I let go.
Hot seed spilled inside her again as I shouted her name, hips jerking helplessly under her. My body gave in completely, like it always would when it came to her.
And then—
Her hands slid to my chest. Not gently. Not teasing.
Right between my collarbone and neck, fingers digging in where my claiming spot pulsed.
My heart stuttered.
“Kat—?”
“I told you,” she breathed, voice hoarse but steady, “my turn.”
Her palms flared with heat.
It wasn’t a bite. Not like ours. It was her magic. Her power. It seared into me—not burning, not hurting—but igniting. Like my soul was being welded to hers. A puzzle locking into place. Her scent mixed with mine, her magic folding around my essence.
And then it was done.
She pulled her hands back, breathing hard, staring at her own work with a
