The house was technically finished. Kendis, Tony, and a revolving construction crew had done the impossible and completed the build in six weeks. Still, Tony couldn’t help seeing the flaws. At heart, he was a perfectionist, and there were so many things he still wanted to tweak. As Kendis ruefully pointed out, if he had his way, he would be tweaking the house’s design until doomsday.

Tony could admit that the structure was sound.

The wiring had been integrated, and after a long battle with Concordia, JARVIS now had access to every system Tony had designed except the magical ones, which occasionally responded to his diagnostic scans by producing readings that translated roughly to mind your business.

The walls had been painted a muted blue-gray, and the box molding was crisp, just as they had planned. The chevron floor beneath his work boots combined three shades of dark wood in precisely the pattern he and Kendis had argued about for sixteen days.

Kendis had been right, but Tony planned on taking that admission to his grave.

There was no furniture yet. No art on the walls, no rugs on the floor, no carefully chosen lamps, no Alke’s dog bed, and no plants. Kendis’s books and framed photographs were still in storage.

He didn’t have much to move in. The things he cared about—his computers, bots, and tools—were still in the Malibu workshop. He still hadn’t finished his basement laboratory, but in a few weeks, his bots would get to see their new home.

Even so, the emptiness made the foyer feel enormous. Their footsteps traveled all the way up the staircase and returned in soft echoes.

It smelled of fresh paint, sawdust, floor sealant, and the bergamot tea Kendis had abandoned on the bottom step.

It smelled new but not sterile. As he walked through his new home, it felt as though the house was watching him. There was an air of anticipation all around him that unsettled Tony.

He had built compounds, laboratories, factories, satellites, armored suits, and several devices that could have destabilized small countries if Pepper had not objected in writing.

Yet none of those places watched him.

He could feel it in the faint shift of the air whenever he walked into a room, as if the building had turned its attention toward him. Doors sometimes opened before he touched them. Lights warmed when Kendis entered and became aggressively practical when Tony did. Once, after he criticized the upstairs hallway for being three inches too narrow, the hallway had widened and locked him inside it for eleven minutes.

Concordia had opinions and was not shy about making them known. She liked Kendis but barely tolerated him. The house understood that Kendis and Tony were a package deal and was clearly unhappy about it. It helped that Tony had personally installed radiant heating in every bathroom.

He hoped the heated floors might eventually tip the scales, but Concordia remained unimpressed.

Tony jumped when he heard someone clear their throat behind him. He spun around to see Kendis standing there.

His spouse looked gorgeous in one of his old MIT shirts with the hem cut into a crop top, paint-streaked jeans, and work boots. There was a smear of blue-gray paint near their jaw that Tony had been resisting the urge to wipe away for the last twenty minutes.

Tony looked down at the brown lacquered wooden box in her hands, ravens engraved across its lid. One eyebrow rose as he shot Kendis a look. “Nope, absolutely not.”

“I haven’t said anything.”

“You brought out the ominous witch box.” Tony pointed at the box.

“It is not ominous.”

Tony crossed his arms and lifted an eyebrow. He had watched enough horror movies to know that nothing good came of a witch—well, in this case, a wixen—holding a magical box.

Kendis’s mouth twitched. “We need to finish binding the protections.”

“I thought we already did that.” Tony blinked. “The whole big magical ward ritual thing with Hermione and the Weasleys, remember? Besides, I installed a perimeter system with facial recognition, infrared tracking, aerial surveillance, nonlethal countermeasures, and protocols specifically designed to detect people pretending to be delivery drivers.”

“We did, but we still have one more ritual to do,” Kendis said with a sigh. “And frankly, Concordia does not care about your security upgrades.”

“She should.” Tony threw up his hands. “It cost six million dollars!”

The floor beneath Tony’s boots gave a small, unmistakable thump.

He looked down and frowned at the floor. “Did the house just kick me?”

“She’s sensitive about being reduced to a security system.” Kendis shrugged. “And remember, she used to kill developers before we got here. Concordia is a bit sensitive about consent.”

“Hey, I have permits!” Tony protested.

“Concordia gave you her consent.” Kendis walked past him and placed the box on the bottom step. “That’s why she let you build.”

“Let us build,” Tony pointed out. He was not going to let Kendis forget that she had been as active a participant in this project as he had. He would never admit it to her, but he had been miffed that she hadn’t let him simply build the grandiose house he had planned.

Tony was used to getting what he wanted, but Kendis was no pushover. The part of him that had been annoyed was quickly overshadowed by the respect and admiration he held for Kendis for not backing down.

“That’s the problem.”

Tony narrowed his eyes as she opened the box, abruptly pulling him from his thoughts. Inside were candles, bundles of herbs, a small bottle of dark red wine, two pieces of chalk, a coil of copper wire, and a folded length of black silk.

Tony pointed at the silk. “That is not construction equipment.”

“No.”

“Is this going where I think it’s going?”

Kendis stopped arranging the candles, and something heavy hit Tony’s stomach as he realized where this was going. He stared at his spouse as she placed the candles in a circle, one at each cardinal point: north, east, south, and west.

The thing was, Tony knew that Kendis was magical. He had watched her repair broken windows with a flick of her wand and had even drunk a magical potion a time or two. Hell, Tony had once had a front-row seat to Kendis and Chester Coil battling, rage and magic flying between them.

Yet this was the thing that took him aback. His spouse was actually going to conduct a magical ritual in the foyer of their new home. Tony’s sensibilities wanted to walk off in protest at how utterly bizarre his life had become.

“Kendis—” Tony opened his mouth, but for once, he didn’t know what to say.

“Before you even start,” Kendis said as she placed the silk, herbs, bottle of wine, and copper coil in the center. “It’s a very old form of household magic.”

“Of course it is.” Tony pinched the bridge of his nose.

“It creates a direct bond between the owners, the house, and the land.” Kendis turned to look at him, her hands on her hips as she met Tony’s incredulous glare.

“We already own the house.” Tony threw up his hands. “I have documents with actual signatures on them.”

Kendis snorted. “Magic does not care about California property law.”

“Magic should.” Tony glared at her and crossed his arms. “California property law is terrifying.”

Kendis sat on the bottom step and rested their forearms on their knees. The humor did not entirely leave their expression, but enough of it faded to tell Tony that beneath the ridiculous circumstances lay something real.

That was the dangerous thing about Kendis. They could make him laugh right up until the moment they reached into his chest and touched something he had armored over.

“Concordia knows you built here with my permission,” they said. “She knows you’re my husband. She recognizes your work, but she doesn’t know you the way she knows me.”

“I’m not difficult to know,” Tony said with a sigh. “I could argue that I am one of the most well-known people in the world.”

“We both know that most of what’s published about you is complete and utter shite,” Kendis replied with a raised eyebrow.

Tony looked away because she was right. The Tony Stark the world knew was a role he played because the real him was too much for most people. His ADHD alone would make people run for cover, especially if they ever caught him in the middle of a hyperfixation.

Kendis’s expression softened. “The protections will follow me instinctively. If something gets through the wards, the house will defend me before I even know I’m in danger.”

“That is the point of protections.” Tony could live with Kendis having more protection.

“But you live here too.”

Tony paused. His gaze traveled from the staircase and its bare steps to the naked walls and the sunlight streaming through the enormous arched window behind the staircase, casting geometric shadows across the unfinished foyer.

Kendis continued carefully. “The ritual lets Concordia recognize you as one of her people. Not because you belong to me, but because you belong here.”

This was a place where he belonged. It was such a strange concept. He had no shortage of houses he owned or had built, but those places were for sleeping, bringing one-night stands home, and working. What Kendis was talking about was a real home, a place Tony regarded with the pride and expected detachment of someone who had never really had one.

The Stark estate on Long Island had been a showpiece, a stage for his father’s wealth rather than a real home.

But this house was different.

Kendis and Tony had done everything together. She had stood beside him in work boots, arguing about load-bearing walls and laughing when he nearly fell off the scaffolding. They had installed flooring until three in the morning, eaten takeout on paint buckets, and fallen asleep beneath drop cloths because neither wanted to drive back to Malibu.

It was the first home Tony had ever built for the purpose of living rather than proving something.

Tony looked again at the circle, his gaze stopping at the black silk. “So what kind of ritual is this?”

There was a long silence. Tony’s gaze slowly turned to meet his spouse’s eyes. She was pointedly not looking at him, and Tony narrowed his eyes.

“Kendis?” Tony asked suspiciously.

Kendis coughed. “It needs a certain type of energy.”

Tony was a genius, and it took him no time at all to put the pieces together. He stared at his spouse incredulously.

“A sex ritual?” Tony coughed. “Did I go to sleep and suddenly wake up in a porno?”

“Tony!” Kendis hissed, and the chandelier moved again. This time, it wasn’t threatening, but he got the impression that Concordia was laughing at her.

“No.” Tony laughed incredulously. “You’re telling me that the easiest way to secure the property is to have sex in the foyer.”

Kendis pressed their lips together.

“Say it,” Tony demanded, finding it utterly adorable that the same person who had shamelessly blown him in a Stark Industries elevator a few days ago was now this bashful.

“I am trying to preserve the dignity of an ancient magical practice.”

“Kendis.”

“Fine!” Kendis threw up her hands. “The ritual requires sex in front of the grand staircase.”

Tony spread his arms. “Thank you.”

“It symbolizes trust, creation, shared authority, and the joining of two lives beneath the heart of the home.”

“It symbolizes our future guests never sitting on this floor.”

“Why would they sit on the floor?” Kendis frowned, her nose wrinkling in confusion.

“With our friends.” Tony shrugged. “They would do it just because they could.”

Kendis laughed, the sound bouncing through the empty foyer. Tony hated that it worked on him. He hated the warmth that moved through his chest every time they laughed without restraint, as if he had personally accomplished something.

“So Concordia is going to watch?” Tony asked, a bit uncomfortable that his sentient house was going to watch them fuck. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d had sex with witnesses.

Kendis considered that.

Tony pointed accusingly at the floor. “That hesitation was too long.”

“She’s the land.” Kendis shrugged. “There is no way to exclude her from a land-binding ritual.”

“So the house watches.”

“The house participates.”

“That is worse.” Tony rubbed his head because they were seriously talking about a threesome with a sentient house during a sex ritual.

A draft moved through the foyer, carrying the scent of pine from outside. One of the candles rolled out of the box and stopped neatly against Tony’s boot.

He picked it up and noticed that the wax was dark red. A thin copper thread ran through it from wick to base.

Tony turned it between his fingers as his thoughts raced with the possibilities.

“What happens if I say no?”

“Nothing,” Kendis answered immediately. “We find another way. It will take longer and probably involve blood, three lunar cycles, and a truly unreasonable amount of chanting, but nothing happens unless you agree.”

There was no disappointment and no pressure, just a choice. That, more than anything, made the choice easier.

Tony stepped closer and held the candle out to them. “One condition.”

Kendis accepted it. “What?”

“We take this to our grave.”

“Agreed,” Kendis said with a nod. “The last thing I need is a lecture from Hermione on untested sex rituals.”

“JARVIS is going to delete all records of this.” Tony sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Immediately.”

“And if this house ever uses what happens tonight to win an argument, I’m converting the entire basement to concrete.”

The chandelier above them flickered.

Tony pointed upward. “You heard me.”

Kendis rose and took his hand.

Their palm was rough from weeks of work and warm against his. The ruby-and-gold wedding set on their finger caught the light. Tony looked at it, then at the dark green eyes watching him with more care than he had ever known how to handle.

“This strengthens the protections?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“And my connection to Concordia?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re certain this isn’t an elaborate scheme to christen the house before we own a bed?” Tony asked, wiggling his eyebrows. “Because there are easier ways to do that.”

Kendis smiled slowly. “Those things are not mutually exclusive.”

Tony drew them closer by the belt loops. “Opaque windows.”

Kendis flicked two fingers and sunlight suddenly vanished behind a veil of warm gold.

“Cameras.”

“Offline,” JARVIS said.

“Doors?”

Every lock in the house clicked at once, and the sound traveled outward, through the foyer, down the halls, and into the unfinished rooms.

Kendis reached up and wiped a streak of sawdust from Tony’s beard. “Still unsure?”

“No.” Tony smiled. “There are worse reasons to make love to you.”

Kendis laughed as she leaned her forehead against his. “You are such a sap.”

“Offensively adoring,” Tony countered. “I am making it into a whole brand.”

Kendis giggled as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He could feel the living silence of the house around them, the pulse of his arc reactor, and the steady warmth of Kendis’s hand at the back of his neck.

“No,” he said softly. “I want her to know me.”

Kendis kissed him, and Tony groaned as her lips moved over his. He licked and nipped at those lush lips as she ground her hips against him. He pressed his hard cock against her stomach. The fabric of his jeans only dampened the pleasure of having her pressed against him. In truth, Tony had been half-hard since he realized that Kendis was preparing a sex ritual. It didn’t take much for Tony to get hard when Kendis was around. He was ready for her.

Kendis and Tony broke apart, panting for breath. Her lips were slick and swollen, and Tony flashed back to how they had felt tight around his length. She took his hand and led him into the circle.

The first candle lit itself, then the second, third, and fourth. Then every candle in the circle flared gold, and the house drew one long, quiet breath.

The two of them stood in the center for a long beat, and then Kendis pulled up her tank top and threw it on the floor. Underneath it was a black sports bra, her chest heaving for breath. Tony peeled off his dirty, paint-splattered T-shirt and then bent down to untie his work boots. His fingers remained steady even as pre-cum dampened his boxers, his body already aching for Kendis.

Tony quickly toed off his boots and socks, then unbuckled his jeans and shoved his jeans and boxers down in one motion. His hard cock sprang free and pressed against his stomach. Kendis wasn’t idle; out of the corner of his eye, he could see her taking off the rest of her clothing.

Once they were both naked, their clothes strewn everywhere, Tony let his gaze trail down her body: her beautiful face, her cornrows pinned into a messy bun, her golden-brown skin, her ample breasts, and those stiff, pert brown nipples that were begging to be sucked. Then his gaze dropped to the apex of her legs, where her pussy glistened with her juices.

Tony was a little disappointed that she didn’t have a cock today because he had been dreaming of returning the favor by choking on it, but his disappointment faded at the possibility of eating out Kendis until she cried.

He walked over, cupped her face in his hands, and kissed her again. Kendis gave as much as she got, their tongues dueling in that familiar battle that made his blood sing. His hands were not idle; they caressed and cupped their breasts, squeezing and releasing them over and over.

Kendis arched into him as he squeezed her breasts. Tony felt something slide down his naked back, and he froze.

“What the hell?” Tony asked as he broke the kiss.

“You feel that too?” Kendis asked.

“Like phantom fingers?” Tony asked with a frown. The floor pulsed beneath him, and the chandelier swayed from side to side.

“Threesome with a sentient house, right.” Tony closed his eyes. “This has to be the weirdest sexual encounter I have ever had.”

“Same.” Kendis laughed.

Tony shook his head and then laid Kendis carefully on the floor. She shivered against the cold wood, and he suddenly wished they had something resembling bedding. They had tarps, but they both knew from previous experience that tarps were not the best things to sleep on.

Tony nipped at her mouth again for another second as he cupped her breasts, his fingers moving back and forth over her nipples. Kendis whimpered as he played with them, and then he ducked down and sucked her aching nipple into his mouth.

His mouth worked on her with the single-minded focus of a man who had always had a weakness for a spectacular set of tits. Tony released her nipple only to swirl his tongue around it before sucking it back into his mouth. His other hand wasn’t idle, plucking and squeezing the neglected stiff peak as Kendis bucked against him.

He licked down the curve of one breast, pressed a kiss to the underside, and then switched to the other nipple as his hard length rubbed against her leg, leaving a trail of pre-cum in its wake. Tony briefly considered pushing her tits together and fucking the valley between them until he came all over her beautiful face.

The ritual, Tony thought, suddenly remembering why they were there.

“Tony,” Kendis pleaded, her hand running through Tony’s dark hair, her nails scratching his scalp and adding fuel to his desire.

Tony pushed her thighs apart, the lips of her cunt swollen and glistening. His mouth watered, and he dipped his head to take her swollen lips into his mouth. Tony felt his cock jerk as the taste of her flooded his tongue.

Her taste was musky, sweet, and addictive in its own right—and he hadn’t eaten her out properly yet. Tony knew from experience that her juices were more potent when they came directly from the source.

His fingers slipped inside her tight, wet warmth, and Kendis threw her head back as she rocked against him while Tony fucked her with his fingers. Her channel clenched as he delved inside her. They had been so busy with the house lately that they had only enough energy to fall into an exhausted sleep, but Tony had missed her. He had missed the way her brown skin felt against his fingertips and the taste of her.

He released her pussy lips, withdrew his fingers, and sucked his fingers into his mouth, his eyes fluttering closed as he tasted her properly.

“Tony,” Kendis called out.

His eyes opened to meet hers. Her dark green eyes were pools of desire as she looked up at him. Then, in a move Tony would have expected during a sparring match rather than in the middle of sex, Kendis tackled him and flipped him onto his back.

“Fuck,” Tony cried out in pain as his spine hit the floor hard.

“You okay?” Kendis asked, pausing as she crouched above him.

“Yeah,” Tony said because, yeah, that had hurt. But seeing his spouse like this—naked, her braids loose from the bun and falling over her shoulders, her nipples erect and glistening with his saliva—made the pain absolutely worth it.

“Tony?” Kendis narrowed her eyes.

Tony slapped her ass. “You wanted to be fucked so badly? Then ride me.”

Kendis shot him a glare but grabbed his cock. Her calloused hands felt exquisite around his length, and then she slid down onto him. Kendis and Tony cried out as her slick, hot heat clamped around him.

Kendis rose and then slammed down again. He clenched his hands around her waist, feeling phantom fingers slide down his sweat-slick body as she bounced up and down on his cock.

“Yes,” Tony hissed as he met her thrust for thrust. “You are taking my cock so well, baby.”

Kendis rolled her hips in a way that made his eyes roll back in his head, her pace brutal as the sound of skin meeting skin echoed through the house and heat rolled over him. Her focus was entirely on her own pleasure. Tony could smell fresh dirt, sex, and something else he couldn’t quite define as pleasure buzzed beneath his skin.

“You feel so good inside of me,” Kendis moaned, throwing her head back. “So thick.”

“Yeah? Ride me harder,” Tony said as his fingers found her clit and he braced his feet against the floor, slamming into her. Kendis mewed as her nails dug into his chest while she tried to hold on. “I want you to gush all over my cock.”

It took every bit of Tony’s stubborn determination not to give in to the need to come because Kendis’s pleasure was always the most important.

Then she was shuddering, her body shaking over him as Kendis came around him. Her juices drenched his cock as she reached her climax. Tony flipped her over, more carefully than she had, spread her thighs impossibly wider, and fucked back into her over and over again.

Chasing his own pleasure, Tony thrust into Kendis as her body, still recovering from the aftershocks, squeezed painfully around him. It didn’t take long. He was still pent up after going so long without his spouse, and after only a few thrusts, Tony spilled his hot seed inside Kendis.

Tony gave in to the rush of pleasure as his body shook above her, and then he slumped down on top of her as the candles went out. The floor beneath them vibrated while he lay atop her, struggling to catch his breath.

Tony returned to himself on the newly installed floor, one arm around Kendis. The house was impossibly warm even though Sunland got cold at night. He stared at the ceiling, breathing hard.

He moved off Kendis and shifted until she lay on top of him because he didn’t want to squish her any more than he already had.

“Well,” he said.

Kendis, curled against his side, made a tired sound that might have been agreement.

The foyer smelled of candle wax, bergamot, metal, and—strangely enough—rain, even though it had been bright and sunny before they started.

Every line in the wooden floor glowed faintly, and gold moved through the chevron pattern beneath them, spreading outward like circuitry. It flowed beneath the walls, climbed the staircase, and disappeared into the upper halls. For one impossible moment, Tony could sense it all: the pipes, beams, wires, roots, stone, soil, and deep water underneath the land.

He sensed it not as diagrams but as a body. Strangely, it felt as though the house not only knew where he was but, more importantly, finally knew who he was.

Tony felt an awareness settle around him—ancient, sharp, deeply suspicious, but no longer distant. Concordia brushed against the edges of his mind with the emotional equivalent of examining a questionable package.

Then the floor warmed beneath his back, and he could have sworn he felt approval from Concordia. It was conditional approval, but Tony had built an empire on less.

The staircase creaked, and one of the bottom steps opened, revealing a concealed storage compartment that had not existed that morning. Inside it sat one of Tony’s missing socket wrenches.

He raised his head. “You stole that.”

The compartment closed with a pointed snap.

Tony dropped his head back to the floor. “Great. I’m psychically bonded to a kleptomaniac house.”

“Our house,” Kendis hummed.

“Our house,” Tony agreed as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. And for the first time in Tony’s life, he truly knew the meaning of home.