Their lips met in a kiss that was part vow, part plea—slow and deep and searching, as if they were trying to memorize each other from the inside out. Cade’s hands framed her face, then slid into her curls, cupping the back of her head as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping into her mouth with a growl that made her toes curl.
“I need you,” he murmured, his voice thick, gravelly. “Need to feel you under me. Around me. Mine.”
Lyra’s breath caught. “I’m yours,” she whispered, because it was true—not because of the bond, or the magic, or the prophecy that had tangled their lives, but because her heart had decided it before her mind had even caught up.
Cade groaned like the words shattered something inside him. His mouth found the curve of her neck, kissing and nipping his way down as his hands slid beneath her shirt. The warmth of his touch made her shiver.
"You smell like lightning and sage," he growled against her skin, dragging her shirt over her head. “Like home.”
He dropped it to the floor and stepped back just enough to look at her. The lust in his gaze was thick, palpable, almost feral. But behind it was something softer. Worshipful.
“You’re the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”
He cupped her breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples until they peaked under his touch. Lyra arched, gasping as her magic pulsed outward in golden waves.
“Your power is all around me,” he said, voice low and reverent. “It’s like your body sings for me.”
“It’s because of you,” she breathed, pulling his shirt up and over his head. “You make me feel safe. Seen. Desired.”
Cade kissed her again, harder now, all teeth and tongue and coiled hunger. He walked her backward until her knees hit the bed, then eased her down onto the mattress, following her with his body. The old four-poster creaked slightly beneath their weight, the wood fragrant with lavender and memory.
He took his time undressing her, peeling away her leggings and panties with deliberate care, as if each inch of revealed skin deserved a prayer. Lyra trembled under the attention, her thighs already slick with arousal, her breath coming fast.
Cade settled between her legs, pressing a kiss to her hip, then to her lower belly. “Open for me, sweetheart.”
She did—spread wide, shameless, aching. The second his mouth met her pussy, she cried out, fingers tangling in the sheets.
“Oh gods—Cade?—”
He groaned like her taste was his salvation. His tongue flicked over her clit, then flattened, then circled with maddening precision. He licked her like he knew exactly what she needed—alternating soft swipes with firmer pressure, coaxing her open, urging her higher.
“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping,” he said against her, voice hoarse. “You taste like magic.”
Her hips bucked when he slipped two fingers inside her, curling just right. The stretch made her moan, but it was the way he looked up at her while his mouth worshipped her thatunraveled her completely—eyes green fire, lips slick with her arousal.
“Please,” she gasped. “I need?—”
“I know what you need.” He thrust his fingers deeper, scissoring them slowly, his tongue relentless. “You’re going to come for me like this first. I want to feel you break apart on my tongue.”
And she did.
Her climax hit like lightning—bright and scorching, magic exploding from her skin in a flash of golden light. Cade didn’t stop, licking her through it, moaning like her pleasure was his own.
When she finally collapsed back onto the pillows, panting and boneless, he kissed his way up her body, slow and worshipful.
“You okay?” he asked softly, brushing hair from her damp cheek.
Lyra smiled, dazed. “That was just the beginning, wasn’t it?”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Cade pressed his cock against her slick entrance, not pushing in yet, just letting her feel how hard he was. “That was me saying hello.”
Then he slid inside her.
Slow. Deep. Devastating.
Lyra gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he filled her inch by thick, stretching inch.
“Oh fuck,” she whispered. “You’re—Cade, you’re so big?—”
