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I rise onto my toes and kiss him. His arms close around me.

“I want you too,” he murmurs against my lips. “All of you.”

Then his voice drops into that rough growl that makes heat rush through me.

“Mine.”

This time, the word doesn't make me angry. Because now I know there's a difference between being owned and belonging.

Maybe I don't understand it all yet. Maybe I'm not ready to name whatever this is between us.

But when I slide my hand between our bodies and Damian shudders against me, I know what I need tonight.

A rejoining.

A choice.

A chance to take the thing that happened without my knowledge and make it mine too.

He kisses me and walks me back until we’re both by his bed.

Then he lays down and pulls me on top of him. His hands are everywhere. Touching, caressing, worshipping me.

“Damn right, I worship you, Sweet. Fuck, look at you. Feel so good,” he growls, sucking one hard nipple into his hot mouth.

“Damian,” I gasp as I position myself astride his hips. Then I lift and lower myself onto his hard length.

He’s so big. So thick. The burn is delicious as he stretches my walls, filling me so perfectly with his glorious cock.

And it feels—it feels fucking perfect. Like he was made for this. For me.

“I was made for you, Sweet. Just you. Only you,” he groans and flexes his hips, pumping into me with perfect efficacy.

I touch the mark on my neck. Damian follows the movement. His entire body goes still—except for his heart. That maddening muscle thunders against mine.

And at that moment, magic detonates through me.

I gasp. Not pain.

Power.

Pure, astonishing power. Gold pours through the room, edged with brilliant crimson.

The lamps flicker. The windows rattle. Somewhere outside, wind whips through the trees.

And I feel—everything.

Damian.

His heartbeat.

His joy.

His Devil settling around me rather than pressing against me.

And beneath all of that⁠—

Me.