Cael took her standing up. His large hands gripped her hips with a bruising, territorial possession that bypassed her every defense. He lifted her effortlessly, and Galathea wrapped her legs tight around his waist, anchoring herself to the only solid thing left in her world. Her fingers dug into the familiar, rigid muscles of his shoulders.
'Fuck, this is so good.' she swore in her head, her breath shattering into a loud, uncontained gasp.
The cedar-scented warmth of Cael's skin added to her pleasure as they made raw, unguarded noise together. They reached their climax loudly, their voices echoing in the quiet river house. The sound grounded the frantic, apocalyptic energy of the day into something entirely theirs.
He let her slide down slowly, their chests heaving in unison, until her bare feet finally touched the plush carpet. The shift in pacing was deliberate. The frantic desperation melted into a slow, heavy proximity.
