Page 87 of A Sinful Gravity

He leaned down, kissed me, voice against my lips. "I'm here."

Cassian's cock twitched hard against me, his face twisted in pained restraint, veins bulging on his neck as he fought the urge to thrust wildly. But he was gentle, inching forward bit by bit, his thick length stretching me open with agonizing slowness.

I bit down on his shoulder, muffling a cry as he filled me completely, our bodies locking together in perfect, overwhelming fullness. We both let out deep, satisfied sighs, his arms wrapping around me tight.

He sank all the way in, then stilled, holding me close, kissing my forehead and the corners of my eyes.

"You're my everything," he whispered. "All I want in this life is to make you feel good, make you happy."

I squirmed restlessly, and Cassian groaned low.

"Eyes on me, baby," he commanded softly. "Look at me."

I opened my eyes, locked onto his. Love poured from them, melting me.

Cassian started moving, slow and deep at first, each thrust pushing him to my absolute core, hitting depths that made stars burst behind my eyelids. My legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, my gaze turning hazy with pleasure as he rocked into me.

"Fuck, Luna," he cursed low, voice gravelly, "you're so damn tight—squeezing me like that, shit, just hearing you moan is gonna make me lose it." He kept up the filthy whispers, words that flushed my cheeks and spiked my pulse.

"You feel so good wrapped around my cock, baby—milking me, begging for more without saying a word. I've dreamed of this, of burying myself in you, making you scream my name."

My mind blanked out, reduced to pure instinct, body arching and writhing as ecstasy built, overwhelming every thought. I cried out, tears slipping down my cheeks from the sheer intensity, the bliss so sharp it hurt in the best way.

That sound flipped something in him. His eyes darkened, thrusts picking up speed, hips snapping harder but still reined in, not brutal, just enough to drive me insane.

The mix of tenderness and raw power had me unraveling. I clawed at his back, gasping, every plunge sending shocks through me.

Cassian panted heavily, sweat dripping from his brow, his muscles flexing under my hands as he fought to hold back. "God, you're killing me," he growled, one hand sliding between us to rub my clit in time with his movements, amplifying everything.

I bucked against him, the pressure coiling tighter, my walls fluttering around his length. He leaned down, capturing my lips in a messy kiss, tongue mimicking his thrusts below.

"Come for me, Luna, I've got you." His pace quickened more, deep and relentless, pounding into me with controlled force that had my toes curling, breath hitching in sobs. The room filled with the slick sounds of us, his grunts mixing with my whimpers. I felt it building, that white-hot peak, my body tensing like a bowstring.

"Cassian, oh God!" I shattered, screaming as the orgasm ripped through me, spasms wracking my core, clenching down hard on him. That pushed him over. He roared low, thrusting a few more times erratically before spilling inside me, calling out "Luna!" in a guttural shout, his body shuddering against mine.

We rode the waves together, his hips grinding to a halt as aftershocks pulsed through us. He collapsed partly on me, both of us heaving, slick with sweat.

After, he didn't pull out right away, just held me, kissing my hair.

"Luna. I love you."

We lay wrapped up quietly for a bit, then he reached over, opened the nightstand drawer, and pulled something out.

The ring. Blue sapphire, circled in tiny diamonds.

"I've carried it these six years," he said. "On trips, by the bed at night. Sometimes I'd look at it, hoping one day it'd be back on your finger."

His fingers shook taking my hand. When I didn't pull away, he slid it on.

"Luna." He looked up, eyes sparkling faintly. "No matter what, to me, you're my only wife forever."

I stared at the ring, the diamonds catching light, a bit blinding.

But it yanked me back to six years ago—me, tentative, groveling. He'd called me his wife then, slid it on, made me feel like property.

Now, the same words.

But the tone? Different. Not owning—careful, cherishing.