Elara’s POV
(Trigger warning: This Chapter contains explicit content and is suitable for mature readers.)
His kiss devoured me.
There was nothing gentle about it. Nothing careful. His mouth moved against mine like he was starving—like those years apart had hollowed him out and only this could fill him back up.
I matched his hunger. My fingers clawed at his shirt, yanking the fabric free from his waistband. He broke the kiss long enough to pull it over his head, and I stared.
I always stared.
The broad shoulders. The tapered waist. Muscles carved from years of war and training, shifting beneath golden skin as he breathed. And the scars—silver lines crisscrossing his torso like a map of violence. Each one a story. Each one proof that he’d survived things that should have killed him.
"See something you like?" His voice was rough. Teasing. But his dark gold eyes burned with something far more dangerous than humor.
"Shut up," I breathed, and pulled him back down.
He laughed against my mouth—a low, dark sound that vibrated through my chest. Then his hands found the laces of my bodice. He didn’t untie them. He tore.
The fabric parted with a sound like a gasp. Cool air hit my skin. Then his palms—calloused, warm, impossibly large—slid up my ribs. Over my breasts. His thumbs dragged across my nipples and I arched into him with a sound I didn’t recognize.
"There she is," he murmured. His lips traced down my jaw. My throat. The hollow between my collarbones. "My beautiful mate."
My remaining clothes disappeared. I didn’t track how. One moment I was half-dressed and the next I was bare beneath him, his weight pressing me into the silk sheets, his knee between my thighs spreading me open.
He pulled back. Looked at me.
The lamplight caught his eyes—turning them molten. Predatory. His gaze traveled down my body with the slow deliberation of a hunter mapping territory. Every inch of exposed skin burned under that look.
"Kaelen—"
"Don’t rush me." His voice dropped. That commanding tone. The one that made something deep in my belly clench tight. "I’ve waited too long for this."
His mouth descended. Collarbone. The swell of my breast. He took one nipple between his lips and sucked—hard—and my spine bowed off the mattress.
"Oh—"
Lower. His tongue traced a wet line down my stomach. His hands gripped my hips, holding me still when I tried to writhe away from the intensity.
Lower still.
When his mouth found me, I shattered.
"Kaelen!" My hand fisted in his dark hair. "Oh, Moon Goddess—"
He didn’t stop. Didn’t ease up. His tongue worked me with devastating precision—flat strokes, then pointed, then that obscene sucking that made my thighs shake around his head. One finger slid inside me. Then two. Curling. Stretching.
"Please—I can’t—"
"You can." His breath was hot against my most sensitive flesh. "And you will. Again."
He was relentless. Merciless. He held me at the edge until tears gathered in my eyes, until my voice broke on his name, until my entire body trembled like a bowstring drawn too tight. Then he pushed me over.
I came apart. Completely. The pleasure crashed through me in violent waves, stealing my breath, my thoughts, everything.
Before the aftershocks faded, he rose over me. His body covered mine. I felt him—hard, thick, pressing against my entrance with a pressure that made my breath catch.
"You feel—" His jaw clenched. A muscle ticked in his throat. "Too fucking good. So tight." His hips withdrew, then snapped forward. "Mine."

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