I stayed.
The word had barely left Tristan’s mouth before I was pulling him back down to me. There was no more hesitation left in my body—only the desperate, aching need to be closer. His mouth claimed mine again, deeper this time, and the bond between us roared to life like it had been waiting for permission.
We shifted on the bed until I was lying beneath him, his weight braced carefully on his forearms so he wouldn’t crush me. One of his hands slid into my hair, tilting my head just enough to deepen the kiss. The other traced a slow path down my side, resting at my waist like he was grounding himself.
I could feel how much he was holding back.
“Tristan,” I whispered against his lips.
He pulled away just far enough to look at me. His eyes were pure gold, glowing faintly in the dark.
