//CLARA//

I needed the heat of him to burn away the month of ice Aunt Cornelia had pumped into my veins. I kissed him like I was drowning and he was the only pocket of air left in the world.

He kissed me back but then he pulled away just an inch.

"Not here," he rasped. "Not in this room where the air tastes like her."

His hand had closed around mine, pulling me away from the stifling space from his study. Away from Aunt Cornelia’s lingering presence. Up the hidden staircase, and down the forgotten corridor until we stood in this broken dome located right on the mansion’s rooftop.

The moonlight pouring through the broken panes like liquid silver. Telescopes, their brass bodies tarnished, stood like sentinels among the dead leaves that littered the floor. The city sprawled beneath us like a sleeping beast, the sky vast and endless above.

It was quiet. It was isolated.

He stepped closer. The air between us crackled, thick with the scent of old wood. His fingers brushed against my cheek, calloused and warm, and I leaned into his touch like a flower turning toward the sun.

"You’re shaking," he murmured.

He’s right. I am. I still can’t believe he’s standing right in front of me.

I swallowed. "You’re really here. I thought I hallucinated you so many times. I stopped trusting my own head. I thought I’d finally snapped."

"I am right here."

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. Then his hand slid into my hair, gripping the roots just tight enough to make my scalp tingle.

"I am real." He tilted my head back until I had nowhere else to look. His breath was hot against my lips. "I spent every night in the dirt, the smell of woodsmoke and grit making me sick because it wasn’t you."

"Touch me, Casimir. Please." I pleaded desperately, my voice never sounded so vulnerable and at the same time miserable. "Just make it stop... everything... make the rest of them go away."

"Clara," he whispered, like my name was a prayer.

And then he kissed me.

Not like he was drowning. He was remembering. His mouth crashed into mine, hungry like a man who had been starving and had finally found food. I gasped against his lips, my hands flying to his chest, gripping tightly.

He tasted like whiskey and sin, like every forbidden thing I’d ever wanted. His beard scraped against my skin, the rough texture sending a shiver down my spine.

His tongue parted my lips, demanding entrance, and I gave it to him. A moan escaped me as he deepened the kiss, his hands sliding down to grip my waist, pulling me flush against him.

I could feel the hard length of him pressing into my stomach, the evidence of how much he wanted me. How much he needed me as well.

"Casimir," I breathed against his mouth, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling just enough to make him groan.

He broke the kiss, his forehead resting against mine.

"I’ve dreamed of this," he admitted. "Of you. Of the way you taste. The way you sound when you’re falling apart."

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Instead, I reached for the buttons of his coat, my fingers fumbling in my haste. He helped me, shrugging it off before his hands went to the laces of my corset. The fabric loosened, the pressure easing, and I sucked in a deep breath, my chest rising and falling rapidly.

Casimir’s eyes darkened as he took in the sight of me, the way my breasts swelled over the top of the corset, the way my nipples pebbled under his gaze.

"You’re so beautiful," he murmured, thick with desire. "Like something out of a dream."

I didn’t feel beautiful. I felt wanted. And that was so much better.

His hands slid up my sides, his thumbs brushing over my nipples through the thin fabric of my chemise. I arched into his touch, a whimper escaping my lips.

He groaned, his mouth finding mine again as he backed me up against a nearby crate. The wood was rough beneath my palms as I braced myself, my legs parting instinctively as he stepped between them.

"Wrap your legs around me," he commanded, leaving no room for argument.

I obeyed. He tore my chemise off, ripped it straight down the middle and tossed the remains aside. I locked my ankles behind his back. The position brought us flush together, the heat of him searing through his trousers. His hands gripped my ass, lifting me as he ground against me. I gasped.

"I hated you," I confessed. "And then I missed you. So much I couldn’t breathe."

His grip tightened, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of my ass.

"I know, little bird," he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear. "I know."

I could feel the wetness between my thighs. I needed him. His cock was hard against me, the thick length of him pressing insistently against my core. I rocked my hips and he groaned, his forehead dropping to my shoulder.

"You’re killing me," he growled.

"Then do something about it," I challenged, my nails scraping against the nape of his neck.

He didn’t need to be told twice. His hands went to the waistband of his trousers, undoing the buttons. The sound of fabric tearing filled the air as he freed himself, his cock springing free, thick and heavy and perfect.

I reached for him, my fingers wrapping around his length, stroking him from root to tip. He hissed, his hips jerking into my touch.

"Clara," he warned, growling.

I ignored him. My thumb swiped over the bead of pre-cum leaking from his tip. I brought it to my mouth and sucked it off my skin. The taste of him made my thighs clench with need.

His hips jerked. His hand fisted in my hair, yanking my head back.

"You’re going to make me lose my mind," he gritted out, his voice wrecked.

He looked like a caveman. Unshaven. Wild. And God help me, I wanted him to devour me.

I smiled up at him, still sucking my thumb clean. "Good. I need you feral."

Then I guided him to my entrance, the head of his cock pressing against my slick folds.

I met his gaze, my breath hitching, my mouth slackening as he pushed inside me, inch by inch, stretching me, filling me.

The sensation was overwhelming, the burn of him entering me mixing with the pleasure of finally being whole again. I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders as he bottomed out, his hips flush against mine.

"Fuck," he groaned, his forehead resting against mine. "You feel like heaven. Always been."

He filled me in completely. His breath mingled with mine while his cock pulsed inside me. He pulled back slightly before thrusting back in, slow and deep, his eyes never leaving mine.

"I dreamed about this," he admitted, his voice rough. "Every night. The way you feel. The sounds you make."

I whimpered, my head falling back as he hit a spot deep inside me. "Then why didn’t you come back sooner?"

He stilled, his cock buried to the hilt inside me.

"Because I was a coward," he grunted. "Because I thought you deserved better. Because every time I almost turned around, I told myself you were happier without me."

I shook my head, my fingers tangling in his hair.

"I wasn’t," I whispered. "I was dying, Casimir. Slowly. Quietly."

His eyes darkened, something primal flashing in their depths.

"You’re mine, Clara." he growled, his hips snapping forward, driving into me with a force that made me cry out. "I’m never letting you go. Do you understand? Never."

"We can agree to that," I gasped, my back arching as he hit that spot again. "I’m yours. Every fucking inch."

He didn’t let up, his thrusts growing harder, deeper, his cock pistoning in and out of me with a rhythm that had me seeing stars.

The crate creaked beneath us, the wood groaning in protest, but neither of us cared. All that mattered was this. His hands gripped my hips. His mouth found mine again, swallowing my moans.

"Casimir," I gasped, my nails raking down his back. "Harder. I’m not going to break."

He groaned as he obeyed, his thrusts becoming punishing, his cock slamming into me with a force that had me seeing stars. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the dome, mixing with our ragged breaths and the creaking of the crate.

"I know you won’t. You’re the strongest thing I’ve ever known" he growled against my lips. "It’s like your body knows every goddamn time before you do."

I couldn’t answer. I could only feel.