When she was spent, he shifted slightly, still buried inside her, holding her close. Their foreheads touched, breaths mingling, hearts racing in unison. “You belong with me, Maya. Always.” he murmured, voice thick with need and devotion.
Maya’s fingers traced down his arms, over his back, clinging to him. “Always yours,” she whispered, eyes shining, a soft smile curving her lips.
The fire crackled, the rain tapped gently against the glass, and for a few precious moments, the world outside—the danger, the war, the enemies—faded away. There was only this: warmth, love, and the quiet, intense intimacy of two souls bound together, body and heart, in the glow of the fire.
The fire had burned low, and rain had slowed to a gentle patter outside the floor-to-ceiling windows. Damien and Maya lay
