Ch19. Call My Name (R18)

Or rather, she remembered.

It was only that the memory had been wrapped in too many other things. Wrapped in his scent. Wrapped in the night that had taught her, for the first time, that her body could feel like this. Wrapped in all those things she had never been able to say aloud, but which his hands, his lips, and his voice had already read through completely.

So completely that she could no longer pull any one detail out from the whole and look at it by itself.

She only knew that at some point, she had stopped merely receiving.

Now she was the one moving first.

This time, she wanted to be the one to please him. Not like before, when she had always been the one being touched. She reached for the buttons of his coat. Her fingers were still trembling.

So much that the second button took her a long time to undo. But she did not stop.

Her eyes remained on him. On those amber eyes that were always holding something back. She wanted to see what he was restraining.

Wanted to see it released. Wanted to see Jeffery Grant in front of her no longer as the calm, composed man who kept everything under perfect control.

When the third button came undone, she looked up.

His jaw had tightened slightly. That small detail made something inside her quietly curve upward.

She opened her palm and pressed it against his chest. Felt his heartbeat through the fabric. Felt its speed. Fast. Much faster than usual.

Fast enough for her to realize that he had been using some invisible force all along to hold himself inside that restraint.

She knew he was accustomed to control.

But even when she was the one taking the initiative, most of that control still belonged to him.

He could hold her tighter.

Catch her wrists. Grip her waist and control the way she moved. He had lost nothing. She leaned closer and pressed her lips lightly against his collarbone.

“Jeffery…” She called his name softly. Her voice carried a sweetness she herself did not realize had followed her throughout the entire night. “I’ll keep looking at you…”

Then she kissed him as she slipped the loosened coat from his body. His strong torso was revealed beneath it.

There were several blade scars across his skin, each one carrying a story she did not yet know.

She settled on his lap and shifted her position.

More precisely this time. Settling directly over the hardening shape of his desire. She wanted to feel the way it grew beneath her.

Wanted to feel the heat that still reached her even through his trousers. Jeffery did not move.

For those first few seconds, not moving was the only thing he was capable of doing. Her fingers moved slowly and awkwardly over the front of his coat. Each button felt like some unspoken question knocking against his chest.

The first.

His jaw tightened faintly.

His breathing remained steady. At least on the surface. The second took her much longer. He could feel her hand trembling.

That tremor passed through the fabric like a small current, bypassing every part of his reason and striking somewhere deeper. He did not help her. Even that surprised him slightly. Normally, he would have taken over. He was accustomed to leading. Accustomed to using his hands to press anything chaotic or uncontrolled back into its proper place.

But now, he only watched her. Watched her lowered lashes. Watched the faint crease between her brows as she concentrated.

Watched the way she caught her lower lip between her teeth.

The sight felt like something he had watched in dreams for seven years, except never this clearly.

Now it was unfolding in front of him in the most real way possible. When the third button came loose, he heard his teeth press together softly. Had she noticed? He knew almost immediately that she had. Because she looked up.

Something curved inside her eyes.

Not triumph. Not entirely. Something closer to a quiet, warm satisfaction.

As though she had finally pried open a narrow crack he had never willingly shown anyone, and now she was kneeling beside it, looking carefully inside.

That expression made his heart contract. Violently. Without permission. Her palm opened against his chest. His heartbeat was completely exposed beneath her hand. He knew it.

Knew perfectly well that its rhythm had betrayed him.

Usually, he could train his breathing into something like deep water. So calm that anyone might believe he was incapable of creating waves. But with her hand resting there, he could hide nothing. Her lips touched his collarbone. Light. Like the weight of a feather. Like a question rather than an answer. Then she called his name. There was something in her voice he had never heard from her before. Soft. But not deliberately so.

It was a quality she herself had not realized was there, steeped into her by the whole night and now clinging to his name, clinging to the few words she spoke.

Then all of it entered his ear. Entered the deepest part of his chest. And burned. Her hands slid the coat from his body. As the fabric slipped from his shoulders, he said nothing. He simply let her. His chest was slowly revealed beneath the candlelight. Firm.

Defined by years of swordsmanship. A horizontal blade scar crossed beneath his left ribs.

Another mark, thinner and older, lay near his collarbone. Pale enough to look like something from long ago. Yet still there. He saw her gaze pause over those scars.

He did not explain.

There would be time later, he thought. Plenty of time. He could tell her the story of each scar slowly. One by one. Until she was no longer curious. Then she shifted. Still sitting on his lap, she adjusted herself with a deliberate precision. He felt it almost immediately.

Her weight settling over his desire. Fabric still separated them. Yet the heat hardly felt separated at all.

His brows drew together slightly. His throat moved. The first reaction he truly failed to suppress. His hands—the same hands he was accustomed to using to control himself—rose slowly. He did not grip her waist. Did not control her movement. He only rested them lightly at her sides. The pressure somewhere between holding and not holding.

As though he were using a kind of restraint even he did not fully understand to pin himself in place.

His voice dropped. A faint roughness beneath it. “Anna…” Only her name. But as he spoke, his amber eyes remained fixed on her.

And the thing he had always kept restrained inside them had already begun, little by little, to loosen at the edges. Hearing the way he said her name almost melted her heart. She felt warmth gather between her thighs.

She knew he was the reason her body became like this. Every time. “I love you…” She said it gently. Then leaned forward and kissed him, wrapping both arms around his shoulders.

Her chest pressed against his. The softness of her breasts flattened against his firm body. Every intimate moment with him seemed to deepen what she felt.

It was there even in the way her tongue slipped into his mouth.

Gentle. Careful. Entwining with his as though she were trying to memorize him. She loved him. She treasured him. Her hips began to move lightly.

Grinding against him through the fabric. Feeling the shape beneath her gradually swell and harden.

Feeling faint currents of pleasure travel through her body with every slow movement.

She knew the front of his trousers had darkened where her body touched him.

And she knew he would not mind. Because that dark stain was there because of him. Wet. Hot.

The instant those three words reached Jeffery’s ears, something he had been holding upright inside himself quietly gave way.

Not collapse. More like dry earth finally receiving rain. Slowly loosening. Allowing itself to open.

When she held him and pressed her chest against his, he felt the softness. It was not the first time. Yet each time somehow felt like the first. Each time sent a faint, uncontrollable current along his spine.

The warm softness of her breasts against his chest sank deeper than skin.

Into bone. Then she kissed him. Her tongue entered his mouth. Gentle, but with a careful attentiveness. It did not feel like taking. It felt almost like touching.

As though she were tracing him this way. Learning every line of him one inch at a time.

He felt that care. Felt the word hidden in the way her tongue moved with his. Love. And then his hands, which had only been resting lightly at her waist, finally tightened. Slowly.

Not in impulse. It was something he had finally allowed himself to release.

He kissed her back. More firmly than she kissed him. But he did not take control away from her.

He only answered. Let her know that he had received that “I love you.” Received it completely. One hand slid slowly up her back. His fingertips traced the subtle line of each vertebra. Finally settling at the back of her neck.

His thumb rested lightly at the roots of her hair.

The gesture felt like a silent claim.

And also like a silent promise. And her lower body— she was moving. Those small, deliberate motions. Like ripples.

What reached him through the fabric was not merely friction. It was heat. Wetness. The complete honesty of her body toward him. He felt himself swelling little by little under the repeated pressure. Blood rushing faster.

Spine tightening. The growing heaviness and fullness slowly pressing his reason toward something thinner and more fragile. He lowered his head. His lips left hers and brushed beside her ear.

His breathing had grown heavier. His voice rough, carrying a tenderness beneath it that he himself might not have noticed. “Anna.” He called her name again.

This time even lower.

Dragged up from the deepest part of his chest.

“You know what you’re doing, don’t you…” It was not an accusation. It was confirmation. And beneath that confirmation was a vulnerability that almost surprised even him.

He wanted her to understand that what she was doing to him was not some small disturbance. It was an earthquake. Something that shook every foundation. Something that reached him despite all the walls he had built. His hand travelled from the back of her neck down along her spine. Past the curve of her waist. Until it settled firmly over her hip.

He felt her weight. Felt exactly where she sat against him. The fabric between them already bore the marks she had left behind. Hot. Wet. Her body speaking to him with such direct honesty that his gaze darkened at once. His throat moved.

Jeffery Grant—the calm, composed man who controlled everything so completely—was slowly, irreversibly opening the final door of his restraint in front of her. His palms guided her waist gently. Pressed her closer. Made the friction deeper. More certain.

Then he bent down and kissed the side of her neck. Lightly. But when he spoke, there was nothing calm left in his voice. “You said you love me…”

His voice was low beside her ear. Hot. Heavy with seven years of weight. “Then let me…” He paused. “Remember you properly.” The kiss at her neck carried the heat of desire.

The more he touched her like that, the more Anna wanted to kiss him properly. Love him properly. “I won’t let you forget me… never…” She said it softly. One hand moved to the left side of his chest. She could feel his heartbeat there.

Especially when her fingertips brushed across his nipple.

The beat became faster. Yes. Here. He reacted here. She remembered. Her kiss moved to his ear. Her tongue traced the rim. She lifted herself slightly away from his lap. Her other hand moved lower, opening the front of his trousers while she continued kissing him. She only loosened the outer layer. Even through his underwear, she could feel a damp patch there.

And this time, it had not come from her. It had come from him. “You’re very honest too…”

She laughed softly beside his ear as she said it. Then caught his earlobe gently between her teeth. She went further. Shifted her underwear aside. Exposed her wet sex. Not for him to touch. Instead, she lowered herself over him again. Over the hard shape beneath his underwear. Her wetness quickly soaked the fabric even more.

Then she began to move.

Grinding against him through that single damp layer.

Slowly. Gradually.

No hurry. She told herself she was learning his patience. But she was doing it deliberately.

Because making him wait like this was unbearable. And she wanted him to feel it too. The instant her fingers brushed across his nipple, Jeffery’s muscles tightened. It was not a dramatic movement. Only a sudden contraction through his abdomen. The lines beneath his ribs sharpened slightly with the involuntary tension. And the heart beneath her palm began beating like a traitor.

Once.

Again.

Completely beyond his control. He glanced down at her hand. Saw her fingertips lingering there. His gaze darkened. She was remembering. Remembering where he reacted. The realization pulled a very low sound from his throat. A muffled hum buried deep inside his chest. Not pain. Something closer to the sensation of being completely seen.

Of having the mask he had always held in place slowly lifted by the gentlest possible touch.

And being unable to stop her.

Worse—

not wanting to stop her. Then her lips moved to his ear. Her tongue traced a curve along the rim. Jeffery’s breathing lost its rhythm almost immediately. The muscles along the side of his neck tightened. His jaw angled slightly away. An instinctive reaction. As though his body were saying: too sensitive. And at the same time: no, closer. He felt her other hand moving lower.

Felt his trousers being opened little by little.

He said nothing. Only held his breathing down and let her continue. She was laughing. Right beside his ear. Then she caught his earlobe lightly between her teeth. The bite held a nearly playful amount of force.

Not painful. But precise enough to land directly on a fragile line of nerves.

A thin bolt of sensation shot from the base of his ear all the way down to his waist.

His hands tightened abruptly at her hips.

He said nothing. He could not. The words “very honest” brought heat to the base of his ears. It was one of the few visible reactions he almost never had. He did not blush. But his ears had gone warm. Heated by the sound of her laughter.

A trace of embarrassment he would never willingly admit, forced by his expression into something deeper.

Almost dangerous.

His amber eyes fixed on her. He felt the wet heat between them. Not vaguely. Directly. Her full warmth and moisture came through the thin fabric between them with almost no loss at all.

The sensation burned like hot honey poured over the most sensitive part of him.

Then she began to move. Jeffery clenched his jaw. He could hear it. That faint wet sound. Each slow movement felt intentional. Almost like torture.

As though she were telling him in the most delicate way possible:

I’m right here. Can you feel me? He could. He felt every motion. Felt her wetness soaking through the fabric and making him even wetter. Felt himself swelling harder beneath the repeated, deliberately slow friction. So full he felt as though he might tear through the final layer of cloth between them.

The heaviness gathered in waves.

Pressing his restraint toward its thinnest, most fragile point. He drew in a deep breath.

Slow. Deliberate. As though he were still trying to hold onto something that was already slipping from his hands.

Then he lowered his head. Rested his forehead lightly against the hollow of her shoulder.

His voice came muffled there. Rough as though dragged over gravel. “You…” He paused. The next words came through clenched teeth. “You’re doing this on purpose…” His hands moved slowly from her waist. Up along her back. Then down again.

Finally settling firmly around the hips that were moving over him.

He did not make her move faster. Instead, with controlled pressure, he slowed her down even more. Returning her own lesson to her. He lifted his head. Whatever had been loosening inside his eyes was no longer hidden at all.

Hot.

Bottomless. Directly fixed on her face.

A very faint curve touched the corner of his mouth. And inside that curve was something she almost never saw from him. Mischief. Only a little.

Barely the point of a needle. “You learned patience from me,” he murmured beside her ear. His voice felt like red-hot charcoal pressed lightly against her skin. “Then we’ll take our time…” His hands held her waist.

Controlled her. Kept her body closer to him. Slower. Deeper. Her most sensitive point had hardened into a small, tight ache, rubbing over the shape beneath her.

Her entire body tingled. “Ah—haa…” She tipped her chin upward.

The sound escaped before she could stop it. Her body began to tremble. “Mmh…”

She caught her lower lip between her teeth and rested her head against his shoulder.

The moment felt like heaven and hell at once. And that faint, wicked curve on his mouth made him look like something elegant and impossible to define. God or demon. Simply sitting there and enjoying every reaction he drew from her. That was the cruelest thing about him in that moment. He simply sat there.

Let her weight rest on him.

Let her burn little by little inside the slow rhythm he controlled. His hands remained firm at her waist. He would not let her move faster. Would not let her escape. Like someone controlling a flame.

Knowing exactly what temperature to keep it at. She lifted her chin. His gaze dropped to the line of her exposed neck. To the subtle movement of her throat.

To every sound that still escaped between her teeth despite the way she bit her lip. Those moans fell directly into his chest. Not gently. Like heated stones dropped into deep water. Ripples spreading outward. Into bone.

He felt her begin to tremble.

Small tremors. From her waist upward. From her fingertips inward.

Her body becoming so honest that she could no longer hide anything. Every sensation written into those involuntary movements for him to see. His jaw tightened. That faint wicked curve remained. But his eyes had become impossibly deep. She rested her head in the hollow of his shoulder. The movement carried a kind of exhausted closeness. Tired. Yet unwilling to move away. Her breath fell against his neck. Warm. Uneven. Each exhale drawing a faint response from his skin.

He felt every tremor of her body against him.

Felt every pass of her most sensitive point against his hardness.

Felt the fabric between them becoming so soaked that it no longer felt like any real barrier. He closed his eyes. Only for one second. In that second, he forced something back down.

Something close to breaking loose completely. Then he opened them. His gaze deeper than before. More certain. Something carrying the weight of seven years had been hidden there for a long time.

Now he was no longer trying to conceal it. His lips touched the hair where her head rested against his shoulder. Only lightly. His voice dropped as low as it could go. Rough. Tender in a way that nearly surprised even him.

“I heard you…” He said.

“I heard every sound…”

Then the hand that had been controlling her rhythm shifted. His thumb pressed lightly at her waist. Tracing a small circle there with almost painful precision. He slowed her again. Deliberately. Even more than before. Slow enough that every movement became concentrated. Certain.

Landing exactly where it was hardest for her to bear. Making her tremors grow finer against his shoulder. His chest remained pressed to hers. He could feel her heartbeat mixing with his. No longer able to tell which was faster. Which was more uneven.

He lowered his head. His lips brushed her ear. And the composed, elegant man who could no longer be called either angel or demon spoke in a voice she had never heard from him before. Completely unrestrained. “Anna…”

“Say my name…” Before she could say it, the slower, deeper rhythm began tormenting her again. Her lower body trembled beyond control.

Her abdomen tightened, forcing another wave of warmth from her. Hot again.

She could feel it. “Ah—ah…” The wet sounds between them grew clearer. Short. Repeated. Almost teasing in their rhythm. It felt so good. Every time she was with him, it felt so good.

Her small face remained buried against his neck. Tear tracks of arousal dampened her cheeks.

His skin was so hot. As though it might melt her. And her own body was hot too. Especially low in her abdomen. It was coming. She recognized the feeling now.

She knew how to tell. Her arms tightened around his shoulders. Holding him firmly. “Jef… haa… Jeffery…”

She said his name through trembling breath and a faint sob. “Ah—” The cry rose sharply.

Then her body gave way.

Warm fluid spilling from her in a small rush.

Not much. But she had already climbed close to heaven. He had not even entered her yet. And she had already climaxed once. Right when he asked her to say his name. Jeffery felt it. Directly. Her body suddenly tightened against him. The tremors through her waist and abdomen changed from scattered shivers into continuous waves. Uncontrollable. Rolling outward from her center.

Then came more heat.

Hotter than before. Wetter. Her release soaking through fabric that had already become completely damp. Scalding against him. As though her body had chosen that moment to give him every hidden truth at once.

He heard it too.

The wet sounds between them. Mixed with the breath escaping from where she had buried her face against his neck.

The combination sent a violent current through his entire spine. Then she said his name.

Trembling. Crying. Followed by that sharp cry. “Jeffery.” The sound of his own name became a key. Slipped perfectly into the last lock he was still holding closed. The instant she climaxed, his arms tightened around her. Pulled her completely against him.

His palm pressed along her back. Feeling the rapid, uncontrollable trembling of her body.

Feeling her weight soften into his chest.

A kind of trust more direct than speech. Giving him the most vulnerable, powerless version of herself. He said nothing. Simply held her there. Let her breathing slowly descend from the edge of that peak.

His hand moved gently across her back. Slowly. With a tenderness completely unlike his usual self. Almost aching. Her face remained hidden against his neck. He could feel the dampness there. The tears left by desire.

When he lowered his eyes, he caught a glimpse of them. The sight tightened something inside his chest. He could not name what.

Only felt it. Then he spoke. His voice low. Rough. Rolling from the deepest part of his throat. “Good girl.” His lips touched the top of her hair. Paused there. Light. And yet heavy with meaning. He had heard her.

He had heard the way she called his name. He had received it. Received everything. His hand moved down her spine. Settled firmly at her waist once more. His thumb rested against her hipbone. Feeling the faint tremors that still had not fully disappeared. Feeling her heat.

Feeling that the soaked fabric between them had completely lost any meaning as a barrier. His voice reached her ear again. Lower. Darker. The teasing smile was gone. Something more naked had replaced it.

Something that left no room to retreat.

“It’s still early.” His fingers caught the edge of the damp fabric between them. “Mmh… still early…” She answered softly. Neither of them was satisfied yet.

She knew his hand was removing the useless barrier.

Another wave of wet warmth gathered between her thighs.

A thin strand stretched there. Gleaming in the candlelight. Jeffery looked down. His gaze sank to a new depth.

Not the depth of thought. The depth of desire pressed against something deeper. Something naked in him now. No longer disguised. Weighted with seven years.

His fingers slowly moved the fabric aside. No hurry. Almost deliberately slow. But this time, it was not meant to torment her.

This slowness carried something solemn. The cloth shifted aside.

Her heat was fully exposed between them. The fine strand broke against his fingertips. He felt her temperature. How wet she was. How hot. How honest. His throat moved. Then he loosened his own underwear.

His hardness slipped free of its restraint.

Carrying the heat accumulated throughout the entire night.

Damp. Heavy with pressure. He rested against her entrance without pushing in. Only there. Letting their heat mix. Letting her feel his size. The swollen shape. What her body would have to receive. The curve at his mouth was no longer cruel. It had become something gentler. Tender. Almost protective.

And yet still carrying everything he had restrained for too long and no longer needed to restrain. One hand rose to cradle her face. His thumb brushed across the still-damp tear marks on her cheek.

The touch treated her like something precious enough that he was afraid to use too much force. He bent his head. Pressed his lips lightly to the outer corner of her eye. Kissed away the moisture there. Then his hand moved from her cheek to the back of her waist.

Supported her firmly. Adjusted her position until she aligned with him perfectly. Still, he did not rush.

He let her feel him resting against the softest, wettest place.

Let him slide lightly there once. Let her own wetness coat him. The gesture held an almost cruel tenderness. “Anna…” He called her name. His amber eyes looked directly into hers.

Letting her see him clearly. Letting her see what the calm, composed man looked like in front of her now. “Look at me.” The heat pressing against her was impossible for Anna to ignore. A few soft sounds escaped her.

Almost petulant. She knew he was about to give her what she wanted. But she still wanted to preserve the smallest shred of modesty. So she lowered herself slightly. Letting only a little of that heat enter her. Then she stopped. And looked at him. She trusted that he understood.

That this was an invitation.

She only waited for the moment he finally moved. Waited for the sound he would fail to hold back. That tiny movement.

Barely any pressure. Soft. Almost coy. The hot tip pressed only slightly into her wetness.

So shallow it was hardly more than the outline of an opening. And yet her body responded immediately. The soft muscles tightened faintly around him. Testing. Welcoming. Then she raised her eyes. Looked at him.

The instant Jeffery felt the wet heat of her body surround the very tip of him, the sensation was like a heated needle pushed directly into the center of his nerves.

Hot. Slippery. Tight. His abdomen contracted sharply. His jaw set. His brows lowered.

His gaze turned so deep that, for one instant, it seemed there was nowhere she could escape it. She looked at him with those eyes. Holding onto the last little fragment of modesty she had.

Offering that silent invitation. And the final taut string of reason inside him broke without a sound. His hand tightened steadily behind her waist. He exhaled.

The breath escaped between his teeth, carrying the weight of everything he had held down all night. Then he lifted his hips. Slowly. But without the slightest uncertainty. Pushing deeper.

He felt her wet heat envelop him little by little. Felt the soft muscles tighten around him as he entered.

The sensation travelled from his waist into his spine. Into bone. Sending a tremor along his entire back that he could not suppress. The sound finally escaped him. He could not hold it in. A rawness he had never allowed her to hear this clearly before. “Mmh—”

His forehead lowered against hers.

His eyes closed for an instant. The man who was always so calm paused completely once he was fully inside her.

His breathing held tight. Every part of him trembling. At the same moment his voice broke free, Anna made a sound too. The sensation belonged to both of them. “Ah…” She drew in a deep breath. Felt him filling her inch by inch.

Her body trembled. Their foreheads remained together until he was seated as deeply as possible.

Her hands rested on his shoulders. She adjusted her waist slightly into a position where she could move more easily. Her eyes remained on his.

So close she felt as though she could see his soul. His voice had gone rough in a way that reminded her of a beast finally released. It shook something deep inside her. She leaned forward. Her lips touched his. Not to kiss. To speak against them.

“Every time, you make that sound…” Before the sentence had completely ended, her hips had already begun to move. So he did not have to do anything to feel himself sliding within her.

She knew how to ride this horse now. Knew how deep she could go before his brows tightened. Knew which angle made his hand move across her back. She remembered all of it. “I love you…” Only those three words. But her body expressed far more than the sentence did. His arms tightened abruptly.

Pulled her whole body against him. Pressed her chest closer.

Let her hips keep moving inside the space his arms created. Let her continue searching for the angle that made his brows draw together. He did not stop her. He let her. Gave himself completely to every detail she had so carefully remembered.

His lips moved beside her ear.

The roughness in his voice no longer hidden at all. It rose and fell with every movement she made.

“Anna… I love you too…” He had never said those words in that voice. As though they had been held inside his chest for too long.

And now that they were finally spoken, there was no taking them back.

His hips began moving with hers. Following her rhythm. Deeper. Letting her feel that he was moving too.

Turning the motion into something belonging to both of them. Every movement carrying the weight of those words. Their breathing echoed through the room.

Mixed with the occasional scrape of the sofa legs shifting against the floor as the movement above became too vigorous to keep it still. In the end, Anna collapsed against Jeffery. Her face buried against his neck.

Even her voice became muffled there. She had been completely overwhelmed. The wetness scattered beneath them was proof.

She had climaxed again and again. Been loved again and again.

Jeffery did not change their position.

She wanted to stay above him. So he let her. Because this way, her weight could rest completely over him. Let him remain buried as deeply as possible. “Haa… ah… I can’t anymore…” She whispered.

Her voice carried both sweetness and the exhausted softness of someone thoroughly spent. He felt the deeper tremors inside her after so many climaxes.

The soft muscles tightening delicately around him. So wet that every movement carried a smooth, clinging sensation. He knew she was waiting.

Saving the last of her strength for that moment. For him. His breathing had completely escaped control now.

Deep. Fast. Rising in waves from his chest.

His arms tightened around her. Palm pressed to her back. Feeling the heat of her body. Feeling her heartbeat and his merge into one rhythm in this close position. His hips drove deeper. The final movements. Deep. Each one reaching as far inside as possible.

Making her body tilt slightly forward from the impact. Letting all her weight rest over him. As though there were no space left between them at all. Then he lowered his head. Pressed his lips to the side of her neck. Caught the skin there lightly between his teeth.

That moment was silent. And yet it was the moment he lost control most completely.

His body pressed deeply into hers and stopped. A violent tremor spread from his spine into his limbs.

Every muscle tightening at once. A low sound forced itself from his chest. Heavy. Unrestrained. Finally arriving. He climaxed. His arms pulled her so tightly against him that it almost felt as though he wanted to draw her into his own body.

The force was not possession.

It was something more instinctive. Something left behind after reason disappeared. The need to keep her there. “Mmh—Anna—”

Her name escaped him without thought. He wanted her in his arms. On his body. In the place he had spent seven years trying to find. A long time passed before his breathing slowly descended again.

His chest gradually steadied. But his arms never loosened. He did not let her move away. His lips shifted from the side of her neck to the top of her hair. Rested there gently. Like a signature. Like a silent confirmation when there were no more words he could give. The candle flame trembled once.

And in the room, only the sound of their breathing remained.

Slowly overlapping. Slowly settling into the quiet.