Chapter 25 #2
“I’m okay.” I waved her forward. Finally, she decided to stride toward the door. She knocked loudly, her thuds vibrating the frame of the door.
“Mr. Wilder,” she called. “Can you please turn the music down?” She kept knocking.
I straightened, finally getting my breathing in line, and gathered myself. Zhao looked at me over her shoulder at hearing my approach. “I’m worried he could have done something to himself. He hasn’t answered since yesterday.”
“Why haven’t you gone in?”
“His temper.” That was all she had to say, and I got it. I saw how quick Lucian was to bite first instead of asking questions.
“Do you have the key?”
She rifled through her pocket and pulled out a silver metal card.
I took it, and the door beeped as soon as I pressed it to the scanner.
With a click, the door opened and the scent of alcohol wafted out, slapping me across the face.
That wasn’t the worst part; it was the excruciatingly loud music coming from the speakers.
Like father, like son—they both liked classical music.
I entered slowly, hesitant to find him in a private moment, but I poked my head through the slim door.
He sat against a couch, head tipped back, eyes closed.
I strode over to the speaker beside the television in the main area, attached to the hall. I shut off the device, leaving the room in eerie silence. Bottles of various brands of alcohol littered the floor, empty. He was not discerning about what he drank.
“Mr. Wilder?” I murmured, as to not startle him. He lifted his head so fast, it scared me. He watched me with blood-shot eyes.
“Is that my son’s mate?” He squinted and blinked. Red marks covered his face.
“Yes, it’s Josephine.”
“Ah, Josephine, a lovely name.” He brought the bottle to his mouth and tipped it back. “The second loveliest name I’ve ever heard,” he slurred, low-toned, like he was talking to himself.
He was obliterated.
“Oh, and what’s the first?” I mused.
He pounded his fist into his chest.
“My fated,” he croaked. “I miss her.”
His eyes opened to show bloodshot and glassy orbs. I crouched nearby, far enough away to be at a suitable distance. He rolled the back of his head against the cushion.
“Where is she?” I finally allowed myself to ask.
His dark hair, so much like Lucian’s, other than the shock of white at the temples, fell into his forehead.
I couldn’t help but study the male. To see how Lucian would age, how he wouldn’t lose the angled features, strong build, and other than a few wrinkles at the edges of his eyes and lining his mouth, he’d remain startlingly attractive.
“What are you doing?” Lucian’s voice whipped through the living room. I stiffened, but stayed still. It took him long enough; I expected him to come searching for me as soon as I left the lobby.
His dad squinted over at him.
“Son.” He smiled dopily. “The only good that came from taking your mother as my chosen.”
I frowned, and Lucian shook his head slightly to the question in my eyes.
If he saw Lucian as his only positive . .
. was Alex not his? Now that I paid attention to that, as attractive as they both were, Alex was much more fair.
But I thought it was just because Alex favored their mom while Lucian his father.
“I miss her ,” Henry slurred again, the mournful tone sending an ache through my chest.
“What are you doing wallowing then?” Lucian strode closer, his gait hindered by the cast. “Go find her.”
“I want to find her,” he sobbed. “I would trade anything. I would sell my soul to have her.”
He closed his eyes, and tears squeezed from them. I couldn’t help but feel bad, but the fact was, he’d made his bed and now he rotted in it. If it were me, and Lucian claimed a mate, I didn’t think I could ever be with him.
With a grunt, Henry sat up.
“She would never forgive me. I don’t know where she is.
If I did find her, she wouldn’t accept me,” he said like he was being strangled.
He closed his eyes. From my vantage point, I could see the dampness grow on his cheek.
I stood, hesitating and oscillating my weight from one foot to the other.
This was a conversation I shouldn’t be privy to.
“Don’t give her a choice,” Lucian asserted.
I scoffed, rolling my eyes. With that, he approached me, forcing me to back up.
“Now, wait a minute.”
He crouched and popped me over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold. My breath exploded from my lungs from the press of his shoulder into my stomach.
“Lucian!” My legs swung from side to side.
With my palm, I pressed into his back to push myself upright. Zhao flashed by and then the rest of the hall. The click of a button broke the silence, then the doors swung shut and the carpeted floor became the tile of the elevator.
“Damn it,” I grunted and gave in to my burning biceps until I dangled over his shoulder.
The elevator dinged, and he stepped out. The halls were replicas of each other: elaborate ivory baseboards, beautiful carvings, detailed, but there was one place he would take me—his office.
I settled into his brisk pace, trying to ignore the fire that lit in my gut at his comment to his father.
What an asshole!
I hated the nervous knots in my stomach. Zhao had answered my question about the special services Lucian received, and it wouldn’t leave my thoughts.
Finally, he took a quick turn into reception. I grabbed the edge of the wall, digging my nails into the divot where the intricate carvings stretched to the ceiling. My grip forced him to stop.
“You’re going to hurt yourself,” he snapped and backed up until my arms weren’t hyper-extended.
I took the opportunity to wiggle until he let me go.
He placed me on my feet with such care. The throbbing in my chest kept slicing, like an open, festering wound.
I yanked my fingers through my hair. Lucian studied me, his eyebrows furrowed.
He had no clue I knew, and that made me even angrier.
He must have thought he was seeing a ghost when I appeared in his hotel room, interrupting his planned fuck session.
One visit a month . . . Those wretched thoughts wouldn’t stop.
I gritted my teeth, unable to let it go until I told him what I thought about it.
“Are there that many shifter ‘service-providers’?” My question held no derision, remaining bland and to the point.
His lips thinned.
Humans couldn’t know about knots, so there was a service that only we had access to. I held no animosity toward the profession, but that he’d been with others burned. His eyes flicked to the side, and he rubbed the back of his neck as he twisted it to the side in a stretch.
“Or do you have the same five or seven come in rounds, switching between them?”
His eyes narrowed. It was like a sheen fell over his eyes, darkening the gold of his irises. A chill skittered down my spine, forcing my pulse to jump. He stilled to the point of seeming frozen. Pressure built in my chest.
I’m holding my breath . I let out a harsh puff of air.
It must have been that option. I gritted my teeth and lifted my upper lip at him, looking at him with pure derision.
“You disgust me,” I blurted, the words coming from the pure agony poisoning my veins. “Just leave me the fuck alone for a while.”
He jerked like I’d slapped him. I exhaled hard, backing up, which seemed to trigger him to life.
Lucian lunged, pinning me to the wall, and he sank his teeth into my neck, right over the claiming bite.
My body was wracked with a sudden, mind-numbing orgasm.
I whimpered, my fingers curling into his shirt.
There was no strength to even lift my legs; they dangled around his waist while his hips pushed between them.
Lucian pulled back and slid his tongue over the bite, and the slight sting was nothing to the utter deliciousness of the glide.
My toes curled. I couldn’t help my whimper.
His hips ground against my slick-covered sex, the fabric abrasive against me.
The familiar tingle of an orgasm started up again.
Lucian slid his fingers into the waistband, and he yanked, tearing them in two.
It was so sudden, I didn’t have time to catch my breath.
He opened his jeans, and he slammed his warm cock into me.
I screamed, my head falling back against the wall. Such utter bliss . . .
He didn’t stop, his possession insistent, ravenous, possessive. The slap of his thighs against mine ratcheted up my lust.
“Lucian,” I moaned. He growled, his pace quickening.
He pushed his hips flush against mine and ground his knot inside my channel.
Every nerve ending had woken under his possession.
The swell of his knot pushed against my clit, and another orgasm slapped into me, causing me to go limp, my arms sliding off him. I couldn’t keep my eyes open.
“I fucking ,” he snarled. “Love. You.”
The force of the orgasm tapered off. Lucian gripped my neck, his large hand engulfing my throat. He forced my chin up, his feverish eyes meeting mine.
“You’re the only one who ever mattered or will ever matter, Josephine,” he said it with a violent edge to his voice.
“Sure,” I mumbled, hiking my hips until we were flush against each other. I returned my hands to his shoulders, gripping them hard, as my eyes shut from the swell of emotions battering my insides.
“You don’t have to believe me, but it’s the truth.
It always will be.” He shuddered, pulling his hips back until his knot popped out, allowing a rush of liquid to dribble down my thighs.
I struggled to breathe under the intensity of his possession.
I did believe him, otherwise, I wouldn’t have been here with him, but my jealousy was a live, pained thing, and it deserved to be released when I wished it to.
It was part of healing, and if he truly loved me, he’d deal with my outbursts for as long as I needed.
“I will repeat it as many times as you need.”
He slammed into me with a wet thwap . I grunted, my mouth parting. The command Lucian took of my body made me crazed. I craved him with a desperation that made me angry. He slid his silky shaft inside me, the base rubbing against my clit.
“My Josephine,” he moaned, his thrusting turning desperate.
He was nowhere near done with me. I wasn’t sure I could survive his possession.