Chapter 28 Caught Between Sunrise And Sin
Caught Between Sunrise And Sin
~HAZEL~
The golden tendrils of dawn weave through the mist-shrouded peaks, painting our secret vantage point in hues of molten amber and rose, as if the world below us is awakening just for this stolen moment between Luca and me.
We're perched on the weathered wooden fence at the cliff's edge, my shoulder brushing against his solid warmth, watching the sunrise crest over Oakridge Hollow like a promise fulfilled.
The fire pit behind us has dwindled to glowing embers, the acrid scent of charred roses lingering faintly on the crisp morning breeze—a reminder of what I've just released into the wind.
My heart feels lighter, unburdened, but there's a new flutter in my chest now, born from the way Luca's presence anchors me here, his gingerbread-and-dark-roast scent mingling with the earthy pine of the mountain trail we raced up on Storm's back.
The horse grazes contentedly nearby, her coat gleaming in the soft light, oblivious to the charged air between us.
I'm about to suggest we head back—before the bakery demands my attention or the ranch pulls him away—when curiosity bubbles up.
"Do a lot of people come up here?" I ask, my voice softer than intended, laced with the shy wonder of someone who's just screamed her demons into oblivion and emerged on the other side.
Luca turns his head, those storm-gray eyes meeting mine with that quiet intensity I've come to crave. He smirks faintly, the corner of his mouth quirking in a way that makes my pulse skip.
"No," he says, his voice low and gravelly, like he's sharing a secret. "It's a rare spot. Most don't know about it—or if they do, they don't bother with the climb. Too steep, too hidden. That's what makes it special."
I nod, feeling a shy flush creep up my neck, my curls tumbling loose around my face in the breeze.
The deep green dress I changed into clings to my curves, a deliberate choice after our earlier moment, a reclaiming of the body I've hidden for too long.
It feels right up here, exposed to the elements and his gaze, like I'm finally owning the space I take up.
But the thought of leaving this isolated haven tugs at me.
I glance at him sidelong, biting my lip.
"Do you have to do anything at the ranch yet? Or... could we stay a little longer?"
He pivots fully toward me then, his smirk deepening into something predatory yet playful, and before I can blink, his arms snake around my waist, pulling me flush against him.
His fingers trail down, gripping my ass with a slow, deliberate squeeze that sends heat pooling low in my belly.
The scent of him intensifies—warm gingerbread spiced with that underlying storm of Alpha possessiveness—as he leans in close, his breath ghosting my ear.
"What is my reborn Omega thinking, hmm?" he murmurs, his voice a teasing rumble that vibrates through me.
I pout my lips, trying to play coy even as my body betrays me, arching into his touch.
Slowly, I lick my bottom lip, tasting the salt of the morning air and the lingering tang of my earlier tears now dried.
"Would it be too much if we spent a bit more time here?
Just us... doing a bit of risky public things? "
He chuckles, the sound rich and low, sending shivers down my spine as he leans in closer, his nose brushing my temple. "Does that include having my Omega's bare ass out of those stockings? Wouldn't mind slapping it like in those novels you enjoy reading."
My face flames instantly, a stutter escaping before I can stop it.
"I-I haven't been reading anything frisky!
" It's a lie, and we both know it—those cozy omegaverse romances with their pumpkin-spiced covers and steamy small-town packs have been my guilty escape in the quiet hours after closing the bakery.
He smirks further, leaning in to tug gently at my earlobe with his teeth, the sensation making me gasp.
"Oh really? So that little innocent cover book with the pumpkins and Halloween cupcakes…the one about the Omega trying to find herself in that small town and meeting a pack that fucks her senseless…isn't your type of read?"
My whole face is crimson now, heat spreading from my cheeks to my chest as he kisses the side of my neck, his lips warm and insistent.
I gasp again, the sound involuntary, while his hand moves down to grip my ass more firmly, kneading the flesh in a way that has my slick gathering between my thighs.
His scent deepens, that gingerbread turning richer, almost caramelized with arousal, mixing with the fresh mountain pine and the faint smoke from our fire.
"I know what you like to read, Hazel," he growls, the words vibrating against my skin.
"Now the question is, is my Omega into all that frisky fuckery in those books?
Because I can provide any fantasy she has, and trust me, she won't be walking back to the bakery if I get to do what I've been yearning for for weeks. "
I'm so red I can see black spots dancing in my vision, my breath coming in short bursts, but he holds onto me steadily, one hand sliding up to cup my face.
"Breathe, sweetheart," he reminds me softly, his thumb stroking my cheek.
I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with the crisp air and his comforting scent, steadying myself before whispering, "You'd actually do what I want. .. like from the books?"
He grins against my lips, tugging at my bottom lip slowly with his teeth, our eyes locked in an intense stare that makes my core clench.
"Anything, Hazel. Whatever my Omega wants... she gets."
I swallow hard, my throat dry, but he sees right through me—the hesitation, the spark of desire I've been suppressing.
He's opening the door, inviting me to step through and ignite this madness I know won't stop once it starts. My nod is small but certain, and then the words tumble out, portraying the scene I last read in vivid, embarrassing detail.
"The Omega outside in the woods, no stockings or underwear, slick dripping... and the Alpha taking her up against the tree... and then when she cums, he puts her on the edge of the rail and fucks her... and doesn't hesitate to pick her up and fuck her.... Well... yeah... maybe that?"
He's giving me a full-blown smile now, wide and genuine, the kind that transforms his usually stoic face into something boyishly charming.
I whisper, "Gah, don't smile like that! This is so embarrassing, and you never smile like that. You look like Levi now."
He chuckles, the sound warm and affectionate, and reminds me, "I look like him before he kisses you long and hard." And then he does just that—his mouth crashing onto mine in a kiss that's all fire and need, his tongue sweeping in to claim me as his hands roam possessively.
The world narrows to this; Luca's lips devouring mine, his scent enveloping me like a cozy blanket spiced with dark promise, the mountain breeze whispering through the pines as if applauding our recklessness.
He breaks the kiss only to guide me toward the nearest tree, a sturdy oak with bark rough enough to promise friction. His mouth is back on mine feverishly, hands working at my stockings with urgent tugs.
Fabric rips under his impatience, and he mutters, "I'll buy you new ones, but I'm far too impatient to give a damn right now.
" He tosses the shredded pieces aside, sighing in relief at the scent of my slick filling the air—pumpkin cream deepening to smoked caramel and honeyed cinnamon, betraying my arousal.
He drops to his knees before me, his eyes dark with hunger as he watches me shake, the slight chill wind raising goosebumps on my exposed skin.
I blush furiously, asking, "What are you doing?"
"You have to pray over every meal, remember?" he says, his voice husky, teasing.
"Ugh, why do you sound like Rowan no—" But I don't finish because he dives right in, his tongue licking me up with generous strokes, fucking into my pussy like he's starved.
Pleasure explodes through me, my hands flying to his hair for balance as I arch against the tree.
The bark digs into my back through the thin fabric of my dress, a delicious contrast to the wet heat of his mouth. His scent surges—gingerbread turning molten, spiced with clove and dark coffee—as he devours me, sucking and lapping at my slick like it's the sweetest treat.
The first sound that leaves my mouth is so filthy and loud it startles a pair of crows from the nearest pine, but I can't help it—I'm drowning, whole-body shuddering as Luca's tongue works me with relentless hunger.
There's nothing gentle about the way he devours me, coaxing my knees apart and pressing in, the bracing chill of early morning air shocking every nerve ending to attention even as heat pools and throbs molten between my legs.
He doesn't look up, but I can feel the weight of his attention, the barely-restrained Alpha pride in the set of his jaw, the way his hands splay possessively on my thighs and dig in, holding me open and steady against the rough bark.
I can't decide what's more overwhelming: the obscene wet sounds echoing in the dawn, the way each flicker and press of his tongue makes my vision go white at the edges, or the absolute shamelessness of being fucked like this in the open air, with the whole world waking up around us.
A trembling, hysterical laugh bubbles up inside me at the realization—I'm the main character in one of those spicy novels, but it's real and Luca is so much more than the cardboard-cutout Alphas who only exist to look pretty and claim things.
The sunrise blazes behind my eyelids, gold and crimson and pink, and his scent—gingerbread, rain, and coffee dark as sin—coats my tongue so thickly I can almost taste it between my teeth.
My fingers scrabble at the tree, nails catching on bark, then tangle in his messy dark hair, holding on for dear life as he laps at my slick, groaning like I'm the last pastry on earth and he's been starved for years.
He moans back, the vibration setting off aftershocks up my spine.