Page 18 of Axel Martin

When our bare skin finally met, it was like striking lightning.

Everything ignited.

He kissed me like I was the answer to every broken thing he carried. And when he slid inside me, slow and deep, I gasped—arching up, fingers clawing at his back, legs tightening around his hips.

“Axel…”

“I’ve got you,” he whispered against my mouth. “I’ve got you.”

We moved together—hungry, yes—but more than that.

Every movement was a promise. Every moan, a truth.

When I shattered beneath him, I cried out his name. He held me tight, his body trembling as he followed with a groan that sounded more like surrender than release.

He didn’t move away.

He stayed wrapped around me.

No words.

Just everything that mattered, pressed skin to skin.

15

Lark

The first thing I noticed was the warmth.

Not from the sunlight sneaking through the blinds—but from the man wrapped around me like I was gravity.

Axel’s arm was slung low across my hips, his chest pressed firm against my back, and his hand… well, it definitely wasn’t interested in personal space.

I smiled.

I shifted slowly, trying not to wake him, but when I turned, his eyes were already open—dark, warm, a little dangerous with sleep.

“Morning,” he said, voice scratchy and low.

“Morning,” I whispered back.

We just looked at each other for a moment. My fingers found the edge of the sheet. His thumb skimmed along my hip, lazy and possessive.

“You okay?” he asked.

“More than okay,” I murmured. “You?”

He nodded. “Didn’t sleep much. Kept checking to make sure you were still real.”

I grinned. “I had to check for bite marks.”

His lips curved. “You saying I got carried away?”

“I’m saying I was hoping you would.”

His mouth found mine again—slow, deep, lingering.

The kind of kiss that promisedmore… whenever either of us asked.

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