Her mouth opened under mine like she'd been waiting for this too, and she moaned into me like it hurt to finally have it.
I carried her toward the couch, stumbling a little because my knees were jelly and my hands refused to leave her. We landed messy. Lips still tangled. Her hair in my mouth. Her fingers under my shirt. My hand under hers.
"Kael," she breathed, whisper-shattered, like she didn't trust the sound of my name in her throat.
"Say it again," I begged against her collarbone, kissing, biting, losing it.
"Kael," she whispered, louder now. Needier.
Mine.
I laid her down flat on the couch and hovered over her, not touching, just watching, fucking memorizing the way she looked beneath me. Eyes glazed. Chest heaving. Lips parted and glossy from all the kissing.
"I need you," I told her.
She blinked.
Like she didn't know if I meant now or always.
The answer was both.
Always. Always her.
