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I blacked out as I came.

It was better than any orgasm I’d ever had—and that was saying a lot. It was like a hundred orgasms stacked on top of each other. It was like sinking slowly into a hot bath, like an embrace, like the most delicious glass of wine I’d ever had. My entire body melted beneath him. Pliant. Knocked flat by desire and pleasure.

I kept my ankles crossed behind Steph’s back. His teeth were still buried in my neck as he came hard, his cock pulsing inside me as he spilled his release. I raked my fingers through hishair, holding him close as he claimed me. Blood slid down my shoulder onto the sheets.Romantic, I thought in a dizzy daze of pleasure.

Steph released my neck. He was still buried inside me as he drew his tongue over the wound, lapping up the blood. The skin tingled as it healed, the process sped up by his shifter magic.

Then, I felt it.

It was like a candle had been lit somewhere deep in my chest. A small, flickering flame.

I gasped.

The bond.

“I feel it,” I whispered. “Steph, I feel it. I feelyou.”

That’s what it was. A feeling of real, tangible connection between us. I was feeling my emotions, but notonlymy emotions. I felt love, and pride, and possessiveness, and joy… And it was all coming from Steph.

“I feel you, too,” Steph whispered against my neck. “It’s different than before. Stronger.” He sighed dreamily. “Feels like…”

“Like coming home.”

“Like home,” he agreed.

I caught his lips in another kiss. It was still deep, and tasted a little coppery from my own blood. Somehow that only made my heart beat harder. It was passionate, without the intense hunger we’d both felt before.

We lay like that, tangled together until we both caught our breath. With some reluctance, Steph finally pulled out of me, and I whimpered at the loss.

“Come on,” he murmured. “Let’s clean up your bite.”

“You already cleaned it, right?” I complained. My legs felt like jelly. There was no way this man was expecting me to stand up right now.

“I helped it heal,” he said. “That’s not exactly cleaning it. We’re not in the twelfth century anymore.”

“Dragons still have rituals from the twelfth century?”

“Of course we do.” Steph stood up—he was a little shaky himself—then scooped me up into a bridal carry. “One of those is cleaning up our fated mates after we claim them.”

I nuzzled closer to his chest. “Fine. As long as you carry me.”

He did. He carried me into the bathroom, then lowered me into the tub. He washed me clean with such care I nearly fell asleep right there in his arms. When he helped me out, he guided me to the bathroom counter. I stood up, leaning back against his chest for support. Steph reached around me and wiped the steam from the mirror.

He swept my hair aside and whispered, “Look.”

There, right where I had imagined it, was a beautiful mating bite. The skin was already healed: a fresh, shiny pink. I reached up and traced the shape of his teeth in my skin. The mark tingled and made me shiver.

“What do you think?” Steph asked.

I met his eyes in the mirror. There was a small, unsure furrow in his brow. It was like he’d bought me a fancy necklace and was now afraid he’d picked the wrong one.

It was adorable. I turned around in his arms. “It’s perfect. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Then it suits you,” he said with a smile.

He kissed me. Love vibrated through our bond in an infinite loop.

My mate. My home.