The air still smelled of warm skin—of fulfilled desire.
But not of satisfaction.
Because something still remained.
The three of us knew it.
I was still between them.
Lean cradled me, one hand resting on my hip, his chest rising and falling against my back.
The pulse of his mark still burned faintly in my mouth.
My taste was on him.
Kael was tracing soft lines along my arm with his fingertips,
but his eyes…
his eyes were pure, restrained fire.
There was no need to speak.
It was his turn.
I turned to him slowly, and I knew—
he had been waiting for me.
Not with urgency,
but with that unique blend of silent devotion and feral hunger.
“Do you want my mark too?” I whispered.
“I don’t want it,” he said, voice rough and low.
“I need it.”
I climbed onto him.
Slowly this time.
