Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Lucian
Afterward, I brush her hair away from her face so I can kiss her temple. “You okay?”
She nods, but her eyes refuse to meet mine.
Something’s wrong. I can feel it in her stillness, in the silence that lingers too long between us.
“Erin.” I cup her cheek, forcing her to look at me. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Her lips part as if she wants to answer, but nothing comes out. She merely lets out a broken sigh and then gives me another soft, slow kiss, like she’s about to disappear again. “I’m going to get dressed.”
I miss her while she’s gone. Silly, she’s only in the bathroom putting on clothes. When she comes back to me dressed in comfortable clothes, I need to close the space between us.
“You hungry?” I ask, low and quiet.
“Now that you mention it—yes.” She smiles.
I cook for us. Something I think she’ll like. A simple salad with chicken. She helps me clean up. After I dry the last dish, I stand there, towel over my shoulder, arms across my chest, and stare.
“God, you’re beautiful. You know that?”
Shyly, she looks away.
And then—finally—she walks over to me, fists gripping the hem of her hoodie like she doesn’t know what to do with her hands. She looks up, her lips parted, eyes flicking to mine.
“I missed you.” Her hands go to my chest, her fingers clenching my shirt like she needs something to anchor her. Like she’s not sure she’ll survive without me by her side.
And I like that feeling a little too much.
My mouth crashes into hers, hard and needy, eager to make up for the lost time between us.
We make it to the bedroom.
She moves as if she’s floating, removing her clothes with slow, deliberate motions, like each layer she peels away might protect her from me.
It won’t.
She drops her shirt. Then her bra.
And when she takes off her panties, I almost lose my mind.
I remember the first time I saw her like this.
She was absolutely stunning, her curves wrapped in blue lace as she stood there, ready but nervous, trying to pretend she wasn’t about to give me everything.
Tonight, she isn't pretending.
She knows exactly what she’s doing.
I walk toward her, taking off my shirt and belt, keeping my eyes on her the whole time.
I hold her chin and tilt her face up to mine. “You’re mine, Erin.”
Her voice is nearly a whisper as she says again, “I missed you.”
I pull her to the bed.
The sex is raw.
Not slow. Not soft.
It’s desperate.
I press her down into the mattress as if I’m trying to fuse us together, like I can force the truth out of her with each thrust. But she won’t give me anything.
Not yet.
Still, her body knows mine.
She presses against me as if she never left. Gasps my name like a prayer. Claws at my back as if she wants to bury herself in my skin.
I hold her down and push deeper.
She cries out. Not in pain. In surrender.
But the tension stays.
Even as I drive into her again, her legs wrap around me, and her moans build as her body tightens around mine.
She’s here.
But she’s not.
I slow. “You’re hiding something from me,” I whisper, pressing my forehead to hers.
She whimpers. “No, I’m not. I’m right here.”
I hold my hip still. “No, you’re not.”
Her nails dig into my back as she pushes her hips against me. “Lucian—please—”
“Not until you tell me the truth.” I smooth my hand over her hair, gazing down at her.
She blinks fast. Her voice breaks. “I just need to feel you.”
And that...that destroys me. I want to give her what she wants. I want to know why she avoided me. And what’s so bad that she can’t tell me why?
This dance between us, like walking on glass, has to end before we break something we can’t fix.
I kiss her. Hard. Deep.
Then I flip her onto her stomach and pull her hips back.
She gasps. “Lucian—”
“You need to feel me?” I rasp. “You will.”
When I thrust back into her, she screams.
And I keep going.
Not to punish her.
But to remind her.
This is real. This is us.
Whatever she’s hiding, it stops now.
I won’t let her go without a fight.
Even if that fight happens between tangled sheets and tear-soaked moans.
I hold her hips, growling as I enter her. I collapse on the bed, and moments later, she’s curled against me, still trembling. I stroke her back, her damp skin warm beneath my palm.
I push the hair from her face to kiss her temple. “You okay?”
She nods. But her eyes won’t meet mine.
Something’s wrong. I feel it in her stillness. In the silence that stretches too long between us.
“Erin.” I cup her cheek, force her to look at me. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Her lips part like she wants to answer… but nothing comes—just a broken sigh and another kiss, soft and slow, like goodbye.
Then she finally says, “I’ll tell you. But right now, let’s have this moment.”
I make love to her again. Slower this time. Deep. Searching.
Later, after her body goes limp, I pull her into my chest and hold her like a lifeline.
She doesn’t pull away. She gives a soft sigh. And I don’t have the heart to ask her anything else.
I let her rest.
I run my fingers along the curve of her back. She falls asleep in my arms. I follow behind, darkness taking over.