words set his beast even more free—to the point that he flips me over, pinning me to the mattress like a lion taking down its prey. With more wild intent, he throws both my knees over his shoulders. Nearly doubles my body back on itself as he fucks into me with long, savage, stabs of his full, beautiful cock.
So
good.
So
perfect.
“Ah!” I slam my head back once more. Flail my coiled fists into the padded headboard, letting them pound with every new, deep thrust of his magnificent body. “I’m—I’m going to—”
The scythe swoops down. I am cut deep, exposed and raw, open and orgasming—laid completely bare to the gaze, leonine and green, tearing over every inch of my face as the beautiful heat pulls me over, again and again. His stare devours me, gorging on the meat of my spasms, lapping the blood of my screams—
Until he is vanquished too.
As the blade sinks fully into him, he lunges then stills. Our stares latch to each other as his cock expands then spills, soaking me with the hot flood of his climax.
“Ella,” he grits. “Goddamn.”
“Yes,” I whisper back.
“Take it.” His hands brace my buttocks. Hold me in place as he continues coming. “All of it.”
“Yes!”
He keeps emptying into me—and as he does, more than just my body clenches. My heart tightens, pushing at the walls of my chest, as I recognize an inescapable truth in the colliding green shards of his gaze. It is more than just his seed inside me. It is him—
As I am poured into him too.
More than just joined with him.
Filled by him.
More than simply in love with him.
Entwined with him.
And in an instant, I know why he didn’t echo my declaration—why his gaze turned so strangely severe before he entered me. His soul already knew what mine has just caught up to. This is more than just “chemistry,” or even the “love” we tried to honor it with.
This is an earthquake. A flood. A forest fire. An upheaval, altering the landscapes of our lives forever—
Backing my mind into one terrible, inescapable corner of conflict.
Our contract did not say forever.
So what, in Creator’s name, do we do now?
*
Cassian
What the hell do we do now?
As hard as I try, the mute button on the question won’t stick—even after I’ve gotten towels to clean us up, then settled back to the pillows with her face tucked to my chest and our legs a tight tangle. Like a summer night after fireworks, the air in the room is blatantly quiet but prickled with expectancy. I savor both. Revel in her, damp and naked and soft against me…
And know, with every neuron in my brain and instinct in my spirit, that four more months will not purge this woman out of my system.
Four more years?
Drop in the bucket.
Four decades?
What the hell would that even look like? Feel like? I’d be almost be seventy…
And burning just as much to sink my dick into her whenever I could. Living for the high, sweet cries she sets free, right before climaxing. Waiting for the perfect flutters of her cunt, clutching me as I fuck her to completion. Kissing her hard in order to open her eyes, so I can watch her orgasm wash through them—and seeing myself reflected in the blue diamond depths that mesmerized me the first moment we touched…
Wake up, dumbshit.
All the hearts and flowers and true love aside, you two haven’t discussed a fucking thing past the end of the contract. Technically, she still owes you four more months of her ass in this city—and nothing more. After that, she won’t just be down the hall or in the next room. All your amazing sexual chemistry aside, she’s been promised she gets to go home—then begin a life without her worth being tied to a man. Yeah, even one she’s in love with.
Love.
Shit.
Is that what we’re still calling it?
I’m afraid to ponder the answer to that—especially because the first part wasn’t part of my own plan, either. Correction: Plan, capital P. The master strategy that has been my keel for almost five years, unwavering in guiding me toward every single hallmark of my success—
Success.
What the hell does that even mean right now? The goals I’ve always been so sure of—the stability, the respect, the power, the domination—all seem like shadows through rice paper. Fuzzy…and fragile.
So what the fuck do I do now?
What is real anymore?
“Hey.”
The musical whisper tickles my chest, clanging me free from the dark meadows of my mind. I hum in