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“I’m yours. I’ll stay forever. I’m not going anywhere. I love you.”

He kisses me then, open-mouthed and desperate, and keeps fucking me through it. I reach down between us and find my clit with my fingers. He covers my hand with his and presses down. His claws rest against my belly. I feel every one of them and I feel nothing but safe.

“Please,” I say into his mouth. “Please, please, I’m close, don’t stop.”

“Never.”

“Mordred.”

“Come for me. Let me feel you.”

I come with my legs locked around him, my nails digging into his shoulders, and his name on my lips. It starts where he’s buried inside me and spreads up into my chest. My cunt clenches around his cock over and over, and I hear the sound I make, loud and broken. He groans at the feel of me. He keeps thrusting through it, slower now, deeper, and I hold him with my whole body until the pulsing eases.

“Beautiful,” he says, hoarse. “That was beautiful.”

“Now you.” I lift my hips against him. “Inside me. I want it.”

He drops his forehead to mine and fucks me deep, three strokes, four, and on the fifth, his back arches, he pushes as far into me as he can go and comes. I feel his cock pulse. I feel him fill me, hot and thick. He groans against my neck with his mouth wide open, and I turn my head and kiss the seam on his cheek while he spends himself in me.

Then he collapses. His weight lands on me, his chest on my bare breasts, his hips still between my thighs, and his face in my hair. I wrap my arms around him and hold on. I can hear his breathing, fast and rough beside my ear, and under it, the faint tick of the lamp on the desk.

“Mordred.”

He hums.

“You’re crushing me.”

“Mm.”

“You’re too big, too heavy. I can’t breathe.” I push at his shoulder and laugh with what air I have left. “Get off me, you great monster, you’re going to squash me into your books.”

He lifts off me right away, up onto his elbows, and looks down at me with his hair falling around his face.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” I take a proper breath. “Just don’t kill me. I only just promised to stay.”

“You did.” His eyes move over my face, slow, from my mouth to my hair and back. “You did promise.”

“I did.”

He slides out of me, and I feel his seed drip down my thighs. He tucks himself back into his trousers without lacing them. Before I can sit up, he gathers me off the table, ruined bodice and bunched skirts, one arm under my knees and the other around my back. I put my arms around his neck. He carries me out of the library and down the corridor, and I listen to his steps on the stone and to my own breathing slow against his throat.

His bedroom is dark except for the lamp on his desk. He sets me on the edge of the bed and pulls back the covers. I kick off my boots and let the torn gown fall off my shoulders. He steps out of his trousers and climbs in after me. The sheets are cold, but he isn’t. He pulls the blankets over both of us and draws me to his chest. I burrow into the heat of him and wish to stay there forever.

“Say it once more,” he says into my hair.

“I love you.”

“The other thing.”

“I’ll stay.” I find his hand under the blanket and lace my fingers through his. “I live here now.”

He breathes out. I hear it, long and slow, and I feel his whole body relax. His arm tightens around me.

I close my eyes and listen to him breathe. The sound of it is the last thing I know before I fall asleep in his arms.

Epilogue