The door clicked shut behind them—and Marcus was already there, pinning Samantha against the wood with a kiss that stole the breath from her lungs.
All the restraint they'd worn like armor, all the practiced distance they'd maintained in the Observatory, shattered the second his mouth claimed hers. There was no strategy now. Just them.
She didn't ease into it—she met him with equal urgency, fingers curling into his shirt, pulling him closer, her body already arching toward his. Her moan vibrated between them, half frustration, half relief.
"God, finally," she gasped against his lips.
Marcus's laugh came out rough, breathless. "Yeah. No more waiting."
His hands fumbled at the buttons of her blouse, fingers shaking—not from hesitation, but from the sheer need of her. They'd been coiled too tightly, stretched too thin, and now everything was unraveling at once.
But then—something shifted.
He slowed.
