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He slowly curls his fingers, and I am instantly consumed by a burst of light.

My body arches off the chaise, a loud moan ripping out of me.

Pins and needles course through my entire body as my orgasm washes over me like wave.

Every sensation is amplified, from the warmth of his touch to the tightening of my inner muscles.

His fingers continue their expert movements, prolonging my release until I finally collapse, breathless and spent.

A surge of euphoria floods through me, leaving a dizzying warmth in its wake. I’ve never known such bliss, and in this moment, I’m thankful I waited to share it with Myall.

He softly presses his lips to mine before pulling away, gaze locking with mine. His eyes are soft, a reflection of the longing, desire, and something deeper—love—shines through in his gaze.

“Are you ready?” he says, his voice low and husky, thick with anticipation. He presses another gentle kiss to my swollen lips, his touch tender and teasing.

“Yes,” I nod, gripping the edge of the chaise for support. “Please, Myall, I can’t take it anymore.” I want more. I need more.

Every nerve in my body is on fire. Slowly removing his fingers from inside me, he positions himself at my entrance. He brushes a stray lock of hair from my face and I can smell myself on his fingers—musky and slightly sweet.

“We’ll go at your pace, and if you ever want to stop, we will,” he assures me as he meets my gaze.

I know, without a doubt, that if I told him to stop, he would do so without a second thought. But I trust him completely, with every part of me. I nod, my gaze locked on his, my heart beating in sync with his.

With excruciating slowness, he enters me, inch by agonizing inch. I bite my lip, trying to muffle the moans threatening to escape. His size is almost unbearable, stretching me in the most delicious way possible. His eyes remain locked on mine, silently gauging my reaction.

I let out a strangled cry of pleasure-pain as he bottoms out, our hips flush against each other.

“Ziva,” he whispers, voice tight. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” I moan, my breath coming in short, shallow bursts.

This is more than I expected. The feeling is indescribable—a mix of pain and pleasure that makes my entire body ache with longing.

“Keep going,” I beg, rocking my hips against his, craving more friction.

My heart thumps steadily, matching the rhythm of Myall’s movements within me. Each thrust of his hips is a perfectly coordinated dance of slow thrusts and sudden surges. My legs instinctively wrap around him, drawing him closer as we move together, the chaise shuddering beneath us.

“Oh gods,” I moan, my voice trembling with pleasure as he pulls out and slams back in. “Again.”

He complies, slowly pulling out, almost fully withdrawn before slamming back in. A guttural moan escapes my parted lips as he continues to repeat the motion until his movements begin to become unsteady.

“Ziva,” he pants in my ear, breath warm against my cheek, “I can’t hold on much longer.”

Breath catching in my throat, I gasp, “Neither can I,” as my inner muscles tense with each powerful thrust.

Myall’s mouth finds mine and we kiss hungrily. He moans, mouth mostly missing mine. With each erratic movement, the edge draws closer.

With one last thrust, he plunges deep inside me. A powerful wave of pleasure consumes me as his name escapes my lips in a strangled moan. My body convulses, my inner muscles tightening around his length. My entire being is overtaken by the overwhelming sensations as I climax.

We lie there for a few moments as we catch our breath. Myall gently withdraws, lying down beside me on the chaise. His skin warm against mine, his breathing equally ragged. Our bodies are clammy with sweat, and the heady, musky scent of him fills the air.

His arm rests around me, and I can feel the steady rhythm of his heart. This quiet is strange—almost tangible, as if we’ve crossed some unspoken threshold we can’t unwrite. But for once, it doesn’t feel unsettling. It feels like we’ve found exactly where we belong.

“I love you,” he whispers, pressing gentle kisses to my lips, his eyes locked on mine, full of tenderness and unguarded emotion.

“I love you too,” I whisper, my voice raw and tender as the words spill out.

For a long moment, neither of us speaks, the quiet stretching between us like a delicate thread.

His breath against my ear is the only sound I can hear, slow and steady, grounding me.

I close my eyes, letting the silence sink into my bones.

I’ve never been one to trust easily, never known how to let anyone close.

But now, in the warmth of his arms, I understand something I’ve denied for too long: my love for him isn’t just an act of defiance against The Authority.

It’s a quiet act of rebellion against every fear I’ve been taught to carry.

My fingers trace slow, lazy circles on his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a grounding pulse beneath my palm.

The air around us is thick with the weight of forgotten years, and I can almost taste the musty remnants of old velvet on my tongue as I shift my body to face him, my hand resting against his chest.

“I can’t believe we waited so long for this,” I whisper into the crook of his neck.

Myall’s fingers weave through my hair, sending shivers of delight down my spine.

“It was worth the wait,” he murmurs, eyes meeting mine.

Nodding, I rest my cheek against his chest. It was more than worth it. Every moment of anticipation, every stolen glance, every touch that left me wanting more—they all led up to this perfect moment.

“I just wish we didn’t have to hide,” I whisper, a pang of sadness tightening in my chest, my voice trembling slightly.

Myall’s fingers trace the line of my jaw, his touch steady but soft. “I know,” he whispers, his voice thick. “I’ve been afraid too. Afraid of losing you, of everything we’ve fought for slipping through our fingers. But right now, it feels like it’s all been worth it. You’re worth it, Ziva.”

I prop myself up on an elbow, studying his face in the dim light. “I was so afraid too,” I confess, the words tumbling out. “Of losing you, of never getting the chance to show you how I feel.”

His hand cups my cheek, his thumb brushing across my skin. “Ziva, you’ve always shown me. Every act of rebellion, every risk you’ve taken—it’s all been for us, for a future where we can be together freely.”

My eyes sting with unshed tears, the weight of his words heavy yet liberating. “But what if we don’t make it? What if The Authority—”

“Hey,” Myall interrupts gently, pulling me closer, his breath warm against my skin. “We’re in this together, remember? Whatever comes, we face it side by side.”

Nodding, I bury my face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of him—earthy and familiar.

“I love you, Myall,” I whisper, the words feeling both terrifying and liberating each time that I say them. “I love you, and I don’t want to wait to be together anymore.”

His arms tighten around me. “I love you too, Ziva. More than I ever thought possible.”

I want to let go, to forget everything for just a moment and stay here forever, wrapped in his arms. But the world outside this room is still there.

“Whatever comes,” he says again pulling me closer, “we’ll face it together. I promise.” His words settle over me like a comforting warmth, and for the first time in a long while, I let myself believe—deep down—that maybe we can survive this, together.