The soft glow of the moon bathed their bedroom in silver light, casting quiet shadows along the silk curtains that swayed with the breeze. Zayden stood near the window, shirt half-buttoned, lost in thought—until he turned and saw Elena watching him from the bed with that look. That one look that could melt steel.
Her hair spilled over her shoulders like ink, her lips parted, eyes burning with emotion—and something deeper. Need.
"Elena," he breathed, crossing the room in a few long strides. "You should rest. After the week we've had—"
She placed a finger on his lips, stopping him. "I don't want to sleep tonight, Zay."
His brows furrowed slightly, always the protector, always cautious. But Elena's hand slid to his chest, fingers curling over the fabric. "I'm not fragile," she whispered, tugging him down into a kiss. "Not when I'm with you."
Their lips met slowly—like a story unfolding, unhurried, deliberate. Every kiss pulled at something buried deep in them both. She moved first, guiding him toward the bed, pushing his shirt off his shoulders with a growing urgency.
Zayden let her take control, his breath quickening as her kisses trailed down his throat. Her fingers tangled in his hair while his hands gripped her waist, grounding himself as her body pressed close.
"Elena..." he whispered as she straddled his lap, warmth and silk beneath her thighs. She kissed him again, deeper this time, her fingers tracing the familiar scar on his shoulder. "Are you sure?" he asked, always needing her answer, her clarity.
"I've never been more sure," she said, cupping his face. "I want to feel alive with you tonight. All of me. No fears. Just... us."
He nodded once, fierce emotion flashing in his eyes. "Then I'll make sure this night stays with you forever."
Every touch became poetry. Every kiss—devotion.
The pace was slow, drawn out like a song only they could hear. Zayden's hands were gentle but desperate, reverent yet possessive. He whispered her name like a prayer between kisses, holding her as if the world would vanish without her.
Elena led him in rhythm, her movements confident, sensual, claiming every second. The sheets twisted around them like waves, the night filled with soft moans, whispered promises, and muffled laughter when they couldn't stop smiling between kisses.
Later, after hours of losing and finding each other, Elena collapsed against Zayden's chest, both of them glowing with sweat and love. Her fingers drew circles on his skin as he held her tightly, their hearts still racing.
"I love you," he whispered into her hair, voice low and rough. "So much it terrifies me."
She tilted her head up, her smile soft. "I love you more, Zayden Wolfe."
He chuckled and kissed her forehead. "Impossible."
The night wrapped around them, soft and silent. The world could wait. Right now, there was only them—and the quiet promise of forever.
The morning light spilled in softly through the sheer curtains, casting a golden glow across the bedroom. Zayden lay half-asleep, one arm draped protectively over Elena's waist, his face buried in the crook of her neck. Her skin still held the warmth of the night before, and his heartbeat thudded gently against her back like a lullaby.
Elena slowly opened her eyes and smirked.
"Zay," she whispered, her voice hoarse and teasing. "Are you alive?"
He grunted.
"Because I just want to make sure you survived eight rounds of intense cardio."
That woke him up.
He blinked, groaned, and turned his head toward her with a sleepy scowl. "You kept count?"
She rolled over to face him, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Of course."