And the fact that it was Maya only made it worse. She wouldn’t take the pain along with the sweetness, knowing that, one day, the pain would fade and leave behind some beautiful memories. She’d remember all of it, every whispered word. He’d be gone, but he’d be haunting her just the same.
He pulled her hand to his mouth, kissed her palm. “I need you to say it. Say that you understand.”
“You’re dying.” Her voice wavered. “It doesn’t matter. If you told me tonight was all we could ever have, I’d still want it. You don’t have to promise me forever to be worth it. You’re worth it because you’re you.”
Because you’re you. The words made a giddy warmth bloom in his chest. Maybe he didn’t have to promise her the future, a life he didn’t have in his power to give. But this—one stolen moment followed by another, perfect snapshots of peace where they hadn’t expected to find any. This could be enough.
He could be enough.
It was the most natural thing in the world, pulling her closer. Stroking her cheek. Pressing his lips to hers.
Falling into her.
* * *
Maya thought she was prepared for Gray’s kiss.
It wasn’t as if it was the first time. She’d kissed him before, up on the roof. She should have been prepared for the rush of sensation, the giddy overwhelming intensity of it.
But it wasn’t less intense with repetition. It was more.
Her mind latched on to every individual detail, savoring it. Exploring it. Wallowing in it. The way he threaded his fingers through her braids to cup the back of her skull, the firm heat of his mouth, how hard her heart pounded when he tilted his head and teased her lower lip with his tongue. And oh, the sound he made—all low and deep, a hum of satisfaction as she tangled her fingers in his hair and parted her lips for him.
“It feels like we’ve been waiting for this forever,” he whispered.
Oh, that voice. Liquid gold with a smoky rasp she could feel to her toes. She let her head fall back and shivered as his lips grazed her jaw. “Your voice.”
“You like it?” He spoke the words against her throat, chasing tingles through her whole body.
“It’s the only thing I’ve ever heard that I’m glad I’ll remember forever.”
His hands settled on her hips, and he lifted his head. “Then I’ll use it as much as I can.”
He kissed her again, his tongue sliding between her lips as his hands moved up and beneath the hem of her tank top. The soft brush of his fingertips up her spine drove a moan from her, a helpless sound lost to his mouth.
Maya tightened her grip on his hair, unsure if she wanted to drag him away or pull him closer. If the barest touch felt this intense, she wasn’t sure she’d survive actual fucking. She’d never tried before like this—all of her hard-won TechCorps training abandoned, her rigid grip on her other senses eased.
What a damn waste that had been.
When she dragged his head back, it was only so she could kiss his jaw. His cheek. His throat. She parted her lips and savored the salty taste of his skin. Inhaled and wrapped herself in his scent—aftershave this time, she thought, and that hint of pine from when he’d helped with the dishes after dinner.
His hand splayed wide between her shoulder blades, and she arched back into his touch, shuddering. “More.”
He growled softly.
The sound of it rumbled through her. Need pulsed, bright and hot. Arousal made her ache, already so sharp she wanted to crawl into his lap and rock her way to bliss. She dragged his mouth to her throat, gasping as he pressed his teeth against her skin.
But only for a moment. Then pressure eased, only to be replaced by a sharp nip and a not-quite-apologetic hum as he soothed the ravaged spot with his tongue.
Oh God, she was going to fly apart. She’d explode into stardust, but nothing in the world could make her stop feeling every moment of this. She wanted the memory imprinted on her atoms.
She pulled at his hair again, gasping out her command. “More.”
He tugged at her shirt, pausing long enough to rasp, “Can I?”
“Yes.” Except she had to release him long enough to hold up her arms, but it was worth it when he tossed the fabric aside and touched her again.
His fingertips glided up her ribs, stopping just shy of her breasts. “What do you want, sweetheart? Something slow and endless? Or quick and hot?”
“Endless,” she gasped, anticipation a buzz beneath her skin. “Endless and hot. I want to feel you everywhere.”
“So hard to please,” he teased as he released her again. He caught her gaze and held it as he dropped his hands to the buttons on his shirt and pulled them free, one by one.
She held her breath as he shrugged out of the shirt. She’d seen him in T-shirts that hugged him like a lover, and even shirtless once or twice, but nothing compared to the slow, deliberate baring of skin as he smiled at her in smug confidence.
He was perfect. Of course he was, he’d never had any other option. Nothing marred his skin, no lingering sign of the hundreds of battles he’d fought. The TechCorps would have put him back together again after any injury—not out of any particular concern for him, but because they always took good care of useful tools.
She finally found a single scar on his arm, pale with age, probably from before he’d joined up. She touched it, shocked at the heat of his skin, and let her fingers drift up his arm. “I’m not trying to control this,” she told him, tracing a fingertip along his collarbone. “I trust you. Even if it gets intense, even if it gets overwhelming. I trust you.”
“I’ll take care of you,” he promised, then gathered her to his chest, skin to skin, and kissed her again.
Her knees slid to either side of his thighs as her head spun. The rough fabric of his jeans rasped over her skin. Her pajama shorts were flimsy, and they might as well have not been there when she rocked her hips against his. She moaned into his mouth as pleasure unspooled low in her belly.
He took over the movement, one arm around her to hold her close and the other at her hip. Unbidden, the music from Convergence whispered through her head, the low bass throbbing through her. She matched the beat, moaning as the movement pressed her bare breasts to his chest. Her nipples were tight and aching; the abrasion from the hair on his chest soothed her and wound her tighter at the same time.
So fast. Too fast. She dragged her lips from his and panted against his cheek, her whole body shaking. “Is it supposed to feel this good?”
“Yes.”
She shivered again. His fingers tightened on her hip, guiding her to grind down against his denim-encased erection. Another of those noises escaped him—low, rumbling, almost a growl—and this time she felt the vibrations against her chest.
Her nails pricked his shoulders. She clung to him, her head falling back, her body on fire. He licked a fiery path up her bared throat, then closed his teeth on her jaw and whispered her name.
Maya choked on a desperate noise. The need inside her twisted tight, and the rhythm of her hips faltered as her focus shattered. The moan of loss had barely escaped her when Gray’s fingers splayed wide on the small of her back, guiding her against him so right, so perfect—
“Take it,” he murmured.
She did. All of it. She chased pleasure until it broke over her, and she wallowed in it. Sweaty and messy and glorious, tingling all the way to her toes. It had never been like this before because she’d never been like this before—open to the world, hungry to feel, ready to imprint every second of this on her soul.