As they held each other, Ethan's inner wolf began to stir again, an undercurrent of possessiveness beneath the surface of tenderness. "She's ours," "She owned," it echoed, louder now. "Take her." The urgency was almost physical.
With an almost reverent movement, but with fingers that trembled slightly with restraint, he took a thick lock of her red hair. The texture was soft, silky beneath his fingers, calloused from working on engines these days—even he had his work issues. He brought it to his face, closing his eyes for a moment as he inhaled deeply of her scent straight from the source—lavender, rain, and something indescribably Hope . A shiver ran through his body. The wolf growled in approval inside his mind. When he opened his eyes again, they were no longer just blue and green. They were entirely fluorescent green, glowing in the dim light with a predatory, hypnotic light that made Hope catch her breath.
"Hope," he said, his voice huskier than normal, almost a restrained growl, the vibration running through her chest where they were pressed together. "We can't stay here." He needed to get her out of this public, vulnerable place. He needed to get her somewhere... safe. Private. His. "Come with me. To my... my 'apartment'. We need to talk... in private." The excuse was flimsy, he knew, almost transparent, but the need to have her close, away from everything and everyone, was overwhelming, an almost primal instinct within him.
Hope blinked, taken aback by the abrupt change of subject and the almost frightening intensity in his bright green eyes. A deeper blush crept up her neck, heating her skin. She sensed the danger in his voice, the unspoken promise in the way he looked at her, but instead of fear, she felt a rush of forbidden excitement course through her, a direct response to the raw strength emanating from him, to the bond she now half understood. The Imprint. She didn't flinch. Instead, a small smile curved her lips, a mix of nervousness and fascination. "Your apartment?" she repeated, her voice a little shaky but firm. "Okay, Ethan. Take me."
He took her hand, his strong fingers wrapping around hers with a possessive grip that sent another jolt of electricity through her, and began to guide her out of the square, toward the Harley parked on the side street beneath the yellow glow of a lone streetlamp. The leather of his jacket brushed against her arm as they walked, and Hope felt the heat radiating from him.
Climbing onto the bike behind him was an act fraught with new awareness. Her arms went around his waist, but this time it wasn't hesitation, it was a firm embrace, seeking contact, feeling the defined muscles of his back beneath his shirt and jacket. The deep rumble of the engine vibrated through her as he started it, and she tightened her grip, pressing her face into his leather jacket as he sped through the sleepy streets of Mystic Falls.
The night wind whipped through her hair, but Hope's mind was in a different whirl. What does he want by taking me to his room? The question came, unavoidable. Her heart raced, a frantic rhythm against his back. Does he want to… sleep with me? The thought made a familiar, frightening warmth spread low in her belly, the same warmth from the night before, but now mixed with the understanding of his memories.
Is it too soon? Doubt crept in, a hint of caution. But it was quickly overwhelmed by the avalanche of feelings and the twisted logic of her unique situation. No... it's not too soon. She remembered the memories she'd seen, the intensity of their connection that had existed before she could even remember. She remembered the night of the movie, the way their bodies had fit together naturally, the silent intimacy. She remembered the time she herself had asked for, pushing him away out of fear, a time that now felt like an eternity lost and irretrievable. The Imprint. The word echoed, justifying the speed, the intensity. This was no ordinary romance starting from scratch; it was the resumption of something that was already deep, something that not even the Devil could completely destroy.
Do I want this? Yes. The answer came quickly, undeniably. The desire he aroused in her was overwhelming, a force that seemed as natural as breathing, now that she understood its origin. It felt right. It seemed like destiny being fulfilled, despite everything.
They arrived at the cheap hotel, its worn facade a stark contrast to the magnitude of what they felt. Ethan parked his Harley, the engine silent in the night. He got out first, then turned and offered her a hand to help her down. His touch sent sparks racing across her skin. He led her through the empty lobby and up the creaky stairs, the only sound other than their footsteps the rapid beating of Hope's heart.
They stopped in front of a door with the number 12 chipped into it. Ethan unlocked it, pushing it open to reveal a simple, almost spartan room. He entered first, then turned, holding the door for her, his eyes—now back to their hypnotic blue and green, but still charged with intensity—locked on hers. The silent invitation hung in the air, thick with anticipation. Hope took a deep breath and crossed the threshold, stepping into the room and the unknown future that awaited her with it.
Ethan held the door for Hope, and she hesitantly entered hotel room number 12. The place was surprisingly... cozy, for a cheap roadside establishment. It wasn't just a room; it had the feel of a small studio apartment. A made-up double bed occupied one corner, opposite an old TV perched on a dark wood dresser. On the other side, a small kitchenette with a mini-fridge, microwave and a few simple cabinets suggested a longer stay than that of a casual traveler. Still, the smell of dust and cheap disinfectant hung in the air.
Hope looked around, taking in the simple surroundings as Ethan closed the door behind them, the soft click of the lock seeming to seal off the outside world. He walked past her, the leather of his jacket brushing lightly against her arm, and walked over to the minibar.
"Would you like anything?" he asked, his husky voice breaking the silence as he opened the small door, revealing a few cans of soda and bottles of water. "I think I have some snacks stashed away somewhere, too." He rummaged through one of the kitchenette cabinets, pulling out a crumpled bag of chips and another of cookies. It wasn't much of a feast, but it was a gesture of normalcy that Hope appreciated.
"A soda would be fine," she replied, her voice still a little shaky. She sat on the edge of the bed, watching him as he grabbed two cans and opened the bag of chips, pouring the contents into a makeshift bowl made from the bag itself.
He walked over, handing her a cold can and the bowl of chips before sitting down next to her on the bed, keeping a respectful distance but close enough for her to feel the warmth emanating from him. He grabbed the remote from the dresser. "How about a movie? It helps you get your mind off it," he suggested, turning on the old TV, which hissed for a moment before displaying the blue screen of a streaming service connected to some device.
Hope nodded, grateful for the distraction. "Maybe."
As Ethan browsed the titles with a familiarity that surprised her, Hope watched him out of the corner of her eye. He seemed different now, no longer with the almost predatory intensity of the square. There was a calmness in his movements, a gentleness in his gaze when he briefly met hers. He was controlling himself, she realized, and the realization made her relax a little. He knew she was scared, confused, and she was choosing to go slow, despite the overwhelming force she knew existed between them, the force of the Imprint he had mentioned and that she felt without fully understanding.
Finally, they settled on a random movie, a light romantic comedy that didn't require much attention. Ethan pressed play and leaned back against the pillows against the headboard, leaving an inviting space next to him. Hope hesitated for a moment, then settled in as well, her shoulder brushing against his as she grabbed a handful of fries.
The movie started, the jokes and clichés playing out on the screen, but the real story was happening here, in the tense stillness between them. Ethan kept his eyes on the TV, but Hope could feel his awareness on her. He didn't push anything, didn't try to make conversation right away. He was giving her the space she didn't even know she needed.
To lighten the mood, which was starting to get heavy, Ethan made a dry comment about a particularly silly scene in the movie, which drew a genuine laugh from Hope. Emboldened, he began to tell some stories—not about the erased past that she wouldn't remember, but about funny and trivial moments from his (erased to her) experience at the Salvatore School, omitting names and contexts that would give her away. He talked about a spell that went comically wrong in magic class (without mentioning the twins), about how he almost burned down the kitchen trying to make pancakes for the wolves (without mentioning Rafael or the others), about the time Alaric caught him sleeping in the library.
They were fragments of a life she didn't share, but the way he told them, with that dry humor and a nostalgic sparkle in his eyes, made her smile. It eased the tension, created a fragile bridge between the stranger beside her and the boy whose memories she had just witnessed.
As time passed, Hope, almost without realizing it, moved closer to him. First, her shoulder brushing against his. Then, her head finding a comfortable resting place on his shoulder as she laughed at one of his jokes. He didn't move to hug her, keeping up with her pace, but his arm was there, firm and warm at her side. The smell of him—leather, a hint of motor oil, and something masculine and earthy—was comforting.
The movie was coming to an end, the romantic soundtrack filling the room. Hope lifted her head, her blue eyes meeting his heterochromatic ones in the dim light. The atmosphere changed instantly. The lightness gave way to something denser, the electricity that had always existed between them returning with full force. Ethan's smile disappeared, replaced by an intensity that made Hope's heart race.
He lifted his hand slowly, his knuckles brushing her cheek. The touch was light, almost hesitant, but it sent a shiver through her body. She didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned her face into his touch, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, he was closer.
The first kiss was soft, a shy brush of lips, almost a question. Hope responded, her lips moving against his with a gentleness that belied the storm inside her. But the softness didn't last. The spark lit the powder. The kiss deepened quickly, becoming hungry, needy. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer, closing any space between them. Her hand moved up to the back of his neck, her fingers getting lost in the soft strands of his hair, while her other hand splayed across his firm chest, feeling the strong beat of his heart beneath her palm.
Their tongues met in a dance that was both familiar and new, exploring, tasting, seeking more. The taste of him was intoxicating, an addictive mix that Hope felt she could kiss forever. Ethan groaned low against her mouth, a guttural sound that vibrated through her, and his hands began to explore, one moving up her back beneath her shirt, the other moving dangerously down her thigh.
The heat between them was almost unbearable. Hope felt desire throb in her lower belly, a sharp, delicious sensation that left her gasping. Ethan's hands were firm and expert on her body, even though he was holding himself back, and she was losing herself in the sea of sensations. Things were getting deeper, their breathing getting heavier, their kisses more urgent.
It was then, as his hand slid to the hem of her shirt, about to push it up higher, that a sudden, cold panic hit Hope. She placed her hands on his chest, breaking the kiss, gently but firmly pushing him away.
"Ethan... wait," she whispered, her voice shaky, breathless.
He stopped immediately, pulling back enough to look at her, his green eyes shining with desire and confusion. "Hope? What is it? Did I do something wrong?" The concern in his voice was genuine.
Hope looked away, her face burning. She took a deep breath, gathering her courage. "It's…it's not you," she whispered, the words hard to get out. She looked at him again, vulnerability etched in her blue eyes. "It's just…I…I'm a virgin, Ethan." The confession came out in a whisper, barely audible. "I've never…gone all the way with anyone."
The air hung between them. The intensity of Ethan's desire gave way to silent surprise, followed by a wave of tenderness that softened his features. He watched her for a long moment, processing the revelation, before reaching up and brushing a stray strand of hair from her face with unexpected gentleness.
"Okay," he said, his voice husky but incredibly soft. "Thanks for telling me, Hope." There was no judgment in his gaze, only understanding and a respect that warmed her more than any kiss. He pulled back a little further, giving her space, the fluorescent green of his eyes receding into the familiar blue and green, now glowing with a different, deeper emotion. That moment of vulnerability had changed everything again, weaving a new thread into the complex tapestry of their rediscovered relationship.
Hope looked away, her face burning. She took a deep breath, gathering her courage. "It's…it's not you," she whispered, the words hard to get out. She looked at him again, vulnerability etched in her blue eyes. "It's just…I…I'm a virgin, Ethan." The confession came out in a whisper, barely audible, but it echoed in the tense silence of the room with the force of a bomb. "I've never…gone all the way with anyone."
The air hung between them. For a split second, genuine surprise flickered in Ethan's heterochromatic eyes. But then something changed. The surprise didn't give way to the tenderness or gentle understanding Hope might have expected. Instead, it transformed into something rawer, more intense. A dangerous spark ignited deep within his irises.
His eyes, which had returned to their normal blue and green, exploded into a fluorescent green again, but this time the glow was different—wilder, hungrier, almost feverish. It was a green that seemed to consume the very light in the room, a green that spoke of the beast within that had awakened in full force. Ethan's heart didn't just race; it hammered against his ribs with a heavy, primal beat, not of nervousness but of possessive, overwhelming excitement.
Virgin? The word echoed in his mind, amplified by the wolf's silent growl. Mine? Only mine. The idea of being the first, the only one , to know that depth of intimacy with her, ignited his instincts in a way he couldn't - and perhaps didn't want to - control. The Imprint no longer meant anything to him, but his beloved had never been tainted by any other Man and he would be her first Man.
He didn't say, "Okay." He didn't offer any words of comfort. Instead, he leaned forward abruptly, closing the small space that separated them. His hands came up to cup her face again, but this time there was no hesitation. His fingers were firm, possessive, holding her face as if she were the most precious and volatile thing in the universe.
"Hope..." he growled, his voice deeper, more guttural than before, the vibration running through her body. And then he kissed her again.
It wasn't a soft, understanding kiss. It was a kiss that claimed, that marked. A hungry kiss that stole her breath and left her dizzy. His lips moved against hers with an urgency that bordered on savagery, his tongue seeking hers with an unspoken demand. He pulled her closer, his strong body pressing hers into the pillows, one of his hands sliding to the curve of her waist, squeezing possessively.
As he kissed her in that overwhelming way, he tilted his head, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of her earlobe. His warm breath sent shivers down her spine. And then he began to whisper, the words a low, husky murmur, right into her ear, making every nerve ending in her body light up.
"You're mine alone, Hope," he whispered, his voice vibrating with an intensity that made her shiver all over. "You have no idea... No one else will ever touch you like this. No one else can ." He gave her earlobe a light bite, eliciting an involuntary moan. "I'm going to show you what it's like to be mine. Completely." Each word was a promise, a declaration of possession that was both frightening and incredibly arousing to her.
Hope felt her entire body tremble under his grip, under the weight of those whispered words. What is he doing to me? The thought flashed through her mind through the haze of desire. She, Hope Mikaelson, the powerful Tribrid, the girl who faced monsters and demons, who was usually so free with everyone, so in control, talking, joking, being authoritative when necessary... With him, she fell apart. All her strength, her wit, her defensiveness seemed to evaporate.
Around Ethan, especially now, with those green eyes burning into her soul and those possessive words echoing in her ear, she wasn't the Tribrid. She wasn't even the natural leader she tried to be at school. She felt like... just a teenager. An ordinary teenager, overcome by overwhelming feelings, by a desire that made her weak in the knees, completely at the mercy of that boy's intensity. He transformed her completely. Her personality changed in his presence, becoming something softer, more vulnerable, more... surrendered. And while a part of her was scared by this loss of control, another part, the part connected to him, yearned for more of that feeling, to lose herself completely in that storm called Ethan.
He lifted his lips from her ear, just enough to meet her wide eyes in the dim light. The fluorescent green still glowed brightly, reflecting the raw desire and ruthless determination in his gaze. The wolf was in charge now, and he was no longer asking for permission.
The kiss that followed was almost a storm. Ethan's mouth returned to hers with renewed hunger, his hands sliding from her face, down her neck, over her shoulders, until they found what he had wanted since the first moment he saw her emerge on the first day of the Salvatore School. His large hands rested on Hope's full breasts, over the thin fabric of the T-shirt she wore. Even through the cotton, he felt the fullness, the softness that drove him crazy just imagining it. Finally. The thought of his wolf part being his human part was also a groan of satisfaction. He squeezed gently, his thumbs brushing over her nipples that hardened instantly beneath the fabric, and a low moan escaped Hope's lips, mingling with the feverish kiss.
As one hand continued to caress and possess her breast, Ethan's mouth left hers, tracing a burning path down her jawline to her soft, exposed neck. He planted hot, urgent kisses that soon turned into light bites, into possessive hickeys that would leave subtle marks on her fair skin. He wanted to mark her, to leave a visible sign that she was his, a territorial instinct that consumed him.
"Ethan..." Hope moaned, her head lolling to the side, giving him more access to the sensitive skin of her neck. The sound of his name leaving her lips, thick with pleasure and surrender, was like pouring gasoline on the fire burning inside Ethan. Every moan she made made him harder, harder, the need to possess her becoming almost unbearable. The wolf howled in his mind, victorious.
His hands, previously on her shirt, now sought more. With a torturous slowness that contrasted with the urgency of the kiss and the bites, he slid his fingers under the hem of her shirt. The first contact with the bare skin of her belly was like an electric shock for both of them. Her skin was warm, soft, vibrating under his hesitant but firm touch. Ethan held his breath for a moment, savoring that moment. Touching Hope like that... it was almost surreal. It was magical. Having this girl, the girl who haunted his thoughts even when the world had forgotten him, there, in his arms, responding to his touch... it was something mind-blowing, almost like a mirage about to disappear. He slowly moved his hands up, exploring the soft curve of her waist, feeling every contour, every breath she took under his fingers. Every touch on that body was a discovery, a confirmation of the bond that united them, a promise of what was yet to come. He wanted her, all of her, and the feeling of finally having her so close, so surrendered, was the most real and powerful thing he had ever felt.
Ethan pulled his lips away from Hope's ear, his fluorescent green eyes shining in the dim light of the room with an intensity that seemed to set the air ablaze, a primal force that pulsed through his veins. But in her blue eyes, there was an equally fierce glow, a desire that burned as brightly as his, mixed with a faint shadow of shame that only made her gaze more captivating. She wanted him as much as he wanted her, and the tension between them was a taut rope ready to snap.
The kiss that followed was a storm of emotions. Ethan's mouth took hers with a desperate hunger, his lips moving urgently, his tongue exploring hers with a demand that stole her breath. Hope responded with equal passion, her soft lips pressing against his, her tongue dancing in a surrender that mixed love and raw need. His large hands moved down from her face, tracing her neck, her shoulders, until they rested on her full breasts, still covered by the thin pajama top. He felt the voluptuous fullness, the softness that drove him crazy, and he squeezed gently, his thumbs brushing over the nipples that had hardened beneath the fabric.
— Mmm... — Hope moaned, the sound like a soft purr, filled with desire and a hint of shyness, her half-lidded eyes meeting his, vulnerable but burning.
That moan, so sweet and full of emotion, was like a bolt of lightning in Ethan's chest. The wolf howled in his mind, but it was the man who lost himself in the connection with her, his heart racing with the intensity of that moment. His body hardened even more, the need to touch her, to have her, becoming almost unbearable.
Ethan's mouth left hers, trailing a fiery path down her jaw to her soft, exposed neck. He planted hot kisses that quickly turned into possessive hickeys, each suck leaving a red mark on her pale skin. But Hope's supernatural regeneration erased the marks in seconds, a reminder of her powerful nature.
He chuckled low against her skin, the husky, seductive sound vibrating against her sensitive neck. "Erasing my marks, Kitten?" he murmured, his voice thick with sin. "I'm going to mark you until you feel like you're mine in every inch of you."
Hope blushed, initial embarrassment shining in her eyes, but she bent her neck, offering more, a soft moan— Hnnn —escaping, throaty and full of surrender. "Try it, Ethan," she whispered, her voice shaking with need but with a hint of teasing that made him smile.
Ethan's hands, eager for more, found the hem of her shirt. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching hers, silently asking for permission. Hope swallowed, a blush spreading across her cheeks, but she nodded, her eyes shining with a mixture of nervousness and overwhelming desire. With reverent slowness, he pulled the shirt up, revealing her pale, milky skin, her full breasts free of the bra that had already been discarded. He tossed the garment aside, his eyes fixed on her, as if before something sacred.
"You're perfect," he murmured, his voice husky with admiration, his eyes tracing every curve, every detail.
Hope looked away for a moment, embarrassed by the exposure, but the desire burning deep inside her—her privates already soaked, pulsing with a need that made her tremble—made her lift her chin, meeting his gaze. "Then touch me," she whispered, her voice thick with a courage that came from love and passion.
Ethan needed no further invitation. His large hands cupped her breasts, unable to fully encompass their voluptuous fullness. He lowered his head, his mouth capturing one nipple with a mixture of reverence and hunger. His lips sucked gently, his tongue circling, his teeth nibbling lightly, eliciting a loud moan. "Nnngh!" Hope exclaimed, the sensual sound reverberating, her hands fisting in his hair, pulling him closer, her body arching against his mouth.
Ethan ripped off his shirt, exposing his muscular chest, marked by scars that told the story of his entire life. The skin-to-skin contact was electrifying, the feel of his tanned skin against hers creating a sensation that drove him crazy, as if each touch was a spark. Hope pressed her body against his, feeling the heat, the firm muscles beneath her hands as she explored his chest, his shoulders, his back. He pulled her onto his lap, her thighs wrapping around his hips, the heat between them igniting.
"I want you, Ethan," she whispered, her lips brushing his, her voice a mix of love and raw desire, her eyes shining with an intensity that took his breath away.
Her words shattered any restraint. Ethan stripped off his pants and underwear with desperate speed, revealing himself completely. Hope's eyes widened, her blush deepening as she saw the colossal size of his cock—a foot of pure splendor, erect and imposing. A faint fear flashed in her eyes, but it was overtaken by a burning desire, her soaked privates throbbing in anticipation. I want him , she thought, biting her lip, her heart racing.
Ethan noticed her hesitation and softened his gaze. "Hope, I promise you… I'll take care of you," he murmured, his voice husky, full of love.
She smiled, a shy smile, but full of confidence. "I know you will," she replied, pulling him into a kiss that sealed the bond between them.
Ethan laid her down on the bed, his lips trailing kisses down her inner thighs. When he removed her panties, her scent enveloped him, and he nearly growled with pleasure. His mouth found the center of her pussy, and the first touch of his tongue was an explosion. Her taste was sweet, intoxicating, like warm honey mixed with something uniquely hers, an essence he could never get enough of. He licked her with animal devotion, each lick eliciting sensual moans.
— Mmmh! Haa... — Hope moaned, the sounds varying between deep sighs and high-pitched moans, her hands gripping the sheets, her hips moving against his mouth, her soaked privates responding to every touch.
The way she moaned, so uncontrolled, drove Ethan crazy. He took her to the edge until she convulsed, a sensual cry— Hnnngh! —echoing as she came, the pleasure reverberating in the room.
Ethan rose, positioning himself between her legs, the tip of his colossal member brushing against her soaked entrance. Hope held her breath, her eyes filled with desire and a hint of nervousness.
"Are you sure, Kitten?" he asked, his voice husky, his eyes searching hers.
— Yes Ethan, I can't take it anymore — she replied, her voice shaking with emotion, pulling him into a kiss.
With a low moan, Ethan entered her slowly, careful but firm. The blood running down her legs was a clear sign of her virginity being broken. Hope gasped, his size filling her in a pleasurable and painful way. "Wait a minute, Ethan..." she whispered, her voice trembling. "It hurts..."
He stopped, his body tense. "I'm sorry, my Hope," he murmured, kissing her softly, his lips tracing her face, her neck, until the discomfort eased. Hope relaxed, her hips moving, signaling that she was ready.
Ethan began to move, his pace slow at first, each thrust deep. Hope moaned, soft sounds— Mmm... haa...— escaping, each one inflaming Ethan. The pain faded, and the pleasure grew, his cock inside her a sensation too exquisite, as if he had been made for her. He picked up the pace, her moans— Nnngh! —driving him, her nails digging into his back.
But Hope wanted more. Her eyes, now shining with a hint of boldness, met his. In one fluid movement, she gently pushed him away, reversing their positions. "I want to feel you like this," she whispered huskily as she climbed onto his lap, her thighs wrapped around his hips, her gaze filled with love and desire, her eyes beginning to glow a lupine gold, a sign of her awakening nature.
Hope began to move, riding him with a passion that mixed tenderness and ferocity. Her hips undulated in perfect rhythm, each movement eliciting deep moans from Ethan. Their gazes met, filled with lust and raw emotion, her golden eyes—tearful with pleasure, yet naughty—driving him wild. The taste of her skin against his, the heat, the softness, was mind-blowing, every touch a confirmation of what they felt for each other.
Ethan grabbed her ass, his big hands squeezing the soft flesh, the sensation making him even more excited. You're all mine—Hope, he said it in a husky, deep voice, as he leaned in, his mouth capturing a nipple, sucking and nibbling, alternating with licks on her mouth, her lips soft and parted, responding with moans— Haa... nnngh! —that set him on fire.
He held her tightly, his arms wrapped around her as if he never wanted to let her go, nibbling on her neck, kissing her with a passion that mixed possession and love. Having her there, completely his, was too much for him. His cock inside her, enveloped by her soaking heat, was a delicious sensation, perfect, as if the universe had conspired for that moment.
Hope's rhythm became frantic, their bodies in sync. She came, her body convulsing, a sensual cry of " Hnnngh! " echoing, her golden eyes glowing brightly. The sight of her, her moans, the way she rode him, was too much for Ethan. With a guttural growl, he came inside her, shoving everything he could into her, marking her with every fiber of his being. Hope's eyes rolled back in pleasure, a melodic cry of " Haaa! " escaping her, her body shaking with ecstasy.
But Ethan didn't stop. Her need, her excitement, didn't subside in the slightest, the desire that consumed him kept him hungry for more of her. He continued, his movements incessant, continuing with the sex and cumming again inside her, each climax more intense than the last, his moans mixing with hers. Hope lost count of how many times she came, her body in extreme ecstasy, her golden eyes shining like stars, her body shaking in stasis, each orgasm taking her to a place beyond reality.
They collapsed, panting, their bodies tangled together, sweat mixing on their skin. Ethan pulled her into his arms, hugging her with a strength that said he would never let her go, his lips brushing her forehead, her neck, each touch a promise. The fluorescent green faded from his eyes, replaced by a softness that reflected the moment they had just spent together.