From that moment, there was no hesitation, only the raw, unrestrained rhythm of two people who had stopped fighting what they both already knew.
Casian's grip was firm, guiding her as she moved against him, each rise and fall sending waves of heat curling low in her belly. Their bodies moved in sync, as if they had found the exact pace meant for them, desperate yet unhurried, claiming yet giving.
Every time she took him deeper, his low, guttural sound vibrated against her skin, making her shiver. And every time she pulled away just enough to make him chase, his eyes locked on hers—dark and fierce reminding her that she had started this, and he intended to finish it.
Her hands slid from his face down to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under her palms. She was aware of every inch of him, every tightening muscle, every subtle change in his breathing.
"Casian…" Her voice was unsteady now, breathless.
