She was doing it. She was really doing it. She was…
Her lips touched his and her hand went around his back to steady herself — when had he gotten so tall? Was that part of his power? Magical healing, grow an inch every time he broke a bone?
His lips were chapped, but after a moment, that didn’t matter. His hand found her back and splayed there, fingers leaving five warm places just below her neck.
He kissed like he was going to fuck her, rougher, more intent than anyone she’d kissed in a long time, maybe ever. He kissed like she was the only thing in the world, and, for a few moments, he was the only thing in hers.
She pulled back ruefully only when her toes complained. “You,” she murmured affectionately, “are far too tall.”
“I could be shorter,” he offered. “But I like being tall.”
She chuckled and, much to her surprise, hugged him, arms around his waist, pulling him in as tight as she could. He grunted once and then hugged her back, not loosening his hold until she released hers.
“I think,” she whispered, “I like having you here.”
“I think,” he admitted quietly, “I like being here.”
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