with the aftershocks of what they’d shared, and he could feel it—the slow, delicious unraveling, the way she sank deeper into the realization of what had just happened betweenthem.
His.
Titus shifted onto his side, gathering her against his chest, one arm wrapping securely around her waist. He didn’t speak. There was no need. He registered the moment her body softened into his, her cheek pressing lightly against his shoulder, her breath warm against his skin. He let himself enjoy it, this rare moment of stillness, of peace, of knowing she was exactly where she belonged.
But he also knew the moment wouldn’t last. Notyet.
She let out a slow breath, her fingers tracing lazy patterns over his chest. Titus watched her movements,his body unmoving, but his mind sharp. Was she thinking about last night? About what it meant? Each slow drag of her fingertip across his skin felt deliberate, like she was committing the shape of him to memory. Aquiet sort of intimacy, one he hadn’t expected but wasn’t about to stop. His chest tightened, warmth spreading through him as he let her linger, let her take what she needed from the moment. Because whatever she was searching for, she would find it withhim.
