When I settled over her again she was flushed from her chest to her cheeks, eyes wide and glassy. I braced on one elbow so I wouldn’t put too much weight on her and used my free hand to guide myself against her. The head of my cock slid through the slick heat I’d worked into her, notching at her entrance.

“Still with me?”

She nodded fast. “Yes. Please.”

I pushed in slowly. She was tight—tight enough that I had to pause halfway and just breathe, letting her adjust. Her hands flew to my shoulders, nails digging in, and a thin, high sound left her throat. I stayed still, kissing her temple, her cheek, the corner of her mouth, murmuring that she was doing fine, that we could stop if she needed to.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered. “It’s just… a lot. But good. Keep going.”

I sank the rest of the way in one careful thrust. The feeling of her wrapped around me, hot and clenching, punched a low groan out of my chest. Wren’s back arched off the bed. For a second she just held on, breathing in short little pants against my neck. Then her hips shifted experimentally and she gasped at the new angle.

“Okay,” she said, almost to herself. “Okay, that’s—”

I started to move. Slow, shallow strokes at first, just rocking into her so she could feel the drag and the stretch without being overwhelmed. Every time I bottomed out she made a soft, involuntary sound. Her legs came up on their own, heels resting against the backs of my thighs, and the change let me sink deeper. I felt her get wetter around me, the slick sounds starting to fill the quiet room.

“That’s it,” I murmured against her ear. “Just like that. You’re doing so well.”

She turned her face into my neck and clung harder. The nervous stiffness was melting out of her body with every thrust. Her hips began to meet mine instead of just taking what I gave her—small, greedy rolls that made her breath catch. I shifted my weight, angled my hips so the base of my cock ground against her clit on the downstroke, and the reaction was immediate. Wren’s eyes flew open, mouth parting on a broken moan.

“There— right there, Ezra, don’t—”

I kept the rhythm steady and deep, one hand sliding under her ass to tilt her the way she needed. She was shaking now, thighs trembling against my sides, little punched-out sounds leaving her every time I drove in. The Weave started to stir around her—faint at first, a soft electric hum against my skin that grew brighter as her pleasure climbed. It wasn’t the violent storm it had been with Maren or even the sharp flare with Saya. This was warmer, denser, like heat soaking into both of us.

“I can feel it,” she gasped. “It’s— oh god, it’s building—”

“Let it,” I told her. “I’ve got you.”

Her nails raked down my back. She was meeting every thrust now, chasing it, the soft apologetic girl from the simulator gone. In her place was someone desperate and open, whimpering my name and grinding up into me like she couldn’t get close enough. I felt her start to tighten, the flutter of her walls around my cock turning rhythmic.

“Ezra— I’m—”

“Go ahead. Come for me.”

She broke with a sharp, startled cry, body locking up as the orgasm rolled through her. The Weave surged—warm gold light behind my closed eyes, a rush of power that flooded the bond and pulled me right to the edge with her. I drove in deep and stayed there, grinding through it while she pulsed around me, and the second wave of her climax dragged mine out of me. I came hard, buried to the hilt, spilling inside her in long pulses while she shook and clung and made soft, overwhelmed sounds against my shoulder.

We stayed locked together for a long moment, both of us breathing hard. The Weave slowly settled into a steady, glowing warmth instead of the sharp flare. Wren’s legs were still wrapped around me. When I finally lifted my head she looked dazed and flushed and, for the first time since she’d knocked on my door, not scared.

A small, shaky smile touched her mouth.

“That… was a lot better than I thought it would be,” she whispered.

I huffed a quiet laugh and kissed her forehead, still inside her, still catching my breath.

“Yeah,” I said. “It was.”