I nod. “I was sure five years ago.”
Clothes scatter. A shirt hits the back of a chair. His jacket lands in a heap. The hum of the console drowns in the rush of heartbeats and the hitch in my breath when his hands find my waist, my skin, the places he used to know so well. I memorize him all over again—familiar and new in the same breath.
His hand slides under my tank, rough-scaled palm brushing my stomach, my ribs. His golden skin glows in the dim light. He’s bigger now. Broader. But his touch is still gentle. Worshipful.
“You’re still the most dangerous thing I’ve ever wanted,” he murmurs.
I pull him down to kiss me again, and this time, there’s no going back.
His fingers slide into my shorts, find the slick heat of my pussy, and his breath stutters against my cheek.
“You’re already soaked,” he growls. “Fuck, Nova…”
I moan when he circles my clit, rough fingers maddening and precise.
“I missed this,” I whisper. “Missedyou.”
He drops to his knees in front of the couch, drags my shorts down, eyes locked on me. His tongue flicks over his lips before he lowers his mouth to my cunt and licks—long, slow, and deep.
“Oh—fuck, Kaz?—”
His tongue isn’t human. It’s longer. Hotter. Forked. He uses it like a weapon, like a prayer. He devours me like he’s starving, like this is the only meal he’s ever wanted. My thighs shake. My hands claw at the cushion. I’m writhing, coming undone with every pass of his tongue over my clit.
He growls against me, the sound vibrating through my core.
When I come, it crashes over me hard and fast. I cry out his name, arching, trembling.
He doesn’t stop.
He keeps licking until I’m whimpering, too sensitive, too raw.
Then he stands, eyes dark and wild.
“Bedroom,” I pant.
He lifts me, carries me down the hall like I weigh nothing. We fall into bed, breathless, feral.
His cock is hard and heavy between us, golden and ridged, thick and pulsing with heat. I reach for it, wrap my fingers around him. He groans, hips jerking into my touch.
“Don’t tease,” he growls.
“I wasn’t planning to.”
I guide him to my entrance. He holds himself there, eyes locked to mine.
“This time,” he whispers, “I’m not letting you go.”
He thrusts in.
I cry out, hands clutching his shoulders. He fills me—deep, wide, impossibly thick. The stretch is almost too much. Almost.
But it’s perfect.
“Fuck, Nova—so tight,” he groans. “You feel… gods, you feel like fire.”
He starts to move. Slow at first. Deep. Each thrust grinds against my g-spot, and I can’t stop the moans spilling from my lips.
His golden body glows in the faint light, sweat glistening on his scales. His eyes are locked on mine, fierce and open and raw.
