The darkness wasn't absolute.
Crimson and violet neon bled through the halfclosed blinds, painting their skin in thin, bloody stripes.
All that could be heard in the room were two breaths and the distant, muffled heartbeat of a city that never slept.Verosika straddled his hips, still wearing the shredded remnants of her dress; the straps barely clinging to her shoulders.
She didn't rush to take it off completely.
Didn't need to.
Her palms lay flat against his chest; she could feel Malerion's heart hammering, steady but faster than it had any right to be.He hadn't touched her yet the way he could have.
His hands rested on her thighs, heavy, calm.
As if he were waiting for her to decide when caution finally ended.So she decided.Slowly, never breaking eye contact, Verosika lifted herself just enough.
One roll of her hips.
Another.
The mattress sighed softly as she sank back down; this time with nothing left between them.They both stopped breathing for a second.Malerion shut his eyes for one brief heartbeat; the longest surrender he'd ever allowed himself.
When he opened them again, every trace of distance was gone.At last his hands moved.
They slid up her back, fingers catching in the tattered silk that still pretended to be a dress.
One firm tug and the fabric tore with a whisper, falling to the floor like dying embers.
Verosika smiled; not the stage predator smile the whole Lust Ring knew.
A small, private one.
The kind only her dressing room mirror had seen at three in the morning."Finally," she murmured, leaning in until her lips brushed his ear.
"You ruined something of mine.""I'll give you more," he answered, voice low and rough with everything he hadn't said yet.She didn't reply with words.
Instead she began to move; slow, deliberate circles, as though memorising every inch of how he felt inside her.
His hands tightened on her hips, guiding nothing; only following.
Letting her set the pace.Because he knew what she needed: not another person who took.
Someone who let her give.With every roll of her hips the tension climbed, but it didn't explode.
This wasn't post battle sex.
It wasn't a prize or a release.
Something far more dangerous.It was permission.
Verosika straightened slightly, arching her back, letting her hair spill down like dark water.
The neon caught the line of her throat, her collarbones, the curve of her breasts.
Malerion watched as if he'd just realised beauty could be a weapon he no longer feared.His hand travelled upward, stopping just beneath her breast.
He didn't touch yet.
Waited."Touch me," she said quietly.
Not a plea.
A command wrapped in silk.
He touched.
Fingers splayed across her skin, thumb brushing her nipple; slow, reverent.
Verosika exhaled a shuddering breath, leaning back farther, bracing her hands on his thighs behind her.
The shift took him deeper; they both felt it at the same moment.
Silence shattered with her first real moan.
Malerion sat up abruptly, arms wrapping around her, pulling her flush against him until not a millimetre of space remained.
Now he set the rhythm; slow, deep, relentless.
Her nails raked down his back, leaving red trails that would look like maps tomorrow.
Their mouths crashed together again; no gentleness this time.
Teeth, tongues, breaths stolen from one another.Verosika broke away first, just far enough to meet his eyes."Don't stop," she whispered.
"Not tonight. Not… ever."His answer was a harder, deeper thrust.
And one word he rarely used:"Never."Lights off, but they glowed; slick with sweat, masks gone.When she came; the first time that night, though not the last; her body bowed like a drawn bowstring, head thrown back, mouth open in a silent scream.
Malerion held her tight, letting her tremble in his arms, lips tracing her neck, her collarbones, every inch he could reach.Then he flipped them in one fluid motion; now she lay beneath him, hair fanned across the pillow like black fire.She looked up at him, eyes glittering, lips parted."Now you," she said.
"Show me what it looks like when you choose."And he did.Slowly.
Thoroughly.
Without hurry and without mercy.When he finally followed her over the edge; Name on his lips, quiet, almost a prayer; he pressed his forehead to hers and stayed inside her for a long, long moment.
Afterward he collapsed beside her, pulling her close as if the night itself might try to take her away.
Verosika curled into him, one leg hooked over his hip, palm resting over the heart that still raced.
Outside, Sin Rouge kept screaming, dancing, dying, and being reborn.
Inside, for the first time in centuries, there was a silence that wasn't empty.
It was full. And both of them knew they would never be the same again.