Page 163 of Emylia

And then, carefully, he pushed inside me.

Inch by inch.

Until there was no space left between us.

Onlyus. And Gods, I felt it.

There was a slow, exquisite stretch. My body molded around him like we were made for this—made foreach other. He filled me completely. And where I expected pain… There was only this: Perfection.

I felt full. Claimed. Undone.

Like no part of me didn’t belong to him.

He stilled, breath ragged. “Okay?”

“Yes,” I gasped. “Yes.”

Relief softened his eyes—and then he moved.

And I shattered again.

He thrust into me slow and deep, drawing sounds from me I didn’t recognize as mine. His name poured from my lips like worship. And when he withdrew, only to push back inside, my entire bodysang.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “You’re so tight.”

“Is… that good?” I choked out, barely coherent.

A laugh—broken and breathless. “It’smind-blowing.”

He adjusted his angle, his cock brushing a spot inside me that shattered my vision into stars.

“Holy shit, Bastian,” I cried out.

“You feel so fucking perfect,” he groaned, dragging his lips along my jaw. “And when you say my name like that? I swear it’ll fucking ruin me.”

“I can’t get enough of you.”

“Gods, Em…”

And then it hit—blinding. Blistering. White-hot light tore through me.

I moaned, his name. And he held me while I shattered. Murmured my name like a secret. Worshipped me.

And only moments later, he followed—his body crashing into mine as he whispered my name, over and over again, into my neck like it belonged only to him.

We collapsed.

Tangled. Breathless. Whole.

“I didn’t hurt you?” His voice—soft. Wrecked.

I shook my head, smiling through the haze.

“No. I’m… I’m better than fine. That was… beyond anything I could’ve imagined.”

He laughed—breathless, disbelieving.

“Was it… good for you too?” I asked.

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