Mara’s POV
The kiss lingers in my mouth long after we break apart.
Not the taste—him—but the decision of it. The moment where restraint finally gave way to need, and neither of us pretended it was an accident.
Declan doesn’t move away.
Neither do I.
The kitchen light is too bright for what I’m feeling, too ordinary, like the world hasn’t noticed that something fundamental just shifted. He reaches up and turns it off, plunging the room into a softer darkness lit only by the city glow through the windows.
Better.
His hand returns to my waist, not possessive, not urgent. Just there. Anchoring.
“You’re shaking,” he murmurs.
“So are you.”
He exhales a quiet laugh, breath warm against my cheek. “I’m trying very hard not to rush you.”
“I didn’t say stop.”
That earns me a look—sharp, h
