She gasped, her fingers clutching instinctively at his shirt, but she didn’t fight him. Didn’t speak. The tension between them was a live wire, sparking, too dangerous to touch with words. Instead, she buried her face against his chest, her breath warm, uneven.
He carried her through the house, his grip unyielding, his pace steady. Past the marble-floored entryway, past the city lights burning through the floor-to-ceiling windows, past every reason she had to doubt him. Straight to their bedroom.
He needed to feel her. To remind her. To remindhimself.
That they were more than this night. More than unspoken words and dangerous deals and trust fraying at the seams. That whatever space had wedged itself between them, it wasn’t enough to breakthem.
Not yet.
He set her down beside the bed, letting her slide along the length of him, and the instant her feet hit the floor, she was reaching for him. No words. No questions. Just desperate, aching, unspokenneed.
Her mouth crashed into his, hands fisting in his hair, and for the first time tonight, she let herself fall apart. The frustration, the anger, the overwhelming sense of betrayal—all of it poured into the kiss, raw and unfiltered. She wasn’t just reaching for him. She was trying tofindhim. The man she thought she knew. The man she had trusted.
Titus felt it. Felt the way her body pressed into his, the way her fingers dug into his scalp, not just with need but with desperation. It sent fire licking through his veins, but more than that, it sent something deep and aching through his chest. Because she didn’t want to just kiss him—she wanted him toprovesomething. To show her that whatever she believed, whatever doubts were spiraling through her mind, this wasreal.
So he gaveit toher.
He kissed her back fiercely, his grip unrelenting as he pulled her closer, as if he could press his truth into her skin. His hands spanned her back, one sliding into her hair, tilting her head just enough to deepen the kiss, to steal her breath. He wasn’t just taking—he wasclaiming, making sure she felt every ounce of what he couldn’tsay.
His constraint frayed at the edges, unraveling in the face of her fire. She was desperate, clawing at him, pulling him down into something raw and electric, something neither of them could name. And when she moaned against his lips, when her body arched into his, it wasn’t just passion—it was need. It was a plea. Ademand. Awar between fury and longing, between betrayal and trust.
She wasn’t just trying to bring him closer; she waschallenginghim, daring him to prove that what lay between them hadn’t been destroyed. That she wasn’t just another move on his board, another sacrifice made in the name of his endlessstrategy.
And the last threads of his restraint snapped.
He didn’t just catch her. Hepossessedher. Took everything she was willing to give, everything she wanted to take from him in return, and let her set the rhythm, let her claim him as much as he claimedher.
He didn’t just catch her. Heconsumedher. He pulled her under, into the firestorm of all they couldn’t say, into the clash of fury and longing that neither of them knew how to unravel. He met her desperation with his own, answering every silent question with the demand of his hands, the fierce, unyielding press of his body againsthers.
Hegavehimself to her—every raw, unfiltered piece, every unsaid truth, every part of him he had spent a lifetime guarding. And when she pulled him closer, when her breath hitched, when her nails raked over his back like she was trying to hold on to something slipping through her fingers, he surrendered tothe moment.
There was no plan here. No strategy. There was only the way she moved against him, the way her lips bruised against his, the way her body pressed into his like she wanted to break him just as much as he wanted to break her. And God, he let her. He let her burn through him, let her fury and longing consume every last piece of doubt betweenthem.
He answered her without words, without promises, without explanations. He answered her in the slow, deliberate way he kissed her, in the unrelenting way he touched her, in the way he claimed her as if this was the only proof of truth he could give her. And maybe it was.
Because right now, there was nothing else but the way she felt under him, the way she moaned into his mouth, the way she splintered apart in his arms and took him withher.
And in that moment, she was his again. If only for tonight.
She clawed at him, nails digging into his back, her breath coming in soft, uneven gasps betweentheir kisses. It wasn’t just passion. It was something deeper, something raw and unfiltered, as if she was trying to carve out the truth from him with touch alone. And maybe she was. Maybe she needed tofeelhim, to force him to give her something real in the only way she trustednow.
Titus knew he was losing himself, unraveling under the force of her, but he didn’t care. Hewantedto be lost in her, wanted to drown in the proof that she was his, that she hadn’t completely pulled away from him. So he let her take from him, let her own the moment as much as he did, their bodies tangling in an unspoken war neither of them wanted towin.
Because in this moment, there were no betrayals, no unanswered questions. There was only this. Only them. Fuck, he needed this. Needed her. Needed to anchor himself in the certainty of her body, the way she fit against him, the way she gasped his name like she wasn’t sure whether to hold on or let go. Because if he thought too long about the silence between them, about the fractures he had willingly created, he would lose himself insomething far darker than strategy. And that—losing her—wasn’t something he could afford.
Titus yanked her against him, deepening the kiss, pouring everything he couldn’t say into it. He needed her to understand. Needed her to feel the truth he couldn’t tellher.
That she was his.
That she had always beenhis.
He slid a hand along her back, pressing her closer, and she arched into him, her body molding to his like she was made for him. Like she always had been. Like she always wouldbe.
They fell into bed in a tangled rush of heat and urgency, their breaths mingling, their hands grasping. Clothes disappeared, tossed away without care, until there was nothing left between them but skin and fire and all the words they couldn’tsay.
He kissed her slow, deep, taking his time, even as his body screamed for more. Even as every muscle in him tightened with restraint. Because this wasn’t about dominance or proving anything.
It was about her.
