The silence that followed was a sacred thing, a holy hush broken only by their ragged, synchronized breaths and the distant, cosmic hum of the restored dimension.
Jax remained a heavy, grounding weight atop her, his body a living blanket that radiated a primal, possessive heat. Willow felt utterly, completely boneless, every muscle liquefied by the sheer force of their joining.
She was a vessel, filled to overflowing with his essence, and a profound sense of rightness, of completion, settled deep within her soul.
After what felt like an eternity, Jax stirred.
He began to move, not with the aggressive power of before, but with a slow, deliberate grace. He propped himself up on his elbows, his golden eyes, now softened with a sated, tender light, gazing down at her.
He studied her face as if memorizing every detail, the flush on her cheeks, the blissed-out glaze in her emerald eyes, the slight parting of her swollen lips.
