“Comes with the territory,” I reply, my hand sliding slowly along her back, tracing the line of her spine in a steady, grounding motion.
She hums softly, the sound vibrating against me, and I feel the way her body relaxes further, settling into me withoutreservation. There’s no tension left in her shoulders, no guarded edge in the way she holds herself.
With me, she doesn’t brace. She leans.
I can’t believe I ever thought this wasn’t enough. Right now, with Lani in my arms, it feels likeeverything.
“Stay,” she says, quieter now. Not a demand. Not even a question. Just something spoken like it’s already decided.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I tell her, and I don’t need to force the certainty into it. It’s already there. Wild horses couldn’t drag me away now that I’ve crossed a line with her.
Her body softens further at that, melting into me completely now, her weight settling in a way that trusts I’ll hold it. I adjust slightly, one arm wrapping around her properly, drawing her closer without crowding her space, my hand moving in slow, deliberate paths along her back and shoulder.
Her breathing evens out.
Not asleep.
Just…safe. Content. Trusting.
The heat is still there – I can feel it in the way her body shifts occasionally, in the way her scent continues to rise and fall in slow waves – but with me it doesn’t feel like something pressing in from all sides.
It feels like something reaching.
“You feel different,” I murmur before I think better of it.
She tilts her head slightly, looking up at me through heavy lashes. “Different how?”
I take a second, not searching for the answer, just choosing the right way to say it.
“Quieter,” I tell her. “Not fighting it.”
Her gaze softens, something warm flickering through it. “I don’t have to,” she says.
Simple.
Certain.
I nod, my thumb brushing lightly along her arm. “No,” I agree. “You don’t.”
She watches me for a moment longer, then shifts again, closer still, like she’s chasing the contact instead of settling for it.
Something in my chest tightens – not with tension, not with restraint, but with the weight of what this is becoming.
Not waiting anymore.
Not observing.
Here.
With her.
Exactly where I’m meant to be.
“Good,” she murmurs softly, her eyes drifting half-closed again as she presses into me. “I’m going to nap now. But when I wake up, I want to be yours properly, Koa. I want your knot and your bite.”
And just like that, everything I’d been holding back – every careful step, every measured distance – falls away.
Because she didn’t just reach for me.