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He catches my hand, thumb stroking my knuckles in a gentle caress. “Tell me something sweet. Something from home.”

So I share stories while I bathe him. I talk about the daily ongoings of the palace in his absence as the cool night wind sings through the umberheart trees.

I work the cloth down his arm. “The Bricklayer’s Guild had their quarterly meeting.”

Sterling grunts, signaling his mild irritation. “Let me guess. They’re trying to get out of the Eastern District repairs again.”

“They tried.” I offer a sly smile. “I reminded them of their contractual obligations.”

“Good decision.” His eyelids slide to half-mast as my fingers trail through his silky locks. “They’ll respect you more for it.”

I tell him more about the two newborn dragons. How the hatchlings stumbled on wobbly legs, their wings still damp and clinging to their sides and their big eyes blinking.

Sterling’s wet hands capture my wrists mid-sentence. “Join me.”

When I glimpse the vulnerability shining in his eyes—a softness he only reveals to me—I know I can’t refuse.

I undress wordlessly, my skin growing hot beneath his intense stare. The moment I slip into the water beside him, he tugs me close, yanking my back against his chest so his arms can encircle me.

“Now it’s your turn.” I settle against his water-slicked skin. “Tell me something wonderful.”

With his lips press to my temple, his voice rumbles through me as he begins to speak. He talks of a coastline where the sand shimmers like crushed diamonds, of caves with walls that glow blue in the darkness. He describes birds with wings spanning twice my height that soar above mountains so tall their peaks disappear into clouds.

I close my eyes, letting his words paint pictures in my mind.

His hands sketch erotic patterns on my skin. “I wish you could have seen it all. But at least we’re going together tomorrow. After this last trip, I refuse to go on a journey like that without you ever again.”

“Promise?” I twist in his embrace to meet his eyes, causing the water to lap gently around us.

Instead of answering, he kisses me, slowly and deliberately. He cradles my face as if I might break. I taste his longing, his relief at being home. When we part, his forehead rests against mine, and our breath mingles in the space between us.

“I promise.” His hands slip down my sides, tracing the contours of my body as if recommitting the curves to memory. “Being without you is pure torture. Every day is long, boring, dreadful, and bland. Like my senses are dulled and the world is just a terrible place.”

“Tedious. Joyless. Gray.” My own hands wander, finding the places where he’s most sensitive. The hollow of his throat, the inside of his wrist. The spot just below his ear that makes him shiver whenever I stroke or kiss it.

Abruptly, he gathers me into his arms and lifts me. As he stands, water cascades from our bodies, and I wrap my legs around his waist. My pulse begins to accelerate as he carries me to the padded stone bench against the wall.

He lays me down with a gentleness that causes my heart to ache, his eyes never straying from mine. “I thought of you every minute of every day. Every night spent without you. You even filled my dreams.”

I pull him down to me, needing to experience the delicious sensation of his weight on my body. “Show me.”

Sterling takes his time, as if we have all the hours in the world at our disposal. His lips skim a leisurely path from my mouth to my neck, across my collarbone, between my breasts. Every touch is reverent, calculated, and draws small whimpers from me that echo in the steam-filled chamber.

We touch each other with the synchronicity of lovers who know each other’s bodies intimately. There’s no hurry, no desperation. Just the slow, heavy pleasure of reconnection.

With our eyes closed, our bodies slide together without hesitation. Lips to chests. Hands to thighs. My ankles around his waist in a position that feels as second-nature as breathing. My nails trail down his scalp.

His hands find mine, and our fingers interlock as he positions himself above me. “Look at me.”

I do, holding his heated gaze as he enters me with exquisite tenderness. While he joins us together as one, I watch the play of emotions on his face. Pleasure, yes. But also relief, love.

Home.

I lift my hips to meet him, and we set into a rhythm as ancient as the stone beneath us.

The world narrows to just us while his body and mine move together in the dim light and damp heat. The harsh rasp of our breathing grows more ragged as we climb toward release, as his hand slips between us and strokes the center of my desire.

When I shatter, it’s with his name on my lips. My fingers press into his shoulders hard enough to leave marks. Moments later, he follows, burying his face in the curve of my neck while a tremor racks his powerful body.