Her voice dropped—aching, stripped of all the boldness she so often wore like armor.
“I’ve called your name,” she said. “With want…and need. But you—you haven’t touched me since that night.”
He flinched.
Something shifted in her gaze. From fire to trepidation.
Her lips thinned, then parted.
“Do you not want me anymore?”
There it was.
Not accusation.
Not plea.
Just her truth.
Laid bare.
Her words echoed in the hush between them. Soft. Wounded.
“Auryn,” he rasped. Just her name. A tether. The air between them thinned. His hands hovered in the space just beside her shoulders. “You believe I don’t want you?” His voice cracked around the edges.
He touched her then. One hand to her cheek. The other sliding around to cradle the back of her neck. His thumb brushed just beneath her jaw.
“I want you so much I don’t know how to hold it in my hands without breaking it.”
She blinked, eyes wide.
“You gave yourself to me,” he whispered. “That night. Without hesitation. Without fear. And since then, I haven’t returned…”
His forehead came to rest against hers.
“Because I’mafraid.”
“Afraid?” she breathed.
He nodded.
“Of going too far. Of hurting you. Of forgetting I’m not meant to take, but toprotect.”
His breath ghosted over her lips.
“Even now. You stand before me like this. Beautiful. Glowing. I have never harbored a desire as deep as the one that runs in my blood for you.”
She took a shaky breath.
He mirrored it.
“But you are healing. You are fragile. And I—” his voice dropped. “I want you so badly I dream of your scent. Of your hair. Of your skin on mine.”
Her lips parted. “Then why—”
“Because if I lose control,” he whispered, “I will not forgive myself.”
“But I trust you.”
