Chapter Thirty #2
I’d been fighting it for so long, I’d forgotten there was another side to this war. I remembered what Maggie had said about my walls and how I locked myself inside them. But I didn’t want to be locked inside anymore, not alone anyway. I wanted my walls to crumble, I wanted my guard to fall.
I wanted to let Laken in, give him a key to the door, and never take it away. The answer came easy, it always had been. I was the one too stubborn to see it, purposely looking in the opposite direction because I’d been too scared to acknowledge the truth.
Suddenly, the world came back. Not subtly, but with force.
His hands dropped and his chest leaned over toward me as I stood too close. He pressed a finger into my chest. “You,” he whispered. “You are the little storm hanging over my head no matter where I go, and somehow I became addicted to your rain.”
Slowly, with intent to inflict a little pain, I dragged my eyes from his finger on my chest to his lips hovering so closely to mine. “Then drown in it.”
And he would.
Laken brought his lips to mine with enough passion to knock me off my feet—literally—but with an arm already around my ass and dipping lower, he caught me before I even began to fall. It might’ve been our last night together.
So when Laken pressed my body against the wall and panted with a ravenous gaze haunting his eyes—I let him eat. Feeling his lips, his skin on mine after being starved for so long was frenetic. Finding it nearly unbearable, I shivered at his pressure against me.
Laken pinned my hands above my head and kissed the sensitive skin between my throat and my shoulder, using his other hand to hold my waist. Struggling to breathe, I caved in to his touch, grinding my hips against whatever part of him I could touch, but it wasn’t enough.
And he knew it, pulling his lips from my body long enough for the cold to slip in again. Torturous. Traitorous.
There was no gentleness, no slow pace, no taking it easy. It was passionate and it was burning.
“You sure you’re so mad?” he teased.
“I hate you.” The words tasted bitter on my tongue as I said them, sour with something stronger than hate.
Laken smiled against my skin and brought it back to life. “Say it again.” He stood back, leaning in to hover just far enough from my lips I couldn’t taste his. “Say it again.”
My chest heaved. He liked this. I said it again. “I hate you.”
If I could’ve captured the wicked smirk that curled Laken’s lips—I would’ve. His eyes, famished and sinful, didn’t blink as he whispered into my mouth, “You wish you hated me.”
Leaning forward, I kissed him and bit his lip as I left. “Fuck you, Laken.” His hand spun my hips, and I faced the wall before I knew it. I did say “fuck you,” so either interpretation worked for me.
One hand of his ripped the back of my dress off, trembling as if he’d been holding back.
The other wrapped around my waist, traveling farther down my center as his lips on my back did the same.
My legs held my weight until his fingers snaked under my skirt and slipped in and Gods, they knew exactly where to go.
I clenched my fist against the wall, my nails digging into my skin.
Fireworks ignited in my bones; my body trembled.
Looking down, I watched his hands and where they touched me.
His veins, his bones, where we merged and I melted into something unrecognizable.
“Fuck, Laken,” I complained. Complained. “Get the fucking dress off already!”
For a moment, he did not listen. He went further, his grip on me being the only thing keeping me steady. Finally, his fingers dragged down my legs and my bare skin lit up with goose bumps in his absence. “As you wish, milady.”
And the dress came off. Entirely naked, real and raw. I faced Laken, free of my filthy clothes. He studied every curve, every dip, every stretch mark until his eyes met mine in a ruinous death stare. But I grew impatient.
“Either fuck me now or don’t fuck me at all.”
He didn’t hesitate, waver, or falter. Laken lifted and carried me to the bed, laughing sheepishly with an airy whisper, “There she is.”
I could’ve rolled my eyes, I could’ve argued, but my desperation felt too heavy as he laid me down.
Stepping back, he undid his belt and unbuttoned his shirt.
His vest came off first, followed by his tunic slipping over the mess of his hair.
And I watched every second, soaking it up and reveling in each exposed muscle.
His fingers unlaced his black pants and suddenly, everything dropped to the floor. Nothing remained on his body.
Laken leaned over me, a knee on each side. The relief I felt from being under him again was enough to turn me into liquid. I’d been here so many times before I could trace his body with my eyes closed and knew where each freckle was.
And I’d learn the new bits, too. My hand glided over the scar on his ribs and he exhaled as if he’d been holding a breath, gazing at me from under his lashes. His heartbeat pounded against my palm. But this was mine now as well. The good, the bad, and the better-left-unspoken.
I cupped his face, bringing his mouth to mine. Harsh and hungry—passionate and strong. This man fucked me with purpose.
His mouth was on my neck. My fingers burrowed into his back.
His hands in my hair. I shoved him over, moving on top.
Lowering myself down his body, I took his length in my hands and in my mouth.
Gods, I loved seeing him—feeling him come undone.
I wanted to see just how much he missed me, how much he could take.
Under me, his body tightened and strained, barely able to withhold. “Fuck, Reece.”
My name on his lips—so vulgar.
I stayed for a moment before going back up, where he met me halfway. Straddling his legs, he sat up and we locked eyes. My mind felt like a blazing fire of bursting stars; I saw spots.
“Tell me you want this,” he whispered, rolling my hips over his length. “Tell me this is real.”
I brushed a hand through his hair and let my thumb run over his cheeks. Do I need to spell it out? “I want this, I want you.” I smiled, gasping into his mouth. “This is real, Laken Augustus.”
This was as real as it gets.
With his mouth back on mine, Laken pulled me onto him.
He slipped himself between my legs, rubbing my sensitive bundle of nerves, forcing a deep breath from my lungs as I deepened his reach.
His heartbeat pulsed through my body. There wasn’t any more talking after that, not as we moved against each other in a starved rhythm, craving one another.
The world went fuzzy; nothing but his body on mine kept me tethered to our reality. This reality.
Oh my Gods, oh my Gods, oh my Gods—Laken fucking Augustus.
It was just him and me, as real as we’d ever been. There weren’t two pigs in our room. There wasn’t a fundraiser tomorrow. There wasn’t a worry in my head, walls surrounding me, or even air to breathe. I didn’t think I needed air to survive anyway—I needed him.
Laken gripped my back fiercely and I rocked over him. He cupped my breasts. I leaned my head back and his lips could move as I wanted them to, trailing down my neck and chest to my nipple. He sucked it, his tongue trailing over me as I pulled my head back up.
I wanted him—and he wanted me. By the way his mouth devoured mine, unraveling me. The grip on my thighs so hard it might bruise. The burning between my legs. My fingers in his hair, my legs around his waist. If the inn caught fire, we wouldn’t even know.
With my fingers entangled in his hair, I drew him in closer and pressed my body harder.
I needed him more—faster, harder. My legs trembled at the friction we created.
His tongue brushed mine, opening my mouth to go deeper.
His teeth on my skin. Between my hips, he rolled against me, each hardened inch rubbing each nerve of mine, forcing me to crave more and more.
Laken lifted me, easing me onto my back. Yes, yes, please, for the love of the Gods. Reaching between us, he pressed into me. Drawing a moan, neither sexy nor desirable, I kissed him again.
“Gods damn it, Reece,” Laken moaned, and my name on his tongue in such a sinful manner could’ve gotten me sent to hell for the way I enjoyed it.
Well, the way we both enjoyed it. Again, again, and again. I should start hating him more often.
Hours after we… made amends, bathed, and made more amends, darkness swallowed our swamped little room and felt too tight around my skin.
Too quiet. Too cold. My leg bounced under the blankets; my mind traveled places I didn’t want to go.
I’d stared at the stone so long I could’ve sworn it stared back.
I lay on my side. Flipped to the other side. To my stomach. To my back. And back to my side before surrendering.
“Laken,” I whispered, as I didn’t know if he’d fallen asleep yet.
A muffled “Mm-hmm?” told me he hadn’t.
Taking a deep breath and covering myself more with the blanket, I sank into the mattress and prepared for the answer I needed to ask for. “How long are you going to be gone?”
A short silence. His stare burned my bare back, seeping into my spine. “I don’t know,” he said. “As long as it takes to pay my debts.”
“A year? Two? Three months?” I faced the wall, unable to watch the unsteadiness of his chest.
“Something like that probably; I cannot say for sure.”
A quiet understanding settled between us; he knew what that meant for me and I knew what that meant for him.
I’d banished love from my life long ago, fearful and grieving. I never thought I’d be here again. I never thought I’d allow myself to be here again. Love was such a treacherous thing, like a maze full of traps and ways to go wrong. One misstep and you’d end up beheaded—yet we risked it anyway.
We risked it all to be looked at the way Laken Augustus looked at me.
“Reece…” he began, but I interrupted.
“Tomorrow,” I blurted. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
I knew the hard conversations had to happen and needed to unfold, but I wanted to enjoy the night with him before I ran out of them.
Reaching behind me, I felt for his arm and slid my fingers into his, pulling his limbs over me.
Cozying myself farther into him, I didn’t want to feel the air on my skin or the worry in my chest.
I wanted to feel Laken.
I wanted to feel at home.