“I needed to say it again.”
“No one’s ever looked at me the way you do.”
His brow furrows slightly. “That seems impossible.”
I laugh softly, though emotion roughens the sound. “See? Stuff like that.”
“What did I say?”
“You mean it so completely.”
“I do mean it.”
“I know.”
God, I know.
That is the problem.
The rain intensifies against the windows. The city outside becomes distant and muffled while warmth gathers in the kitchen around us. I can smell the clean mineral scent of his scales beneath traces of rainwater and downtown smoke. He smells like cold night air and safety and restrained strength.
I reach for the buttons near his collar before I can overthink it.
His claws—always so careful—ghost up my waist, thumbs dragging slow circles just above my hips. My breath catches as my body melts into him. The heat radiating off his scaled chest hits me like a tide, and my fingers fist in the fabric at his side. He’s so much taller, broader—alien and familiar, dangerous and gentle in a balance that makes me ache.
“You sure?” he asks, voice low, reverent.
I nod, eyes burning. “Don’t make me beg.”
His growl is soft, approving. He cups my jaw, thumb brushing my cheek, and kisses me with restraint that breaks within seconds. His lips—warm and slightly rough—press against mine with growing hunger. I open for him, moaning into his mouth as his tongue sweeps inside, tasting, claiming. His claws remain poised—careful—but his mouth is all need.
I press my hips forward, grinding against the hard bulge pushing against his pants. Kauss breaks the kiss to rest his forehead against mine, breath coming fast.
“Fuck, Evie,” he rasps. “You smell like lightning and salt. You taste like home.”
I grab his hand and drag it between my thighs.
“Then take it,” I breathe.
His claws twitch. One thick finger traces the seam of my pants, dragging over the wet heat soaking through.
“You’re soaked,” he growls. “Already?”
“I’ve been soaked since you walked in.”
That does it.
Kauss lifts me effortlessly and lays me on the bed like I’m fragile tech—then climbs over me like a storm. His weight cages me, but never traps. His knees press to either side of my hips, thighs like living stone, and I can see the ridged curve of his cock straining against his waistband. It’s large. Different. Hisscales taper down to a more fleshy, iridescent sheath from which the head of his cock peeks—thicker than any human I’ve seen, ridged along the base, slick with anticipation.
“You stare like I’m going to break you,” he teases, nuzzling my neck.
“Maybe I want to be broken,” I whisper, and he growls.
His hands pull my shirt up, revealing my breasts. He stares at them like they’re sacred, then bends to kiss the swell of one, dragging his tongue slowly over the peak until it stiffens beneath his heat. He suckles gently, then hard, until my back arches and my moans echo in the small room.
One hand slips between my thighs again, finally tugging down my pants and underwear in one fluid motion. He drags a single claw along my slit, just enough to tease the lips open.
“Spread for me.”
