Page 89 of The Cuddle Clause

For a long minute, all I could hear was the sound of us breathing—ragged, uneven, wrecked.

I eased out and collapsed beside her, dragging her with me until she was half sprawled on my chest. Her skin was hot, sticky, and I didn’t care.

“Beautiful,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair. “So fucking beautiful.”

She traced lazy patterns over my chest, her touch sparking little aftershocks through my muscles despite how drained I was.

I didn’t care if the sheets got wet or if the world outside had kept spinning. Didn’t care that the bed was a mess. All that mattered was the feel of her tangled around me, flushed and sated.

All I cared about was Maggie, next to me.

She dragged her fingers through my chest hair, drawing shapes only she could see. Her breathing had slowed, but she wasn’t asleep yet. I could feel the quiet awareness still in her, that warm, dreamy space between euphoria and rest.

I stared at the ceiling and let the words rise up before I could talk myself out of them. “I’ve never felt like this before. Not with anyone.”

She didn’t say anything, but her hand stilled, palm flat against my ribs.

“You’re not just important to me,” I said. “You’re everywhere. I feel you everywhere. Like—” I let out a shaky breath, searching for the words. “You regulate my nervous system just by being in the room.”

She raised her head and cupped my face, stroking my cheek with her thumb. Gentle. Steady. Like she knew what those words cost me.

“Roman…” Her voice was softer now, almost hesitant. “Can I ask you something?”

I hummed, trying to play it cool even though her touch made my pulse thrum.

“What doesmatingreally mean? I mean, these couples that actually do it… the real deal. What does that look like? Are they magically tethered for life? Is it… breakable? Does it take away your autonomy?”

I stared at her. She wasn’t fishing for romance—she genuinely wanted to understand.

I let out a slow breath. “It’s supposed to be real. Not a performance for politics or magic quotas. It’s… a bond. Deeper than any vow, any marriage. Yeah, it tethers you. Magic in the blood, in the bones. You feel each other. You carry each other.”

Her brows knit slightly. “So, it’s forever?”

“Yeah. Even death doesn’t really break it. That’s why it’s a gift. It’s supposed to be beautiful. Something you choose because you can’tnot. It’s not meant to trap you or make you less yourself—it’s supposed to make you more. Stronger. Connected.” I paused, my throat tight. “But only if it’s real.”

She looked at me like she was cataloging every word and weighing it against something in her own head. “I feel… seen. Safe. Like I can be myself around you, too. No shrinking. No pretending.”

My throat closed up again, because that was everything I’d ever wanted to give someone and never believed I could.

I kissed her hand, and she settled back down, snuggling against my chest. She hitched her leg around my hips and wrapped her arm around my waist.

There was no rush. No pressure. Just hands tracing skin and breaths being shared. Her smile curved against my ribs every time I touched the back of her knee with my knuckles. She knew every move before I made it. And I never wanted to stop learning hers.

The air between us was full of unspoken things, but not the heavy kind. Not the anxious, foreboding kind.

The good kind.

The I-want-to-stay-in-this-moment-forever kind.

But forever was a lie tonight, because my brain wouldn’t stop. Not even with her curled into my side like she belonged there. Not even with peace in my arms.

Lucien’s words came back like poison in the bloodstream.

As soon as possible.Lucien probably expected us to be mated already, and I had no idea how to even broach the subject with Maggie. We were supposed to have more time. I was supposed to have come up with a plan.

Her lips parted slightly as she started to drift off, and her fingers dug into my skin as I shifted slightly beneath her.

Maggie didn’t know what that bite meant. What it would bind her to. What kind of magic lived in blood and teeth and instinct. I wouldn’t force her into it. Not for politics. Not to stay in the pack. Not even to keep her.