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If I could blush, I would have. The unmentionable housekeeping of looking after someone in a coma wasn’t exactly bedroom talk with the girl I wanted to pounce on and claim. “Eh, I’m guessing I have…a catheter in?”

Her cheeks pinked. “You do.”

I forced a chuckle, proud that I could achieve yet another skill. “I’m hard.”

“Oh, God. I shouldn’t have touched you. I’m so sorry.”

“Woman, shut it.” I turned my head, thankful that I could do that even while cursing the lack of so many other things. “Kiss me.”

“What?” Her eyebrows shot into her hairline. “There is no way I’m kissing you. You literally just said you’re in pain.”

“Kiss me.” I couldn’t stop looking at her mouth, despite the pain in my cock, regardless that I’d woken with tangled priorities of wanting sex over the ability to walk.

“You just woke up after being dead for six weeks.”

“All the more reason to kiss me.”

“I’m not kissing—”

“I’m already hard, Eleanor. The discomfort is already there. Kiss me…let me say a proper hello to you, and then you can fetch the doctor and put me out of my misery, okay?”

She paused. “I’ll fetch the doctor now. She can remove the catheter and—”

“I need to kiss you.” I sent every command through my limbs to sit up and grab her. I managed a few hand twitches and leg shuffles, but that was it. “Kiss me, goddammit.”

“But—”

“I won’t ask again, Jinx.” I glowered. “Come here.”

She shivered, and her nipples pebbled beneath my shirt. The material gaped as she leaned over me, giving me a glimpse down her cleavage to the weight and femininity of her chest.

Ah, fuck.

More pain shot down my cock.

This wasn’t the smartest idea. I would suffer the moment her lips pressed on mine, but I would trade a million fires and a thousand drownings just to kiss her.

Kiss her after I thought I’d lost her.

Kiss her every hour of every day to make up for lost time.

“Sully, this probably isn’t wise.” She hovered over me, her soft breath minty and warm on my lips. Had she kissed me while I’d been under? Had I been able to taste her like I’d tasted icy berries, or had I slipped too far?

How did she know how to wake me? What possessed her to go against practitioner’s orders and attempt to nurse me back with sensation?

She truly was a goddess who owned me life and soul.

“I don’t care.” I strained to sit up, willing my head to come off the pillow but only causing my heart rate to spike. “Stop teasing and kiss me.”

“I’m not teasing. I’m deliberating.”

“Kiss me.” I focused on her stunning silver stare. I licked my lips, craving her. My balls tightened and another shot of pain ran hotly through my cock. “Kiss me, then get the doctor.”

“What if—”

“I’m not asking, Jinx.”

Her elbows buckled, and her mouth pressed hard against mine.

She moaned.

I groaned.

Pika and Skittles took wing.

Their feathers fluttered around our heads as I opened for her and my tongue slipped into her mouth. I hunted her, wanting to lick her, dance with her. I couldn’t move any other part of my godforsaken body, but I could kiss her and remind her that our chemistry still blazed bright, that our bond and link had only manifested into something unbreakable.

When her tongue met mine, I sank into the wet eroticism of our kiss.

She deepened it, pressing my head against the pillow and brushing our noses together as we feasted and suffocated, switching from sweet hello to savage desire.

This lust was different, though.

It didn’t just hold the singular urge to mate and join. It wasn’t elixir desperate or selfish need for a release.

This had a different sharpness. A pain that spoke of separation and risk of never finishing our love story. It was still salted with goodbye.

Never.

I would never say goodbye again.

I bit her bottom lip, easing another moan from her chest.

She kissed me deeper, making me harder, ensuring pain became difficult to ignore.

A flicker of being locked in Ace’s cage and at Drake’s mercy came and went. Eleanor had found her way back to me, despite me sending her away for her safety, and I’d found my way back to her, despite the blackness of my end.

I’d promised her something when I’d lain broken and bleeding in that cage.

“If we survive this, Eleanor Grace…I’m going to fucking marry you.”

“Is that a proposal?”

“It’s a vow.”

I smiled against her lips. “So, you dreamed that you married me, huh?”

She winced. “You died the moment I said I do.”

“I won’t do that next time.”

Pulling away, her lips glistened and her eyes searched mine. “What are you saying?”

I longed to push aside the hair cascading over her shoulder, to hook it behind her delicate ears, to cup my fingers around her nape and bring her mouth back to mine.

Instead, all I could do was fetter her with words. “I have a new vow to give you, Eleanor.” My heart rate picked up, exhilarating and exhausting. “The day I can walk on my own, I’m marrying you. You will say yes because there is no other option for us. You will promise to honour me, cherish me, and accept everything that I am, because I refuse to let you go.”

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