My skin tingles, chest heaving with rapid breaths. Heat pools in my core as he plays my body like a finely-tuned instrument, each caress drawing out new sounds of pleasure.
"Are you ready for me?"
I arch back, my spine curving like a drawn bow as liquid fire courses through my veins. "Ready as a canvas waiting for its artist."
When he finally joins us together, the sensation steals the breath from my lungs. His deep groan mingles with my gasping cry, echoing off the walls. My body trembles, adjusting to his presence. "You're perfect," he breathes, each word rough with passion. "Made for me."
I roll my hips, meeting him thrust for thrust in our primal dance. "Show me how perfect we are together."
His palms spread wide across my hips, fingers pressing deep enough to leave tomorrow's memories as he moves with increasing urgency. Our bodies meet in a primal rhythm, the sound echoing through the space. When I drop to my forearms, the new angle draws him deeper, pulling a sound from his chest that reverberates through our joined bodies and sends electricity dancing along my skin.
"Fuck." The word tears from his throat as his movements become more intense, more desperate. My cries mingle with the violent protest of the headboard against the wall, our shared symphony building toward crescendo.
"More," I plead, my voice fracturing between gasps.
Heat coils low in my belly, electric sparks shooting down my thighs as pressure builds and builds. My fingers twist in the sheets until my knuckles go white, waves of pleasure rippling through my core with increasing intensity.
"Yes, Red," he growls. "Let me hear you."
My spine arches like a drawn bow, every muscle pulling taut. Stars explode behind my eyelids as ecstasy crashes through me. His name tears from my throat, raw and primal, echoing off the walls. My legs tremble as electricity races along every nerve ending, leaving me gasping and shaking.
"That's it," he rasps between ragged breaths, his rhythm faltering. His fingers burrow into my flesh, branding me as his.
I pivot to glimpse him, sweat-soaked hair plastering my neck and shoulders. His jaw locks, eyes clench, every muscle petrifies. A sound thunders from deep in his chest, blending growl and moan as he withdraws and erupts. His body convulses as ropes of semen spatter my ass.
His chest heaves as his eyes, midnight-dark with blown pupils, devour the sight of me. Sweat shimmers on his tattooed skin in the dim light. "Perfection." The word escapes reverent and raw, his voice scraping with spent passion. His fingers swirl through it before pressing to my lips. I savor his taste, and his eyes storm over as I purr.
"Wait here," he commands, voice rough with emotion.
I watch him slide from the bed, admiring the play of muscles under his tattooed skin as he strides to the bathroom. The sound of running water fills the air moments later.
He returns, and before I can process what's happening, strong arms scoop me up, pulling a startled squeak from my throat. His eyes catch mine, dancing with mischief.
"My canvas needs cleaning," he rumbles, his voice vibrating through my bones. "Every inch deserves attention."
A laugh bubbles up from my chest, my head still spinning pleasantly. "Well, that is quite the stamina you've got there." My voice comes out breathy and rough. "And to think, I was considering napping while you showered."
His answering laugh reverberates through his chest and into mine where our skin meets. "Naps are for later, Red. Right now, we have a masterpiece to tend to."
Steam curls around us as he carries me into the bathroom, wrapping us in a warm cocoon that beads on our skin. The shower's steady rhythm creates a private symphony, our own intimate world sealed away from everything else.
I melt into his embrace, savoring the solid warmth of him, the tender way he holds me like I'm something precious. This gentle playfulness, this deep care—it's everything I never let myself hope for. When he sets me down on the soft bath mat, his eyes find mine with an intensity that steals my breath.
"I love you, Isabella Jenkins."
The confession hangs in the steam between us, and my heart thunders against my ribs, recognizing its missing half. Every wall I've built, every defense I've maintained, crumbles under the weight of this moment.
"I love you too." The words break free like a dam bursting, raw and honest and unstoppable. "I never stopped loving you, Ares Saint. Not for a single day."
Joy transforms his face like dawn breaking after endless night. His smile—God, his smile—is pure radiance, stripped of all guards and pretenses. His hands cup my face with such tender reverence that tears spring to my eyes.
"Isabella." My name becomes a prayer on his lips, a benediction. "My Red. My heart. My everything."
Tears spill down my cheeks as years of yearning crystallize into this perfect moment. This is home. This is where I've always belonged. He's the missing piece I've searched for in every failed relationship, the reason no other touch ever felt quite right. It's always been him.
His forehead presses against mine, our breaths mingling in the steam. "You're my home," I whisper, the truth of it settling bone-deep. "You always have been."
When he lifts me, my legs wrap around his waist instinctively, my body remembering this dance across time. As he joins us together, I gasp at the perfect fit—two pieces of a whole finally reunited.
