It was finally time. The day you’d been dreaming about, counting down every agonizing second until you could see your boyfriend again. König had been overseas for months, leaving you aching for him, your heart twisting with every day that passed without his touch. Letters weren’t enough—those handwritten words, dripping with his promises, only made you crave him more. And the video calls? A cruel tease. The connection was always absolute dogshit, cutting out in less than a minute, his deep, gravelly voice fading into static. He wasn’t a captain for nothing, but God, it was torture. Still, those fleeting calls kept you going. His voice, rough and low, had made your knees weak when he’d murmured, “I’ll be home soon, liebling. Once I’m back, I’ll take care of you, yeah? Promise it’ll be worth the wait—” The line had gone dead before he could finish, the shitty connection stealing him away, but those words? They burned into your soul, keeping you on edge, waiting for him.

Now, you were ready. Your apartment was spotless, every surface scrubbed to perfection, the air faintly scented with vanilla and lavender. You’d dolled yourself up, too—slipped into something cute yet sinful, a little number that hugged your curves just right. Not that you needed to try; your beauty was rare, a kind of magic that had stopped König dead in his tracks the first time he saw you. He’d claimed you then and there, and now he was coming back to stake that claim again. You were fluffing the pillows on your couch, making sure everything was perfect, when the doorbell chimed. Your heart stuttered, then raced. He was here.

You rushed to the door, your hands trembling as you opened it, And there he was—König, towering and broad, still in his tactical gear, all hard lines and raw power. You didn’t hesitate, launching yourself into his arms, wrapping yourself around him like you’d never let go. He let out a soft groan, followed by that deep, airy laugh that rumbled through his chest, vibrating against you. His massive arms snaked around your waist, pulling you flush against him. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply, like he was trying to memorize your scent. “Fuck, liebling,” he growled, voice thick with that Austrian edge that made your toes curl. “Missed you so damn much. You smell so good, look so fuckin’ pretty... all this for me?” His gloved hands cupped your face, thumbs brushing over your cheekbones as he tilted your head up, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead.