Page 80 of Mystic's Sunrise

So I kissed her hair, wrapped her tighter in my arms, and gave her the only truth I could offer. “It damn sure was.”

And as I held her, breath still uneven, heart still raw, I prayed I would never have to let go.

***

I WOKE UPto the feeling of her. Soft. Warm.Curled against me like she belonged there. Like she always had.

For a second, I just laid there. Breathing her in. Letting the weight of her in my arms burn away all the shit clawing at the edges of my mind.

But it wasn’t enough.

Would never be enough.

Need hit me hard—hot and brutal—the second I shifted and felt her body press closer me. The way she fit against me, bare skin sliding against mine, lit the fuse that was still glowing since last night.

I moved before I could talk myself out of it. My hand sliding up her thigh, over the curve of her hip, finding the dip of her waist and pulling her tighter against me.

She stirred, a soft sound escaping her throat—a sleepy, broken little whimper that went straight to my cock, and fuck, I wasn’t gonna be gentle this time. Couldn’t.

Not when everything inside me was clawing to claim her in a way that no one could ever take away. Not when I needed to feel her come apart around me again—this time because she wanted it rough, because she trusted me enough to take it.

I kissed the back of her neck, slow at first, dragging my mouth over her skin, breathing her in like she was oxygen and I was starving for it. Her body arched into mine, silent invitation, and I answered it with a low growl that rumbled straight from my chest.

"Zeynep," I muttered against her skin, my voice rough and wrecked with the weight of everything I felt.

She tried to turn toward me, but I pinned her down with my body, holding her there, chest to back, hips grinding slow and deliberate against her ass.

"Stay just like that," I rasped, my hand sliding between her thighs, finding her slick and ready, and fuck me, if that didn’t make me lose whatever was left of my control.

She gasped, hips pushing back against me, and I swore under my breath, lining myself up and sinking into her in one long, slow thrust that left us both shaking.

She cried out, her fingers scrambling for something to hold on to, and I caught her wrist, pinning it above her head, locking her to me with nothing but my hand and my body.

"That’s it," I growled, thrusting deeper, harder, until the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, raw and primal and fucking perfect. "Take it, sweetheart. Take all of me."

She did. God, she did.

She took every rough thrust, every broken sound ripped from my throat, every shattered promise in the way my body claimed hers. And when she shattered again, trembling and gasping my name like it was the only thing she remembered, I followed her over the edge, burying myself so deep inside her it felt like I could finally breathe again.

I collapsed against her, still holding her pinned beneath me, our bodies slick with sweat, hearts hammering against each other like fists against a locked door.

For a long time, I didn’t move. Didn’t say a word.

Just stayed buried inside her, breathing hard, my body still wrapped around hers like some part of me thought if I let go, she’d vanish. I wasn’t gentle about it. Wasn’t soft.

I held her there, skin to skin, heart to heart, and for the first time in a lifetime of fuckups and broken promises, I knew exactly what the hell I wanted.

Her.

Only her.

***

THE SUN BROKEinto the room like it ownedthe place, quiet, warm, and just honest enough to piss me off.

I blinked against it, groggy as hell, my body relaxed in all the right ways. Her scent clung to the sheets. To me. Something like citrus and sex—Zeynep.

And fuck, I’d never forget it.