So this was what it meant to be intimate with your mate. I opened my eyes slowly, languidly, as though my body had forgotten urgency.
Pleasure still hummed beneath my skin, a low, satisfied thrum that made even breathing feel indulgent. My limbs were heavy, loose, pleasantly sore, as if every muscle had been stretched and claimed and then carefully set back into place.
I turned my head slightly, the sheets whispering against my skin, and a soft sound escaped me before I could stop it—half sigh, half memory.
Heat curled low in my belly again, uninvited but welcome.
The intimacy replayed itself without mercy. Adam's strength. His relentless focus. The way his restraint had finally shattered, the way he had said my name like it was both a prayer and a curse. It hadn't dulled with time.
If anything, it had sharpened. Being lifemates had made it worse—better—more consuming than it had ever been when I had been Maya.
