The room was still.
Only the sound of their breathing remained—shallow, uneven, tangled in the warm hush around them.
She remained straddling him, her thighs trembling around his waist, her chest pressed to his. Her forehead rested against his shoulder, lips parted against his neck, breath ghosting hot across his skin.
She hadn’t moved. Didn’t want to.
Her body was still pulsing—slow waves rolling through her like the aftershocks of something tectonic.
His hands gripped her hips, holding her there even now. Not to keep her close. Just to remind himself she was real.
He remained inside her, unmoving, his breath caught somewhere between awe and disbelief.
And he didn’t know where he ended and she began.
Neither of them spoke.
There was no need.
Her cheek stayed against his throat.
