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She nods, the movement barely perceptible. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears, lips trembling with unspoken confessions.

"Yes," she admits, voice barely audible over the water. "Every time you touch me."

I drive deeper, rolling my hips with a slowness that feels like worship. Her breath catches. Her thighs tighten around me.

"I'm not just inside you," I murmur, my voice cracking open with raw honesty. "I'm with you."

Her eyes flutter closed briefly, overwhelmed, but I can't let her retreat. Not now. Not when we're this vulnerable. This real.

"Look at me," I command softly.

She does. And fuck, I nearly come just from the expression in her eyes.

"You're not just sex to me, Luna," I confess. "You never were."

Her lips part, and I can feel her heart beating in perfect rhythm with mine—a synchronicity that defies explanation.

"I know," she whispers. "That's what scares me."

Instead of answering with words, I kiss her—not hard or demanding, but with a depth that speaks everything I'm not ready to say. All truth and tenderness and trembling need.

Her arms wrap tighter around my neck, legs locked at the small of my back, as I continue moving—deep, controlled thrusts that leave her gasping each time I fill her completely.

"You're so perfect like this," I praise against her lips. "So fucking beautiful falling apart in my arms."

She cries out—soft, broken.

When I feel her start to tremble again, when her fingers dig crescents into my shoulders and her hips begin to rock more insistently against mine?—

I hold her closer. Kiss her harder. And fuck her like nothing in the world could ever matter more than this moment, this connection, this woman.

Because right now? She's everything I never knew I needed.

She's trembling in my arms, back pressed against the cool tile, legs wrapped tight around my waist. Her eyes never leave mine, seeing the monster and somehow finding him worthy.

Her hands frame my face, fingers still stained with colors that refuse to wash away. I thrust into her with deliberate precision—deep, measured, worshipful. Like I have eternity to show her what she does to me. Like she isn't completely destroying me from the inside out.

Her breath catches with each thrust. Her body clenches around me. And I feel it building—that cliff I've pushed her toward before. But this time, I don't want to watch her fall alone.

"I've got you," I promise, voice rough with emotion. "Eyes on me, baby. Don't look away."

Her gaze holds mine—unwavering, vulnerable, filled with everything I've spent my life believing I didn't deserve.

I press deeper. Harder. But never rough. This isn't about dominance anymore.

This is surrender. On both our parts.

"You feel that?" I whisper, forehead pressed to hers. "That's us. You and me. There's nothing else."

Her nails dig into my shoulders. Her breath breaks on a gasp that sounds almost like my name.

"I can't—" she chokes out, body trembling. "I'm gonna?—"

"Let go." The words come out reverently. Wrecked. "Right here, Luna. While my cock is buried deep inside you. While you look at me like I'm the only man who's ever touched you."

And then—she does exactly that.

She comes undone in my arms, body seizing around me, lips parting on a cry that's half a sob. It's like watching stars collapse and form anew. Her head falls forward until our foreheads touch, and she whispers my name like a prayer meant only for my ears.