“Hey,” I whisper, letting my fingers trace his cheek. “Look at me.”
He does. Immediately. Like there’s never been another option. His thrusts falter, not from weakness but from theweight of what’s sitting between us, heavy and fragile in a way only Rowan can be.
“You good?” I murmur.
He breathes out a laugh that breaks in the middle. “No,” he admits, voice shredded raw. “You’re… fuck, Berk…”
I smile, soft around the edges. “Don’t hold back.”
He swallows, gaze locked on mine like I’m the only thing keeping him tethered to this earth. One hand slips from my hip, tracing a familiar path up my spine until it curls at the back of my neck. His thumb moves once—slow, reverent—a quiet admission that even now, especially now, he still needs the reassurance.
“I’m trying,” he says. “But you’re… you’re everything, baby. Everything I lost. Everything I thought was gone for good.”
The words send a cold shiver skating up my spine—no small thing, considering both he and his twin are still deep inside me.
I lean into his touch, pressing my forehead to his. “I’m here,” I whisper. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He squeezes his eyes shut, the promise cutting and healing him in the same breath. When he opens them, whatever restraint he had fractures—leaving him raw, exposed, real. A part of him he never lets anyone touch but us.
“That’s the problem,” he breathes, his voice unsteady. “I can’t lose you again.”
My lips part, but he surges in before I can speak—kissing me hard, unrestrained, like he’s running out of air and I’m the only thing keeping him upright. His hand closes at my neck, pulling me closer, the kiss turning into both a claim and a plea. It steals my breath—then leaves me anchored in its wake.
Home.
Ronan’s hands steady my hips, grounding me, but he doesn’t break the rhythm—keeps thrusting deep behind me,letting the moment breathe instead of taking it over. Emerson stills at my side, reading the shift without a word, giving Rowan this space without claiming any part of it for himself.
It narrows until it’s only us. Me and Rowan. His forehead presses to mine, his breath uneven, his body fitted so tightly against me it feels like he’s trying to pull us back into the same skin, the same heartbeat.
“Rowan,” I whisper.
He brushes his lips against mine again, gentler this time, like he’s shaping unfamiliar words with his mouth. “I love you,” he murmurs—barely a sound, barely a breath. A truth he’s kept locked behind his teeth for years. “More than I know how to handle.”
My heart fractures in the softest way possible.
“I love you too,” I whisper, my thumb tracing the line of his cheekbone.
His breath breaks as it leaves him. His grip firms, steady again. He kisses me once more—unhurried now, intentional, tasting instead of consuming. “Tell me when you’re ready.”
“For what?” I ask softly.
“For me to give you everything.”
My entire body lights up with heat that has nothing to do with sex and everything to do with the man laying his soul bare in my hands.
“I’m ready,” I breathe.
Rowan groans, a raw, guttural sound torn from deep in his chest, and it ripples straight through me. The second it leaves him, he’s already pulling me back into motion, his hands locking around my hips like he’s grounding himself with the feel of me. His eyes stay on mine, dark and scorching, every thrust a silent declaration he’s too wrecked to say out loud.
“Berk,” he breathes, his voice splintering—caught between need and a plea that edges too close to reverence.
He drives up into me hard, each movement rough enough to steal the air from my lungs. It feels like he’s chasing something inside me, or maybe running from the storm inside himself, using my body as the only place he knows he won’t drown. His pace is brutal, desperate, a rhythm that tells me he’s right on the edge of unraveling.
Ronan follows his lead, matching him stroke for stroke behind me. His grip on my hips shifts to adjust for Rowan’s force, his breath hot against my shoulder. His chest presses to my back with every push, the pressure sending sparks straight down my spine. The twins fall into that unspoken synchronicity they’ve always had, using me as their axis, their timing so perfect it feels impossible not to shatter around them.
My entire body tightens, heat spiraling fast, coiling until I can barely breathe. Rowan’s eyes burn into mine like he feels it too—my pulse, my tremble, the way my muscles flutter around them.
“Baby,” he grits out, jaw clenched. “You’re… fuck…”