I made a protesting sound as Sven broke the kiss to meet my eyes.

"Not here," he murmured, swinging me up into his arms easily. "I want you in my bed, with no interruptions."

So that was where he took me, down the hall, straight to his bedroom, and into his large, cushioned bed. In the soft silence of privacy, Sven gently removed my clothes, his fingers barely skimming my skin. He was much faster and less careful with his own. He watched me the entire time, his eyes hot. Possessive. I sighed as he lay down on top of me, the press of his warm skin against mine necessary. I wanted as much of him pressed against me as I could have.

He propped himself up on his elbows, cupping my face in his hands.

"I thought I would never see you again," he murmured, his eyes scanning my face. Like he almost couldn't believe I was actually there. I wrapped my hands around his strong wrists, turning my head to kiss a palm.

"I'm sorry," I said, seeing the pain he'd had to deal with. The grieving he'd still been doing when I showed up. He lowered his head to rest his forehead against mine.

"Not your fault," he countered. "Just don't do that again," he admonished. "Not even to save me. Not that I'm not grateful, but I'd rather take attacks meant for me, please."

I couldn't agree to that. If it happened again...

"You need to keep your phone with you," I teased instead, intending to lighten the mood. But he lifted his head at that, the anguish in his eyes clear.

"I couldn't forgive myself for not checking my messages," he said in a hoarse voice. "If I'd just taken a second..."

"Sven, no," I ordered, shaking my head. "I was just joking. How could you have known it would have been so important?"

"I should have—"

"We should celebrate the fact that we're together again," I interrupted, not giving him the opportunity to flog himself over nothing. Not when we were lucky enough to be with each other. I'd had a taste of just how precious time was. And I didn't want to waste it. Who knew what tomorrow would bring? I wanted to savor every moment I had.

Sven nodded, the same knowledge in his eyes.

"You're right," he agreed, kissing me lightly. "You're right."

And then we proceeded to celebrate.

And Sven was very thorough about it. He kissed every inch of my front, paying equal attention to every square inch.

My face.

My throat.

My shoulders and arms.

My breasts.

My stomach.

Down my legs to my feet, kissing the sensitive arches.

Then he rolled me over.

And did the same to my back.

Gentle, soft kisses down the length of my spine.

Across the curves directly below.

Down my thighs.

Until I was an impatient mess of hormones, the place I really wanted him to be touching wet and hot and needy.

"Sven," I complained, not able to keep the embarrassing whining note out of my voice.

Chuckling, he flipped me over to my back and buried his mouth between my legs. I cried out at the abrupt stimulation where I really wanted him, my hands coming down to grip his head as he licked and sucked, his hands holding my thighs firmly apart as he drove me to my first orgasm.

I was so close from all the work he'd just done that it didn't take much. My fingers dug into his head as I arched involuntarily, the clenching heat taking me over. A blazing, beautiful cascade of tingling pleasure that permeated my entire body.

It felt amazing.

It felt like life.

While I was still recovering, Sven rolled me to my side and cupped my body from behind with his. Kissing my damp neck, he raised my leg over his hip and pushed inside. One of his hands slid up to my breast. And the other slid down. Down. Sliding between my folds to rub at my clitoris. While he started a slow, gliding thrust. I felt it building again. But I couldn't take that slow ride again. It might kill me.

"Sven," I muttered, pushing back against him. "Harder."

"Not yet," he responded, taking a firmer grip on me.

And continuing those slow, maddening thrusts. I felt like I was going to start clawing at the wall if he didn't go faster. Harder.

I felt encompassed by him, by the pleasure he was giving me. But I needed more. I needed to reach that finish line. The first orgasm had only managed to make me greedier.

I pulled away, something he wasn't expecting me to do. I used that surprise to my advantage. He frowned as I turned to him.

"Adara, is everything ok—"

Before he could finish his sentence, I had him on his back, and had already taken him back inside me in one hard thrust of my hips. He groaned, his hands coming down to grip my hips as I rode him. My eyes met his half-open ones, the pleasure he was feeling showing in the almost pained look on his face. I rode him hard. As hard as I wanted to, my hands bracing myself on his shoulders as I pistoned up and down. Right to that shiny finish line.

Moaning, I hunched over on top of him as I clenched down on his hot length, unable to keep moving as the orgasm hit me. He used the moment to roll us back over, our bodies sliding slickly against one another. And then he thrust into me hard, his hips slapping against mine. I cried out as another wave of pleasure hit me, just as Sven slapped a hand against the headboard and let out a ragged breath, pulsing inside me with his own release, his jaw clenched tight, his head dropping as he shuddered. I smoothed my hands down his slick back, which was all I really had the energy left to do.

Sven finally opened his eyes, his breathing deep and rough. He rolled to his side facing me, pulling me closer against him. I closed my eyes to take in a deep breath, sighing. When I opened them again, his were only inches away.

"I love you," he murmured.

And I could see the truth of that statement in his eyes. Could feel it in my heart even without the words.

"I love you, too." I didn't know how else to categorize this emotion that made my heart feel too big for my chest, too big for my body to contain. "And screw everyone else's opinions."

Sven grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Agreed."

As I snuggled closer, tucking my face into his neck, breathing in his scent, I knew there was one decision that I no longer had to make. Sven was mine. And I was his. And we'd just have to figure out our lives around that simple fact.