His hand moved to my thigh, palm wide and grounding. “Easy,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “I’m not going anywhere.”
I closed my eyes, ashamed of the resistance, of my own hesitation. But then his hand slid higher, across my hip, up the curve of my ribs—each stroke a quiet reassurance.
“You’re safe,” he said, not demanding, not coaxing. Just knowing.
His mouth found my jaw, my throat, the corner of my lips. Soft kisses, patient pressure.
“You can let go,” he whispered against my skin. “You can.”
And Seven help me—I did.
My legs eased open around him, hips tilting to receive. I exhaled, long and trembling, and felt myself yield.
Kazrek groaned, a sound torn from deep in his chest, and began to press forward again. Slowly, so slowly, he pushed inside, his thickness stretching me open in increments, until my breath hitched and my hands fisted in the blanket beneath me.
“You’re doing perfect,” he growled, voice raw with restraint. “You feel like—fuck—like you were meant for me.”
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes—not from pain, but from how he said it. Like it was the truth.
When he was fully sheathed inside me, his chest hovered over mine, his forearms braced on either side of my head, eyes locked with mine.
“Still with me?” he rasped.
I nodded, but it wasn’t enough. So I wrapped my arms around him, pulled him deeper, moved my hips, slow and sure.
And finally,finally, I said, “Yes.”
Kazrek groaned as his hips rolled forward in response, slow and deep, and my breath caught as he filled me again—so much, too much, and yet exactly what I wanted.
His hand slid beneath my thigh, lifting it to curl around his waist, opening me further. The angle changed, and I gasped—his name tearing from my throat, unbidden and wrecked.
His head dropped, mouth brushing the hollow of my throat. “That’s it,” he growled. “Let me in. Let me have all of you.”
A sound escaped me—half sob, half moan—as his mouth dragged along my collarbone, his tusks grazing my skin. I tilted my head to bare more of my throat for him, wanting to give him all of it, everything.
His pace quickened, hips driving deeper now, urgency rising like a tide. One of his hands tangled in mine above the bed, fingers locking tight. Anchoring. Claiming.
Every thrust sent sparks up my spine, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until I could barely breathe. My body was wrapped around him, beneath him,withhim in a way I hadn’t let anyone be in years—maybe ever.
“Don’t let go,” I whispered.
Kazrek’s golden eyes burned into mine. “Never.”
He kissed me then—hard, possessive, tender. And still he moved inside me, deep and relentless, each thrust dragging me closer to the edge.
I clung to him—one hand still knotted with his above the bed, the other fisted in the muscle of his back, feeling the flex and strain of him with every motion. His breath was ragged against my cheek, his skin slick with sweat where our bodies met. The room was spinning, narrowing to the heat between us, the rhythm of our bodies, the throb of pleasure building inescapably at my core.
“Kazrek—” I gasped, the sound catching on another cry as he hit something inside me that made everything shatter and spark.
“I’ve got you,” he rasped, voice wrecked. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you—”
The climax crashed through me, violent and exquisite. I arched beneath him, a cry tearing from my throat as the pleasure tore me apart and stitched me back together in the same breath. My body convulsed around him, and that was all it took.
With a sound between a snarl and a groan, Kazrek buried himself deep and stilled. His body went taut, shuddering as he came—his forehead pressed to mine, eyes clenched shut like he couldn’t bear to look and not fall apart.
We stayed like that, tangled and trembling, suspended in the breathless stillness that followed. My body was still pulsing around him, oversensitive, but I didn’t want him to move. Not yet.
His weight stayed braced above me, careful not to crush. One of his hands stroked my hip, lazy now, grounding.