He paused once he was fully buried in her, his breath trembling against her throat. Her warmth enveloped him, pulsing around him with each of her shallow gasps, her body welcoming him like it had been waiting for this—just as long as he had.
“Lillith…” Her name was a prayer, a growl, a promise.
She cupped his jaw, tugging his face down until their foreheads touched. “Move, Dominic. Please.”
He obeyed.
Every slow thrust was reverent, a devotion spoken in the language of skin and sound. He moved with aching control, like he wanted to memorize the exact shape of her body wrapped around his. Her breath hitched each time he rolled his hips forward, hitting that spot that made her shiver and clutch at his back like she was afraid he might disappear.
Their bodies found a rhythm older than either of their bloodlines—lion and fae, shadow and fire—moving together in a syncopated song of want and wonder. The candlelight flickered across their skin, throwing shadows against the walls as if the room itself bore witness.
“You’re mine,” he murmured against her lips, voice low and rough, like it was pulled from the deepest part of him. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” she gasped, thighs tightening around his hips. “I’m yours, Dominic.”
“Again.” A ragged edge in his tone now, desperation laced through devotion.
“I’m yours.” Her voice cracked with emotion, with truth. “Gods, don’t stop.”
He kissed her hard then, swallowing her moan as he drove deeper, faster. But even then, it wasn’t just about the friction, the heat—it was the way she looked at him like he was hers, too. Like the walls she’d carried since childhood had finally crumbled, and he was the only one she’d let through.
Her nails dragged down his spine, a whisper of pain that only grounded him more. And when her legs shook around him and her body tightened with the force of another climax, he felt it like a detonation in his chest. She broke apart under him, beautiful and wild and unguarded.
“Dominic—” she cried out, voice raw, undone.
He couldn’t hold back.
He pressed his forehead to hers, their eyes locked even as pleasure overtook him. His hips stuttered, rhythm faltering as he spilled into her with a groan that reverberated from his core. She wrapped her arms around him as if she could anchor him to her soul—and maybe she already had.
Their bodies were still moving, slower now, a series of lingering rolls and soft tremors. His hands found hers, fingers threading together as he kissed the hollow of her throat, then her collarbone, then the curve where her neck met shoulder.
Her breathing was uneven, tears shimmering at the corners of her eyes—not from pain, not even from joy. From release. From the kind of vulnerability that scared the strongest people the most.
“I didn’t know it could feel like that,” she whispered, voice hoarse.
He brushed a sweat-damp curl from her cheek. “Me either.”
She turned her face into his palm, kissing it softly. “It wasn’t just the bond. This is something else.”
“I know,” he said. “I feel it too.”
They lay tangled in the aftermath, skin damp and hearts pounding in sync. Dominic shifted onto his side, drawing her with him until they were face to face beneath the blanket, their legs twined, her head resting on his arm.
His fingers stroked small circles across her lower back, grounding himself in the feel of her.
Lillith traced a line over his chest, slow and lazy, her fingertips dancing over the scar near his ribs. “You’ve always looked strong,” she said. “But you’re… soft, too. With me.”
“Only with you,” he replied, voice low.
She looked at him, green eyes glowing faintly in the candlelight. “Promise me something?”
“Anything.”
“No more running. No more waiting. If this is real—if we’re real—I want all of it. The risk. The magic. You.”
He leaned in, kissed her gently. “You’ve had all of me since the first time you looked at me like I wasn’t the enemy.”
She smiled. Not a sarcastic twist of her lips, not her usual smirk. A real smile. One that lit up every freckle on her cheeks. One that made him ache all over again.
