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Each stroke against my clit, I inhale sharply, breathing Khaos, this, us, in.

“Say you’re mine,” I all but plead.

“Kota, I’m yours. I’ve never been anyone else’s. Only yours.”

Our mouths meet in a flurry of tongue and lips.

Feeling a nudge to my chin, I pull back enough for him to add, “Always yours.”

Only one word changed, yet everything changed.

Everything changed the day he moved in. I changed. I tripped.

And I’ve been falling ever since.

Without looking away, I write my name under his collarbone with a single fingertip.

On a groan, he lifts his head to mine, sealing our foreheads together as our bottom halves work in tandem to deliver as much pleasure as possible to the other. All the grinding and squeezing and sliding and—

Ah. Right there.

My body stutters out on top of Khaos’s.

“I’m… I’m…”

Holding me to him in an unbreakable hug, Khaos grinds up into me, gritting, “Take it. Take all of it. Every part of me, past, present, and future, is yours.”

Khaos comes immediately after me, his own body wracked with spasms as he fills me with his hot cum.

As soon as I have enough breath to, I ask, “You steal that line from Atlas?”

“That motherfucker wishes.”

Neither of our laughs make it past our lips, forever held in our chests as something special. Something no one can ever pollute. This moment is ours. This moment is us.

And I never want it to end.

Dex catches me gazing at my phone.

From the doorway, my friend mouths, “Muted?”

Even though it is, I nod.

“Does she know how whipped you are?”

“She better.” It’s pretty obvious to anyone paying attention.

Thankfully, Sera never does.

“Well, if you’re done with…” Dex makes a jerking-off motion. “You’re up.”

Dude knows damn well these calls are innocent but he likes to keep up the pretense that they’re not. I think it’s because strong emotions make us uncomfortable. Pussy shit—my dad, and I, call it. Well, I used to call it that. I’m working on ridding that word from my vocabulary, unless I’m talking about actual pussy. It’s true what Kota said. It is fucking toxic to think like that, talk like that, act like that, and I was doing all three. I don’t want to anymore though.

I can’t promise to be like one of those guys in her romance novels, who always seem to be perfect in every way—except Atlas—but I’m trying to be better. For Kota. She deserves the best. I don’t know how long it’ll take me to be that, but as long as I have passion and persistence, I’ll get there, right?

One more look at my silver lining, then I’m ready.

As usual, I turn off the camera before handing it over to Dex for safekeeping.