18. Im so sorry, Im sorry, I’m sorry.
Chapter eighteen
I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, I’m sorry...
Luka
A moment later, Nick emerged from the bathroom, a ghost backlit by the dim hall light. Each step he took on the worn carpet was a study in hesitation. He clutched the front of the pajama shirt closed, a familiar shield, his knuckles white against the soft flannel.
Luka consciously took a step back, giving the hunter space to breathe.
He anchored himself, a statue of patience.
When Nick’s gaze lifted, shadowed and uncertain, Luka brought two fingers to his own eyes, then pointed to Nick’s torso, a silent promise.
I will look. He held up a single finger, then mimicked the slow, precise motion of fastening a button. Just once. To help.
The air thickened with Nick’s scent—courage and rain-soaked earth and a raw vulnerability that made Luka’s beast still. Itwasn’twith hunger, but with something akin to reverence. Want him , it rumbled, a low thrum against his ribs.
A small, jerky nod from Nick. He took one step, then another, his bare feet silent. His lower lip trembled, a flicker of fear he couldn’t hide before his hand fell away from his chest.
The shirt fell open.
And Luka’s world, a vastness of patience and calm, narrowed to the landscape of Nick’s skin.
A silent, choking fury rose in his throat, a red tide of rage.
Itwasa map of desecration. Kitten , carved in elegant, mocking script down his sternum.
A constellation of puncture scars and tiny, branded hearts across his stomach.
Darling , a silver scar above his navel.
And across his right pectoral, the words GOOD BOY carved deep enough to be a permanent groove.
But itwasthe brand on his left collarbone that made Luka’s vision flash black at the edges. A perfect, filigreed G, burned into flesh. A signature.
We know that mark , his beast snarled, the sound a silent roar in his mind.
Rage became a physical thing, a furnace hissing to life in his chest. His fangs ached, pressing against the inside of his lips, every predatory instinct screaming for vengeance, for retribution against the monster whomarked Nick like cattle.
Stop . Luka slammed a cage down on the inferno. Not now. He needs us. He needs you present.
He dragged his gaze up, forcing the fury from his face, schooling his features into a mask of calm neutrality. He met Nick’s terrified eyes. Slowly, so slowly itwaspainful, he reached out. His hand shook, a traitorous tremor betraying the war inside him, as his fingertips found the bottom button.
It’s okay , he mouthed, the silent words as much for himself as for Nick.
He began his pilgrimage up the soft fabric. One button. His knuckles brushed against scarred, hot skin. Two. As his fingers closed around the button just below the hollow of Nick’s throat, a hand covered his.
Nick’s touchwashesitant, but the gripwasfirm, a definitive halt. A jolt of pure heat shot up Luka’s arm, a stark contrast to the coolness of Nick’s skin. The simple, deliberate contactwasan answer, a choice. His beast, soothed, began to purr.
“Thank you,”Nick whispered, the words a breath.
He gave Nick two enthusiastic thumbs up, his joy too big to contain. For a second, Nick just stared, his own expression frozen. Then, the corner of his mouth twitched. It grew, blooming into a genuine smile thatwaslike a supernova in the dim room, igniting his eyes from within.
A hard, singular thump echoed in Luka’s chest—his heart, a powerful, solitary beat breaking a lifetime of stillness. Something glacial and ancient inside him cracked, melting into a warm, rushing sea.
“I’m gonna try and rest,”Nick said, his beautiful, rare smile fading into weary lines.
Luka held up a finger— wait —as an idea bloomed.
He moved to the space between the beds and, with a few quiet grunts, shoved them closer together.
He tossed the comforters and pillows into the gap on the floor, fashioning a thick, soft nest. He patted it, then pressed his palms together and laid his head against them. Sleep.
A tiny, rough chuckle escaped Nick.“Might be too soft.”
But he moved toward it, pausing only to scan the room with a hunter’s focus. His gaze landed on the window. He moved to his backpack, pulling out a roll of duct tape.
Luka watched, a quiet fascination settling over him.
Nick, with his awkward grace, tore off strips of tape with his teeth and his remaining hand, his stump steadying the roll.
Hewasn’tjust securing the room; hewassealing the gaps where the dawn would creep in. Hewasprotecting Luka from the sun.
Only then did Nick curl up in the nest, his body folding in on itself, a familiar defensive posture.
Luka sat on the edge of the arrangement, a sentinel leaving a deliberate, respectful space. He could feel the phantom weight of Nick against his chest from their previous encounter, a memory his beast longed to make real again. Stop , Luka chided himself. He needs space.
The air vibrated with unspoken tension. Then, a small shift. Nick moved an inch closer. Then another. His bodywasstill coiled, but hewasbridging the gap. Soon, their shoulderswerebarely a breath apart.
Luka could hear the rhythm of Nick’s heart accelerate. His scent blossomed—the floral notes intensifying, threading through the vanilla and concrete with something intoxicatingly sweet.
With infinite, careful deliberation, Nick leaned, his shoulder pressing against Luka’s. The contactwasa question, ready to be rescinded. Luka absorbed the weight, shifting his arm to make a better cradle, his gaze fixed on the door. He would be the wall Nick could lean against.
Taste him , his beast urged, a sudden, sharp spike of need. Just his skin . He wouldn’t mind .
No , Luka replied, a silent, iron command. We discussed this.
Then hold him . Touch his hair . Kiss him .
Quiet.
To silence the clamor, Luka closed his eyes, retreating into the one sanctuary he always carried: music. The soaring, magnificent chorale from Holst’s Jupiter filled his mind. Without thinking, he began to whistle, the notes soft and pure in the darkness.
Nick’s body went rigid beside him. Luka stopped instantly, a spike of alarm piercing his calm.
“Could you…” Nick’s voice was a ragged whisper. “Could you continue? Please?”
Surprised, Luka resumed, pouring all his focus into the melody.
He kept his eyes closed, giving Nick the privacy of the dark.
A warm pressure spread across his chest. Nick’s hand, laid flat against his sternum.
The touchwasexploratory, his fingers trembling as they spread across the fabric of Luka’s shirt, as if trying to feel the music vibrating from his bones.
As Luka finished the final note, Nick’s fingertips drifted up, coming to rest on the scarred skin of his throat. The touchwasso unexpected, so impossibly intimate, the note faltered. Nick sat up, half-turning, his wide eyes glistening.
But hewassmiling. A genuine, radiant, transformative smile.
“That’s Jupiter,”Nick breathed, his voice a tangle of awe and hope.“I couldn’t remember it before…”
Luka stared, momentarily stunned. He nodded, patting his own chest before mouthing, My favorite .
His hands ached to cup that smiling face, to taste that joy. But he kept them at his sides, digging his fingers into the comforter.
Nickshifted, now half-straddling Luka’s thigh, their faces inches apart. He blinked, a single tear escaping to trace a path down his cheek. His scentwasa heady cloud of blooming florals and burgeoning desire.
Want . Need . Taste , the beast pulsed, a hungry throb.
Nick leaned in. His lips, soft and quivering, met Luka’s. Itwasa kiss of gossamer and gravity, hesitant yet intentional. Nick’s hand came to rest on Luka’s shoulder, steadying himself as he pressed closer. Luka remained still, a rock in Nick’s storm, letting him set the pace.
Nick’s tongue traced the seam of his lips. A question.
Luka parted them. An answer.
The taste of him flooded Luka’s senses—vanilla and city dust and the impossible, sweetening flavor of Nick’s own soul. A small sound, half-sigh, half-whimper, echoed from Nick into Luka’s mouth. He guided Luka’s hand from where it rested, placing it palm-flat against the flannel of his waist.
Touch only where he places you , Luka reminded himself, his beast whining for more.
Nick deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring, no longer hesitant.
He moved Luka’s hand again, sliding it up his side to rest over his heart, over the scarred word kitten .
Luka fought to keep his touch gentle, to not let the rage he felt at the cruelty written in Nick’s skin betray itself through his fingertips.
He focused on the frantic, stuttering beat of Nick’s heart beneath his palm.
Nick moved, straddling Luka’s thigh. His gasp as their hips made contactwassharp, and the scent of arousal bloomed between them. He guided Luka’s other hand to his hip, pressing down, a silent command for pressure, for an anchor. Luka obeyed, his grip firming as Nick’s whole body shivered.
Tentatively, Nick shifted, an experimental roll of his hips pressing his thigh firmly against Luka’s growing hardness.
The contact sent a jolt through Luka, electric and insistent, testing the edges of his restraint.
He bit the inside of his cheek hard, the sharp sting grounding him, keeping him from surging forward to take and devour as every instinct screamed.
Nick’s movements grew bolder, more confident with each subtle grind, his breath coming in hot, ragged pants that ghosted across Luka’s neck like a summer breeze.
He wasn’t guiding Luka’s hands anymore; instead, his fingers dug into Luka’s shoulder, gripping tightly as if holding on for dear life amid a storm of sensation.
Wait .
Luka pulled back just enough to see Nick’s eyes. Hehadto know. Hehadto see the man, not the victim. He caught Nick’s gaze and held it.
Wide, startled, but clear. Present. There he is . A slow nod of understanding. A small, shy smile from Nick, like a sunrise after a storm.
Nick reached for Luka’s hand again, sliding it from his chest down to the small of his back, pressing them closer until their bodies were flush, every curve and contour aligning in heated harmony.
The friction was immediate and intoxicating, sparks racing down Luka’s spine like fireflies in the dark, igniting nerves he hadn’t realized were so alive.
Nick’s movements turned urgent, his hand tangling in Luka’s hair, fingers weaving through the strands with a desperate tenderness.
He pulled Luka into a messy, fervent kiss, their lips crashing together in a dance of need and affection, tongues brushing in soft exploration.
Soft, broken moans escaped Nick’s lips, vibrating against Luka’s mouth, each one a siren’s call that drove Luka’s inner beast wild with yearning. Yet he held it back, savoring every tremor of Nick’s body, every hitch in his breath, drinking them in like the sweetest nectar.
Nick buried his face in the crook of Luka’s throat, his scent an intoxicating war of lingering shame and blooming pleasure, mingled with the faint musk of arousal.
“Please, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he gasped, his hips still moving in desperate, seeking undulations, chasing release even as apologies tumbled out like confessions.
Luka shook his head fiercely, wishing for a voice to soothe him. He pressed his hand more firmly to Nick’s back, guiding him. Nick’s hand suddenly grabbed Luka’s from his hip, dragging it around, pressing Luka’s palm hard against his own ass. It was a wordless plea for friction, for help.
Luka understood. He used his grip to guide, to angle and to help him find what he needed.
The changehadNick gasping, his whole body shuddering. His hand returned to Luka’s shoulder, his nails digging in harder, but Luka welcomed the pain, anchored by it.
“I’m sorry—I don’t—I-I-I—” Nick’s words fractured into a broken, breathless sound, his voice a melody of ecstasy and lingering vulnerability.
His body went rigid, every muscle tensing before release crashed over him.
He pressed his face harder into Luka’s neck, shaking uncontrollably as he came apart in Luka’s arms, his climax a profound unraveling, warm and trusting.
The implicit, absolute trust in that surrenderwasthe key that unlocked Luka’s own control. Nick’s climax triggered his own, a wave of pleasure so forceful and profound itwasalmost painful. He bit his lip until he tasted blood, stifling the sounds that wanted to tear from his broken throat.
They stayed like that, tangled and breathing hard. Nick’s weight sagged, melting into him, soft and pliant. Hewasn’tpulling away.
His beast purred. Ours , it whispered. To protect . To cherish.
Nick shifted, lips brushing against Luka’s throat in what might have been an accident or deliberate kiss. Either way, it sent shivers through Luka’s oversensitive body. “Thank you,”he whispered, the words a fragile gift.
Luka pressed his lips to the crown of Nick’s head in silent acknowledgment. Later, they would move. Later, there would be words, and clean clothes, and the world. But for now, this moment of connection, of trust given and received—thiswasenough.
More than enough. It was everything.