Chapter Eighteen
THE BATHROOM DOOR SLAMMED OPEN SO hard, it bounced off the wall.
Lucien stumbled out like he’d escaped a burning building—shirtless, soaked, and steam curling from his skin as if the heat inside him had turned into an inferno.
Wet bandages clung to his lean torso, revealing the black stitches where I’d stabbed him.
Water beaded along the sharp lines of his stomach, soaking into the waistband of his black trousers.
His chest heaved as he dragged in air like it wasn’t enough. Like it hurt.
The moment his gaze locked onto me, something snapped. He crossed the room in three powerful strides just as my phone rang again.
My fingers fumbled to turn off the volume, but I was too slow. He towered over me, snatched the vibrating device out of my grip, and tossed it over his shoulder. It smashed against the legs of the desk where he’d been operated on, thudding to the floor.
“No—” I scrambled off the bed, but he just planted the heel of his palm between my breasts and shoved me back down.
I sprawled backward, bouncing on my elbows. “Lucien. What are you—?” I gasped as he fell forward, smothering me with his scolding weight.
I scooted away, only for him to crawl after me, pinning me down with his hips. He sucked in a breath as he gave me every searing inch. Pressing his forehead to mine, his breath burned my lips as he panted.
For one suspended second, he just breathed me in.
He shuddered above me and didn’t seem to notice how vulnerable I was beneath him. How he’d overpowered me and caged me, his hips between my legs, his heart thundering and entire body taking me hostage.
Grinding his forehead on mine, he growled, “It has to work. It has to.”
“What has to work?”
His eyes flashed open as if only just realising it was me beneath him and not some medicine he’d come seeking. His nose nuzzled me softly and then...he kissed me.
His lips weren’t gentle or careful—they were raw and desperate as he collapsed completely over me and gave me everything.
I cried out as he once again set fire to my soul.
On the floor, my phone rang—shrill and snippy and full of impatience.
But Lucien didn’t stop.
His hands were suddenly everywhere—gripping my waist, stroking my sides, searching and memorising, claiming and caressing. He groaned as he cupped my breast. His thumb found my nipple, and he squeezed me hard enough to make me whimper.
He shuddered as he swallowed my weak protest, licking my tongue as I fought for air. My fists pummelled his shoulders—
With a guttural grunt, he rolled off me, dragging me with him until I lay on top of him. I turned dizzy as his hands skated up my spine and dove into my hair, yanking me down to kiss him again, hard and deep.
The phone rang for the fourth time.
Too loud. Too urgent.
I tried to speak into his kiss. “The guards...” His tongue hunted mine. “They’ll hear—” He smothered my words, thrusting up from beneath me and making every single thought disintegrate.
“You have to stop it,” he groaned, his tongue slick and far too hot.
“I’m burning up.” His breath caught as if he was moments away from losing all control.
Rearing up from beneath me, he punished me with yet another wicked kiss just as his hands slid from my hair and followed my curves, down and down until he palmed my bottom.
Grabbing two fistfuls of flesh, he drew me against him until I could feel just how hungry he was. How hard and aching and hot.
I gasped as my dress rode higher, his grip forcing me to rock over him, following an age-old rhythm of sex.
The world narrowed to heat and breath.
My core tingled, tightening and spindling with pleasure.
God, he was going to make me come—make me shatter while grinding against each other like two horny teenagers.
My phone rang again, full of reprimand.
“Lucien,” I moaned. “I need—”
“I know.” A low throaty sound rumbled in his chest as he rocked up, pressing himself harder against me. “Me too.”
“No, I mean my phone—”
“Make it stop.” His voice cracked as he pulled my hips down. “You have to make it stop.”
I didn’t think he was talking about the racket my phone was making.
God, if I wasn’t wearing underwear and he didn’t have his trousers on, he’d be inside me by now. He would’ve stolen the final thing that made me innocent and corrupted me entirely.
My phone didn’t give up, screeching with another call.
He sucked my bottom lip as if he was trying to drink my soul. His hips surged up, hitting that perfect, sensitive spot between my legs.
I forgot about the damn phone.
My body arched without permission as an orgasm went from barely there to barrelling through me. I cried out as waves upon waves of pure pleasure made me writhe over him.
“Oh God.”
He shattered my world. My worries scattered like petals. Every part of me exploded with frost and fire and—
A galaxy of cold tore open inside me, vast and endless and white. Heat vanished. Sound vanished. It felt like falling through the heart of a frozen star, power roaring through my veins with perfect, impossible vastness.
His whole body jerked as if he felt what I did. As if he tasted the same chill, the same endless ice. Steam blasted from his skin as if the cold bled straight through him.
He groaned my name, his voice rough, his grip tightening on my hips as he reached the same edge I had. His entire body went taut as a sharp breath punched from his lungs. He thrust up and came with a bed-shaking shudder.
Pain echoed behind my eyes as the waves of his orgasm faded.
For the longest moment, we didn’t move or breathe, both shocked at how this escalated, but then he sagged beneath me and sucked in a grateful breath.
His hands splayed over my lower back and I went boneless, burrowing my face in the crook of his neck, trying to tame my galloping heart.
His fingers trailed along the beads of my spine, heavenly gentle after being so rough. “Who are you?” he murmured, barely louder than a whisper. “How can you stop me from burning when nothing else can?”
Gritting my teeth, I went to push off him—to find the strength to continue with our escape but the pain grew stronger, stealing the glow of my orgasm.
God, what I would give to feel healthy for once? To feel strong instead of fragile. “You’re still hurting?” I asked softly, my heart reacting to his issues instead of mine.
“Not anymore. Not when I’m touching you.”
My phone erupted with yet another shriek, warning that the person on the other end of it was at their limit.
I pushed upward, only for Lucien to wrap his strong arms around me and snap me back down again. “Did I say you could leave?”
My heart skipped a few beats as I waved at my dancing phone on the carpet. “I need to get that.”
I tried to scramble off, only for him to growl. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“But—”
“Whisper,” Lucien commanded quietly. “Bring it here.”
The panther appeared from the bathroom—no doubt relieving himself like I said he could—before padding toward the caterwauling device. He picked it up with his sharp teeth, brought it to us, and dropped it onto the bed like a dead mouse.
Lucien still didn’t let go of me. “I tried using that back in Cinderkeep when I went through your things. It didn’t work.”
“I know.” I pushed against his chest, avoiding the metal disc and his stitches the best I could. “There wasn’t reception there. But here there is.”
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say to me?”
I wrinkled my nose. “If you want an in-depth explanation of how the mobile network operates, I’m afraid you’re going to be sorely disappointed.”
“No.” He frowned. “About the fact that I just admitted I went through your belongings.” Letting me sit upright, but not letting me get off him, he kept his hands planted on my hips as I turned the volume off just in time for yet another call to illuminate the screen. “Don’t you care?”
The way he watched me made guilt flare.
Which was crazy because I had nothing to be guilty about.
Unlike him, I had a life out here.
People.
People who’d panicked when I’d vanished without a trace.
People who deserved an explanation.
“No, I don’t care,” I held his eyes, marvelling at the slight scarlet hue around his pupils. “It’s just stuff. I’m not attached.”
He studied me for a moment as if I perplexed him, but then shutters came down and he asked, “Can you make calls as well as receive them?” He sat upright, keeping me trapped on his lap with a possessive arm.
“Of course.”
“In that case, I need to use it.”
“Wait.” My eyes widened. “You do?”
Who the hell would he know to call?
How did he even know what a cellphone was after being locked up for so long?
But I didn’t get a chance to ask as his gaze locked onto the screen as yet another call buzzed.
The screen flashed obnoxiously with one name: Dillon, Dillon, Dillon.
Lucien growled under his breath, sounding eerily panther-like.
I lowered my head and groaned.
Crap. This was going to be bad. Very, very bad.
Not because Lucien seemed to have a minor problem of possession, but because he’d had me all to himself for weeks. He’d revealed enough of his prickly personality that if he knew I was close to another man...
Yep, he’s going to kill me.
My bodyguard was supposed to protect my life, not be the cause of ending it.
The screen illuminated Dillon’s name even brighter, announcing I’d missed over two hundred calls from him since I’d gone missing.
Lucien went very, very still and very, very hot.
His gorgeous face turned to blackened stone as he snarled very, very quietly. “And just who the fuck is Dillon?”