Rian's POV
I wake to Luca still sleeping, exhausted from yesterday's heat cycle.
He's beautiful like this—hair messy, lips slightly parted, mate mark visible on his throat. Mine. Completely mine.
I trace the mark gently, and he stirs.
"Morning," he mumbles, voice rough from sleep.
"Morning, baby." I kiss his shoulder. "How do you feel?"
"Sore. Satisfied. Happy." He rolls to face me, eyes soft. "You took care of me."
"Always will." I cup his face. "That's what mates do."
"Most mates don't spend twelve hours—" He blushes.
"Most mates aren't bonded to you." I kiss him softly. "And I'd do it again. Gladly."
He pulls me closer, initiating the kiss this time. It's slow, tender, different from yesterday's desperation. This is love, not just need.
His hands slide down my chest, exploring. I catch them gently.
"You need rest," I murmur against his lips.
"I need you." His eyes meet mine. "Not heat-driven. Just... wanting you."
My control fractures. "Luca—"
"Make love to me, Rian. Slow. Tender. Show me it's not just the bond."
I kiss him deeply, pouring everything through our connection. Love, devotion, worship.
"It's never been just the bond," I promise, settling between his legs. "It's always been you."
I take my time—kissing every inch of skin, murmuring words of love, learning what makes him sigh. When we finally join, it's slow and deep and overwhelming.
"I love you," I breathe against his mouth. "So fucking much."
"Show me," he gasps. "Show me forever."
I do. Thoroughly. Until we're both shaking and complete.
Later, tangled together in morning light, he traces patterns on my chest.
"That was different," he observes.
"Good different?"
"Perfect different." He kisses my jaw. "That was making love, not just..."
"Sex?" I finish. "There's a difference with you. Always has been."
"Even at the beginning? When I hated you?"
"Even then. I was desperate and wrong, but it was never just physical." I tilt his face up. "You're my mate. My heart. My everything."
Tears shine in his eyes. "When did you get so romantic?"
"You inspire me." I kiss his forehead. "Want breakfast?"
"Want you."
"You have me. Forever." I pull him up. "But you also need food. Come on."
In the kitchen, I cook while he watches, wearing only my shirt.
"This is domestic," he says, smiling.
"This is happiness." I set pancakes in front of him. "Every morning, waking up with you. Making you breakfast. Loving you. This is all I ever wanted."
"You wanted a mate who could actually cook," he teases. "These pancakes are burned."
"Eat them anyway."
He does, laughing. The sound fills my heart.
"Rian?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For everything. For being patient. For loving me." His eyes are serious. "For giving me time to love you back."
"Always worth the wait." I pull him into my lap. "You're worth everything."