“Dana …” Rux grunted.
More starlight and stardust moved through her body and massaged every fear she had ever felt in her entire life. It lingered at her core, then spread like a gentle stretch as she felt Rux’s body tense and relax as he let himself go inside her.
Dana felt abruptly aware of the faint glimmer streaming through her window, the soft brush of wind from the city air, and the neon buzz of the traffic lights nearby. She could feel everything, the way her blood flowed through her veins and each rhythmic beat of her heart.
She realized that she was exhilarated, but she was also terrified.
Rux’s body fell into her, and she found herself loving his weight atop hers. She curled her legs around him and held his head as they panted into each other’s ears.
“Dana,” he said quietly.
The sound of her name on his tongue gave her shivers. The way he said it was like she was a precious treasure to be honed and taken care of meticulously. She felt like his name sat on her tongue, too, like the sweetest of honey.
“Rux,” she whispered back.
Rux moved his head down her breasts, then rested against one. Dana smiled, stroking his hair and tracing her fingers along his jawline.
“Well,” he said, looking up at her. “It doesn’t get any better than that.”
Dana was glowing. She didn’t have any words that were right. Words that would fit into exactly what she was feeling for him. It was surreal and strange and a petrifying ball of emotion.
“I don’t even know my name anymore,” Dana said with a smirk.
Rux kissed each breast, trailing between them, then met her lips. He kissed her deeply, and she held onto him tightly, never wanting to let go.
“Don’t worry,” he said, that gorgeous smile making her heart slam in her chest. “I’ll help you remember.”
Dana could feel the ache of her cello in the other room, calling out to her, stirring an inconvenient truth.
Damn it. I’m fucked.