I reached up. My hand found her hip. The silk was cool against my palm. Her skin was warm underneath.
"Because you're the one who screamed my name and tore reality apart to save me. You're the one who carries white streaks in your hair because our souls touched. You're the one who kissed me on national television because you couldn't stand the thought of anyone doubting who I belong to."
Her breath caught.
"That's not—"
"It is. You know it is."
She stood frozen for a long moment. The fire crackled. The house creaked. My hand remained on her hip.
Then she moved.
She straddled my lap. Her nightgown rode up her thighs. Her hands found my shoulders. Her face lowered until our foreheads touched.
"I hate that you're right."
"I'm always right."
"You're insufferable."
"Also always."
She kissed me. Soft at first. Then harder. Her tongue pushed past my lips. Her hands tangled in my hair. Her body pressed against mine until I couldn't tell where I ended and she began.
