The kisses deepened. His hands mapped familiar territory with fresh reverence like he needed to verify I was still whole. I understood the impulse—my fingers traced the planes of his back, counting the vertebrae through thin cotton.
"Bed," he murmured against my jaw. Not a question or demand—just certainty.
I nodded, letting him pull me up. The movement sent sparks of pain through my ribs, but I didn't care. His hands never entirely left me as we navigated the darkened apartment. Thebedroom door clicked shut behind us, and James's fingers found the hem of my shirt.
"You sure?"
Instead of answering, I helped him ease the fabric over my head, wincing slightly as the motion pulled at bruised muscle. His shirt followed, revealing bandages stark against his skin. I traced the edge of the gauze covering his shoulder, remembering flames licking up his sleeve.
"Stop." He caught my wrist. "I'm here. We both are."
I pressed my forehead against his collarbone, breathing in the lingering scent of smoke and survival. His hands slid into my hair, holding me there while the world steadied around us.
James's hands guided me as we moved together.
The darkness held us, broken only by the city's light filtering through the blinds I hadn't bothered to close. It painted patterns across James's shoulders as he moved above me, his breathing uneven but controlled. My hands traced the lean muscles of his back, feeling them shift beneath his skin.
Heat built between us, slow and inescapable. James's lips found my throat, teeth grazing the skin. I arched into the contact, one hand fisting in his hair while the other gripped his hip.
We'd done this before—traded hunger and need in desperate moments, but it was different now. Each touch lingered, exploring without rushing toward completion. His fingers threaded through mine, pinning my hand beside my head while his other hand traced patterns down my chest.
The music faded into the background, a soft hum that underscored our movements. We shed the rest of our clothes, each piece of fabric a layer of armor we no longer needed. Skin to skin, there was no hiding, no pretense—only us, raw and real.
James's hands roamed over my body, careful of the bruises but unyielding in their intent. There was desperation in his touch,the need to claim and be claimed. I met him with equal fervor, my fingers digging into his shoulders, pulling him closer.
"I need you," he murmured against my skin, his voice rough with emotion.
"I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
His mouth trailed down my neck, leaving a path of heat that made me arch into him. His arousal pressed against me, a silent plea that mirrored my desire. His hands were everywhere, mapping my body reverently.
When his sheathed cock finally entered me, it was with a slow, deliberate thrust that made me gasp. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him deeper, needing to feel every inch of him. His breath hitched as he began to stroke me.
Our bodies moved in sync, a dance as old as time yet uniquely ours. Each thrust and caress was a testament to our bond, a promise of more to come.
When our orgasms finally crashed through us, it was a shared climax that left us both breathless and trembling. James collapsed against me, his body slick with sweat, his heart pounding in time with mine. I held him close, my fingers tangled in his hair, unwilling to let go.
We lay tangled afterward, sweat cooling on our skin while our breathing steadied. James's weight settled half across my chest, his head tucked under my chin. My fingers traced idle patterns along his spine, feeling his muscles gradually unwind.
"You okay?" I murmured into his hair.
He kissed my collarbone. "Yeah." A pause, then softer: "You?"
Instead of answering, I pressed my lips to his temple, tasting salt and survival on his skin. The words I'd been holding back finally broke free. "I love you."
James was still for a heartbeat. Then he shifted, propping himself up to meet my eyes. His expression was open and confident.
"You know that already," he said like it was the most straightforward truth in the world.
I smiled. "Say it anyway."
He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the hollow of my throat. "I love you."
The words settled into my bones, warming places I hadn't realized were cold. Outside, the city hummed with its usual rhythm, but for once, no sirens split the night. No phones rang with fresh emergencies. It was only us.
James's breathing evened out as sleep pulled him under. I stayed awake a while longer, one hand resting over his heart, feeling it beat steady and strong beneath my palm. For the first time in weeks, I didn't need to count the rhythm to know we were both still here.
Rain tapped against the windows—a steady rhythm, unlike the chaos of firehoses. James shifted beside me, his breathing changing as sleep loosened its hold. Our skin stuck slightly where we pressed together, the remnants of sweat and hospital soap.
