“Auryn,” he said, voice low and thick.
His hands found her hips. Patient. Unhurried. And then he turned her, positioning her toward the cot. He stepped in behind her, close, one hand on the small of her back, the other brushing her hair aside to kiss the nape of her neck. The gesture was soft, chaste. But theheatbehind it was fierce. Focused.
He bent close to her ear. “I haven’t forgotten,” he murmured. “Not a word of it.”
Her knees buckled. He caught her.
“Lean forward,” he said, guiding her hands to the cot.
He pressed against her—his chest flush against her back, armor cool against her skin. His hand slipped around between her soft thighs, slow and sure, fingers moving with the shape of her need.
“Is this what you want?” he asked.
She gasped. Nodded. Couldn’t even speak.
“Then let me give it to you.”
He exhaled, allowing his awareness to sink into all the subtle motions of her body. Kissing her shoulder. Her spine. One arm braced beside hers on the cot.
She responded like a bloom turning to light. Every breath she took shivered through her—delicate, startled,so alive. Her heart fluttered beneath his palm as he held her to him; their bodies aligned along every inch.
She mewled when his fingers slid lower. He stilled—just a heartbeat—listening. She pressed back into him, wordless permission in the tilt of her hips, in the way her breath caught and then came faster. So, he moved again.
Her thighs quivered. She was sofiercely honestin her pleasure. No artifice, no game. Just trust.
He murmured her name once.
She turned her head, cheek brushing his. “You feel so good,” she whispered, voice trembling like wind-chimes caught in a breeze. “So warm.”
“So do you,” he said, his voice nearly breaking with how much hemeant it.
He murmured encouragements against her shoulder as her sounds grew frantic—soft cries, whispered pleas, shivering moans that sent heat lancing through him.
“I have you,” he promised. “Don’t hold back. I want to feelallof it.”
Her hand reached back, found the side of his face, pulled him close. “Kailorien,” she breathed, “please—”
Her release struck like a tremor through her spine. He felt it before he heard it, the way she seized around his hand, the way her whole body arched, the cry she tried to muffle against her own arm.
He let out a ragged breath, forehead resting between her shoulder blades, his hand still trembling against her belly. His other hovered near the buckles at his waist.
“Just—give me a moment,” he murmured, voice husky, velvet-edged with strain.
She nodded, dazed, her cheek resting against her forearm. “You’re still wearing...all of it.”
A breathless laugh, half pained, half amused. “I thought it might keep me safe.”
“From…what?”
“You,” he breathed. “But against you, I have no defense.”
He undid the ties to free himself. The moment he pressed against her again, she gasped. His fingers tightened around her hips as he adjusted his position behind her, careful—always careful—despite the storm crashing through his veins. His breath came hard now.
“You feel it?” he murmured, his voice rough silk, broken open at the edges. “That heat between us?”
“You’re...” she whispered, voice cracking with awe, “Kailorien—you’re—I thought I understood...but I didn’t. Not until now.”
Resh steadied her. His mouth brushed her spine.
