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Zynara loomed over her, powerful arms either side of Lottie’s shoulders, her thigh pressed hard against Lottie’s core.

Lottie grinded against her, her feet drilling into the mattress, her hips driving up to keep their rhythm.

Zynara was making her work for it. She looked down between their bodies and snarled a vicious smile.

“Come on, zin dyali ,” she crooned. “You can do better than that. Don’t you want what I’m giving you?”

Lottie groaned, and Zynara dropped her head to nip at her shoulder. It was a punishment, but it was delicious and it crinkled all of Lottie’s skin. She threw her head back, not thinking, not caring that it would expose her throat.

“Mmm,” Zynara sighed. “Perfect.” And she grazed her teeth over that wonderful spot below Lottie’s chin. She was hot and greedy—god knew where their promise to be careful had gone—and Lottie wanted more, but Zynara rose up to watch her again.

Lottie’s rocking became erratic. She opened her knees wider. She thrust with her hips. She was slick all over Zynara’s thigh and the sound of it was sinful, but it wasn’t enough.

“I need—” she tried—and shut her mouth instantly. Just the act of begging wound her even tighter. She screwed her eyes shut and concentrated on her hips.

“Yes, darling?”

“I need— Oh, god, please, I need your fingers—”

The dip of the mattress shifted as Zynara lifted one hand and pinched her nipple.

“Yes! More! Please!”

There was a merciless chuckle and Zynara moved again. She pulled her knee away from Lottie’s core and sat back on her heels.

“What?” Lottie’s eyes snapped open in confusion.

Then she threw her head back again as Zynara plunged two fingers inside her, squeezed her breast and bit down on her other nipple with perfect timing.

Her mouth was hard, her fingers curled like machines—and Lottie was flying at the top of the world in a moment.

“Can I come?” she begged, holding on for dear life.

“Can I—? Princess? God, Zynara! Niz! Fuck! Please say I can—”

Zynara looked up at her. Lottie was nearly gone, but there was adoration in Zynara’s eyes—and it was all for her. It was just as powerful as her fingers.

“In a moment,” Zynara drawled. “I want to taste it.” And she settled down between Lottie’s legs with a moan of her own.

She flicked the tip of her tongue against Lottie’s clit and laughed at the way her hips twitched.

She held her down with an arm across her chest and smiled, wolfishly.

“Come whenever you need to, zin dyali . It’s all for you.

” And she flattened her tongue against Lottie’s clit and devoured it with firm, hard circles, chasing her hips up off the bed as Lottie arched and shrieked and pitched over the edge into blinding pleasure.

Zynara kissed her way tenderly back up her body—navel, breasts, the hollow under her chin. Her lips.

Lottie tasted herself and love on Zynara’s lips, and the combination was beautiful.

“Again?” Zynara asked, gazing at her with a devotion Lottie had never thought could be hers. She laughed at Lottie’s weak groan. “What happened to unstoppable?”

Lottie idly swatted her shoulder, and instantly regretted it when Zynara flinched.

“You’re hurt,” she protested. “You shouldn’t be doing all the work.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Zynara grinned, “but the brush with death has made me urgent. I want you undone and I want it on my tongue.” She lay down beside her, and Lottie didn’t miss how gingerly she did it. Her Qasira was being brave. “Up you get,” she ordered.

It was clear what she wanted. She even suggested Lottie would need to grip the headboard, but Lottie had a better idea.

“Hey, science nerd,” she asked. “What’s your favourite number?”

There was a goofy snort—which Lottie loved just as much as she worshipped the overbearing princess—and Zynara’s thighs fell open of their own accord. Lottie kissed her first—wet, hard and messy—then climbed over her, and got to work.

Every hurt in Lottie’s body disappeared. Every doubt left her too.

There was the tickle of Zynara’s hair between her thighs and at her lips. There was a hot, hungry mouth on her pussy and the taste of Zynara’s cunt on her tongue. Lottie had never believed in heaven, but she’d found it, deep within the woman who writhed beneath her.

Zynara thrust upwards with her hips and Lottie chased her back down again.

Zynara wrapped her arms around Lottie’s thighs and ate her out with a ragged eagerness that made Lottie’s whole body shake.

She smothered her face in Zynara’s heat.

She strained to hold herself above her queen, and then surrendered everything when Zynara hauled her down.

She lost her mind over the knowledge that Zynara wanted this—wanted her—wholeheartedly and without hesitation. That Zynara trusted her. Her! Lottie Finch.

She wanted to lick and kiss and devour her Qasira all the way to ecstasy and all the way back down again.

She wanted to do it forever.

The adrenaline of the day fired them both and accelerated the synchronised dance of their hips, the beats of their hearts.

They were electric—they were hydrogen fuel burning with the heat of the sun—a thousand suns—and it lifted them from the ground and shot them into the sky.

They left the world behind in a blur of colour and song.

They burned. They cried. And with two staggering moans that almost cancelled each other out, they tore euphoria from each other, gifting it, taking it, in wave after immense wave of pleasure and promise—and trust—and it was perfect.

Lottie lay on her back, tangled in the rumpled sheets of Zynara’s massive bed, and stared up at the ornate ceiling, too tired to move. Her skin still burned where Zynara had touched her. Kissed her. Owned her. Her body was a wreck of pleasure and her heart a more dangerous mess still.

Zynara was half-asleep beside her, one arm thrown possessively over Lottie's stomach, her hair mussed, her expression soft.

Lottie studied her in the half-light. Every line. The scratches and bruises from today’s ordeal. Every wondrous curve. Each perfect eyelash.

It was so much. It was terrifying. She wanted Zynara, but if she was honest, she wanted the warm, close sense of family and home that was here too. Zynara had so little family left and Lottie had none at all—but together they could create a new one. It was everything she'd never known she wanted.

And it was going to change her entire life. Lottie was poised on a precipice.

They both were.

It had never felt so good to know she could jump with someone who loved her.

Quietly, she brushed the very tips of her fingers over Zynara’s bare shoulder. Zynara stirred but didn’t wake.

"I’m staying," Lottie whispered into the dark, even if Zynara couldn’t hear her. "I’m yours, princess. I’m staying with you."

No missions. No orders. No bloody Circle. No Nightingale.

Just her Qasira.

Zynara’s hand twitched against her skin, and Lottie smiled, a real one, small and a little broken, but brave.

She turned her face to the pillow, tucked herself into the warmth of Zynara’s body, and let sleep finally claim her—her heart full for the first time in her life.

And if Malik was going to bring the terror, if the whole world was about to catch fire—she’d face it. They would face it. Together.