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I was desperate to be in her, feel the connection of our bodies.

I wanted to ravage and worship her all at once.

My hands moved around her back, unclasping the bra with a muscle memory I'd honed from all our years together, and when I pulled the fabric away, she was stunning, bare and vulnerable in a way that stole my breath.

I took my time, allowing myself to simmer in the self-inflicted torment. As much as I wanted to ravage her, I couldn’t ignore the slow, undeniable pull of our bodies drawing together. I wanted her to feel pleasure in ways I had never given her.

I traced my tongue along her breastbone, kissed the soft curve of her chest, felt her tremble against me as her fingers curled around the back of my neck.

She let out a low, shaky breath as I brought her nipple into my mouth, sucking gently, hands keeping her steady.

I chuckled at the way she squirmed under my teasing.

She gasped, her head falling back, exposing her throat. My name spilled from her lips. “Levi…”

My name from her lips? Good fucking god it undid me .

I lifted her, cradling her against my chest, and carried her into the living room where the lights were dim and the house was quiet, save for the soft hum of the dishwasher, swish of the ceiling fan, and the distant sound of sirens.

We didn’t speak as I laid her down gently on the couch, her blouse undone, her jeans pulled slowly from her hips. She looked like a siren, no, a goddess, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

Her brow furrowed, a flicker of concern in her voice. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re beautiful,” I said, barely able to get the words out.

A soft, shy blush bloomed across her cheeks. Then she reached for me, urgent, tugging at my clothes like she needed me bare, needed me near, needed me .

Our hands trembled, betraying the need that burned beneath our skin as we kissed each other with the kind of hunger only desperation brings.

"Levi, skip the dirty talk tonight. I want you."

"Whatever my mistress desires."

She chucked at that. When she reached for me through my boxers to pull me out, I felt the last of my control unravel. Breathing through my restraint, I entered her slowly, feeling everything in that moment of longing, my heart aching for her.

Her eyes stayed locked on mine, dark with want then darker with need.

Moving in and out of her, I leaned in and kissed her, slow at first, but she met me with urgency, arms wrapping around my neck as her tongue slid into my mouth.

Her kiss felt like a question, asking if I was real, if I was there, if I was hers .

I kissed her back with all the answers, telling her in ways only our bodies could understand that she was my everything, I was hers, she was mine.

"Mine," I growled.

She laughed, the sound loud in the quiet of the room, "Yes my primitive mate. Yours." Her voice curled around the word like a tease.

I groaned against her mouth, "Even your mockery gets me off."

She tilted her head back, smiling beneath me, and I caught her mouth again, swallowing the sound of her amusement as it dissolved into something heavier and hungrier.

“I want to feel all of you, Sloane,” I murmured into the heat of her skin. “No more distance. No more pretending.”

I moved inside her with a forced slowness as my forehead rested against hers.

Our fingers locked above her head as our breaths synced: shallow, shared.

We moved together in perfect harmony for a long while, each thrust a promise, a needful benediction that I never wanted to end.

Eventually, the pressure built, more and more, nearly too much to contain.

"Levi, can I come?" The way she asked, the submissiveness of her request… I lost the last shred of control.

“Fuck yes, Sloane,” I growled, my voice hoarse with need. “Come all over my cock. Let me feel you lose it for me.”

She shattered beneath me, her body trembling as release tore through her. Her body clenched around me, tight and pulsing, drawing me deeper, dragging me over the edge with her.

Her cry was lost in a kiss we crashed into, and only then, only when I felt her fall, did I finally let go and fall with her.

Inside that moment together, we weren’t husband and wife. We weren’t betrayer and betrayed. There was no past, no scarred life to trip over. We were simply two people who had once belonged to each other, meeting again at the edge of something half-remembered and holy.

After, we collapsed together, tangled and exhausted. The room was quiet; the dishwasher had long ago finished its load. The only sound was the soft swishing of the ceiling fan and the steady rhythm of our breaths.

She curled into me, her head resting on my chest, one leg hooked over my hip as if she needed the contact to believe this wasn't a dream.

I held her close, my fingers tracing slow, absent-minded patterns along her arm, grounding both of us in a silence that didn’t need to be filled.

"I love you," I said, a vow to her.

The silence stretched and finally, finally , her voice broke through, soft and fragile.

"I love you too, Levi."