The moment the door to his private cabin clicked shut, Alex pinned me against the wall. His mouth claimed mine unrestrained, and I let him. His hand gripped my neck, pulling me closer, while mine slid into his hair, savoring the softness between my fingers. I wanted nothing more but to be closer. To lose myself in him. Just as I did, time and time again.
The danger sharpened everything. We'd thought we had time. But now that my grandfather was awake, there was no telling what he'd do. Arturo would expose everything. My betrayal, our move on New York. We had planned for every scenario, but a man who ruled for decades was never predictable. We might have been flying straight into our own destruction.
I pulled back, fear suddenly tightening in my throat. Something wasn't right. The silence was starting to feel too heavy.
"What if we ran instead?"
Alex's brows drew together, his green eyes flashing with heat and concern. "What's wrong?"
"I'm scared, Alex," I admitted, the words finally breaking free. No one could stay strong forever. "I don't know if we'll survive this. Maybe I'm just overthinking—"
"Enough." His voice softened as he brushed his lips against mine, gentle but steady. "You've fought too hard and come too far to doubt yourself now. You deserve this."
"I'm terrified," I breathed, unable to keep the trembling in my voice.
He kissed me.
Not hard this time. Not desperate. Just firm enough to steal the air from my lungs and the doubt from my mouth. His hand slid from my jaw to cradle the back of my neck, thumb brushing beneath my ear like he was grounding me, anchoring me to something solid while the world threatened to tilt.
My breath hitched against him. I could feel it. The way he was holding himself together for me. The tension in his shoulders. The quiet fury beneath his calm.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine. Our breaths tangled, uneven.
"You don't get to fall apart now," he murmured, his voice low, almost breaking. "Not when we're already this close to finishing everything."
My fingers curled into his shirt, clutching him like armor. Once we've landed, things would've changed. Betrayal, bloodlines and war. But here, here was the eye of the storm.
"If we go down," I whispered against his mouth, "we go down together."
His lips curved, fierce and unwavering. "Together," he agreed.
And then he kissed me again, deeper this time. Like a vow sealed before battle.
His hands curved around my waist, strong and possessive, sliding beneath my thighs to lift me effortlessly. I instinctively curled my legs around his hips, fingers tangling in his dark hair at the nape of his neck as our mouths collided. Urgent and desperate, like the world was unraveling and we were the last to hold on.
My hips pressing fiercely against his, an aching hunger burning between us. His hard length pressing deep and demanding, a silent claim that set my skin on fire.
With a slow, deliberate reverence, he lowered me onto the bed. Those piercing green eyes darkening with fire as they drank me in. I propped myself up on my elbows, craving every inch of him as his lips traced a path down my neck. His fingers deftly undid the buttons of my pants, sliding them down with a hunger that matched my own.
"You're all I'll ever want," he whispered against my lips, voice thick with promise and need, "in this life...and the next. And every one after."
"Then don't die," I whispered, the rawest part of my soul exposed, trembling with fear. "Don't ever leave me. Not in this life, nor the next. And every one after."
He looked up at me from between my legs. A slow, knowing smile curving the edges of his lips. "I'll only keep that promise if you do the same, Princess."
His fingers dipped inside me before I could reply. Then another, then another. Pulsing, teasing, drawing out every drop of pleasure and heat. My breath hitched, a low moan escaping as my back arched, surrendering to this exquisite moment.
"Losing you all those years ago..." His voice was raw and ragged, thick with both desire and heartbreak. "I wanted to die with you. I needed to be certain you were gone...so I could follow."
I trembled, caught between the waves of pleasure and the weight of his confession. And to think, I was right under his very nose all this time. What hurt most was that while he suffered, I was oblivious to the truth. To us.
His tongue plunged between my legs before I could even find my voice. A fierce, urgent invasion that seemed to silence every doubt, every fear with waves of pleasure. I didn't bother resisting this time. Not when all I wanted was to lose myself, to bury the danger waiting for us the moment this plane landed.
My fingers tangled deep in his hair, pulling him closer as I rode the storm of ecstasy. My legs pressed hard against his shoulders, then slid down his back, trembling with need. His hands gripped my waist like a lifeline, lifting my hips higher and higher until my lower half was raised off the bed. The pressure intensified, every movement sharp and relentless.
Faster, deeper. Consuming.
The world outside ceased to exist. Only his touch, his breath, his heat. And in that moment, I knew no fear could touch us. Not now. Not ever.
I felt his thumb slide inside me again, slow and deliberate, coaxing me with every stroke as his tongue flicked with fierce tenderness. The sensation overwhelmed me, I couldn't help but came with a shudder. My body trembling under the relentless trail of his tongue, still licking me as I rode the waves of the pleasure he created. Tender, yet fiercely possessive.
"You taste divine, my love," he murmured, his voice husky, before crashing his mouth to mine. I could taste the evidence of my pleasure. Every shiver, every quiver from the fire he started.
My body melted beneath him. Every nerve ablaze with heat and surrender.
He was still hard against me, his length pressing insistently despite the barrier of his pants.
I couldn't hold back any longer. So with trembling hands, I fumbled at his buckle, desire clouding my focus until I freed him, my fingers wrapping around his already aching length with pre-cum coating his tip.
I stroked him slowly, up and down, feeling him grow harder beneath my touch. He rasped my name against my neck, his hands sliding beneath my sweat, slipping under my bra to cup my breast, rough and hungry.
"Fuck," he breathed.
"I need you," I rasped, pulling him closer, my heat burning against his. The heat of his skin searing through the thin barrier between us.
Then, with a fierce relentless thrust, he plunged deep inside me. Claiming, consuming, binding us in a raw, intimate rhythm where every breath, every movement spoke of desperate need. Of fierce love, and a promise no time or fate could ever break.