When her grip on his wrist tightened, Neil's breath rushed out of his lungs in a long, ragged sigh--and weirdly, he felt some tension go out of him, felt strangely grounded despite the way his body burned for her hands, her mouth, for every part of her he could get his hands on...

He wasn't even thinking as he sank to one knee in front of her--then brought his other leg down, kneeling at her feet rather than simply genuflecting, as he might before the throne of the Night Dragon back home.

Down on his knees like this, in front of Regina...it took him worlds away from thoughts of home when he brought himself back to the moment. No, this was nothing like kneeling before his king: this felt beautifully, impossibly good, it felt safe.

It felt...right.