17. Swan Lake
“ D on’t… make… a sound.”
My heart skips as we sink deeper, right up to my nose, then takes off into a sprint.
What are we hiding from? What’s out there?
I’m terrified, but I listen, holding my breath and trying to ignore the spark of need unfurling low in my belly, heat drawn from Orion’s warm chest against my back. It’s the same confusing, intoxicating sensation I felt when he chased me through the woods.
His nearly naked body presses into mine, slippery against me, but every muscle is hard as stone, coiled to strike. Tension pulls taut between us, and I go languid in his strong, determined embrace, ready to move however he needs me to.
He turns us slowly. Confusion prickles my mind when his arm slips from my waist and breaks the water’s surface, pointing toward something white at the edge of the lake.
My cheek brushes his massive bicep as I squint.
It’s…
Oh my God. It’s a swan .
His hand tightens over my mouth, anticipating my gasp, stifling it. Then his scruff-roughened cheek rounds in a smile against my temple as his grip softens and his arm returns around my waist.
The swan is big, much larger than I imagined the bird would be. I slump against Orion’s chest, watching in awe as the bird preens its pristine white feathers and glides along the water.
Orion raises us so my chin skims the water’s surface. His lips brush my ear, and I will myself not to shiver.
“I’ve never seen them this close,” he whispers warmly, his words light and gentle. “My cousins on the coast say they come around this time of year. Maybe they are stopping here to rest.”
They?
On cue, another smaller swan drifts out from the shadowed trees hanging over the water. Excitement has me clutching Orion’s forearm, my nails pricking his tattooed skin. I glance up to make sure he’s watching, and his eyes crinkle at me as he nods in answer, mouthing, his mate .
I do a little happy shimmy in his arms. His chest rumbles with laughter against my back and he tightens his grip as he sits me on his bent knee.
Entranced with the scene, I settle against him like he’s a chair.
His arm rests in my lap, thumb stroking circles on my hip, while his other hand still covers my mouth, like he knows I’m still on the verge of squealing.
The swans float farther away, rippling the surface back and forth like a silent conversation. One dips its neck, preening the other’s feathers. I don’t know why, but for some reason, my chest tightens.
“They mate for life.” His words take root in my chest. “Once they’re paired, they fiercely raise their young together. And when the time comes, they’ll go back home. Together.”
We stay like that, watching the pair meander through the mist like something out of a dream. Then the male flaps his wings, and his mate answers in kind before they vanish between mossy rocks.
Long after they’re gone, we sit in the quiet. The rush of the waterfall, the buzz of cicadas, and the rustle of leaves filter back in before Orion murmurs.
“You okay?”
His hand drops from my mouth to rest at my collarbone, while his other arm tightens around me, like he’s afraid I’ll run.
I should run. My confusion over how I reacted last night combined with the charge of the moment we just shared is too much to handle. My mind races to find its footing but dusts up a jumble of random memories instead.
His mother’s gentleness toward his father years ago. Orion’s nightmare from last night. The reverence in his voice when he talks about his family. It feels wrong to ask about any of it, too personal for how I’ve insisted on pushing him away. So I stick to what’s in front of us.
“What happens if a swan’s mate dies?”
I’m unsure how it relates, but deep in my chest, I’m desperate to know. When he stiffens behind me, I wonder if he understands why I’m asking better than I do.
His voice catches before he clears his throat and speaks more firmly. “For many, that’s it for them.”
My sternum cracks under the weight of his answer. He swallows thickly before continuing.
“He waited for his soulmate. Without her, there’s no one else.”
His fingers squeeze my neck while his other hand slides lower, hesitant, like he’s waiting for me to stop him. I’m achingly aware of the glossy ridges of his scars curving softly over my skin. The cool water flows around us, but his body flush against mine keeps me warm. Inside and out.
Earlier, I stripped down to tease and annoy him, to prove he didn’t scare me and that big bad Orion was all talk. But I’d also wanted to lighten the mood after dealing with all the emotions brought on by soothing my stalker into a restful sleep I couldn’t find for myself.
That lack of sleep is not good, and I could tell I was in trouble as soon as I woke up. I’m a live wire, energy vibrating under my skin, and I’ve had a hard time trying not to talk nonstop. He doesn’t seem to mind, at least. I think he might even like it.
But he doesn’t know the telltale signs. He doesn’t know that when the high feels too good, I have a bad habit of chasing it until I’m reined in, either by myself or by someone who loves me. Like now, I’m in control, and as long as we either get home soon or I get good sleep, I’ll stay that way.
Even if I do slip, though, I’ll still be Luna , just razor-sharp, braver, and quicker to act on impulses I normally wouldn’t. The easiest way to explain it is that I know what I want, and I want it right now .
Up until this point—thanks to him, apparently—I’ve never acted on my urges outside my bedroom, and even then, only with my battery-operated boyfriend. But Orion is here. Ready, willing, and just as needy as I am.
With this buzz humming through me, encouraging me to move, I can’t stop the inevitable even if I wanted to. And I do not want to stop.
Orion’s hand ghosts down my torso while his other stays firm around my throat.
My breaths grow heavy, and his heart races against my back, just as fast as mine.
Instead of flying away like I should, I sink further onto him, feeling his cock hardening beneath me.
Desire pools in my core, a want that’s gone unsated for too long.
God, it feels good to finally do something about it.
He applies more pressure on my throat, making it hard for my nervous swallow to travel down my neck.
“Do you like me holding you like this?” His voice is hushed, despite the trees being our only audience. “My hand around your neck?”
His thick cock pushes against my ass, his boxer briefs creating friction between us. A whimper slips out of me. He curses into my nape, and my whole body trembles.
“Yeah, you love it.” His words come out harsher through gritted teeth as he grips my hip and tugs down as he thrusts up, grinding against me. “You love knowing your life’s in my hands. It turns you on, doesn’t it, little bird?”
In answer, my hand boldly wraps around his on my neck, urging him to squeeze harder, restricting my breath.
“Fuck.” He breathes the word like a prayer. “I bet running from me had you soaked too. You wanted to be claimed that day.”
The truth taunts me, keeping me quiet so I don’t admit he’s right. As terrifying as it was to be hunted, more than anything, I wanted to be caught.
He takes my silence for the submission that it is, and his wicked chuckle rumbles down my back to my pulsing sex.
I need him. I need him. I need him.
He shifts, and his hand leaves my hip. Panicked at the loss of his warmth, I try to turn to beg him not to go. But his hand still around my throat clamps tighter, holding me in place as he continues to move behind me.
“Don’t look at me,” he orders, voice low, heavy, and… resigned? Then he murmurs, “Not yet.”
The words sting, but I get the distinct feeling the command is for my benefit, and one he hates to give. But I understand.
Somehow, he knows that looking at him will make this too real for me.
I already run from the mere threat of being vulnerable, something I definitely am in this moment, naked before him with his hand around my throat.
If I meet my kidnapper’s eyes, I’ll remember I’m the captive.
I’ll drown in shame if I face the man keeping me hostage and I don’t kick, scream, and fight like I know I should .
But like this, I’m only at the mercy of the man who makes me ache, the one who makes me feel safe in the wilderness. He feels… right. I don’t want to screw that up by facing reality.
So I close my eyes, keeping up the ruse. I hear the slap of wet clothes against rock, then his hand returns to my hip while the other caresses my throat with his thumb. His lips brush mine, light as a feather, and I hold my breath.
“Be reckless with me, little bird.”
I swallow hard beneath his grip. “Yes. Please .”
His lips finally claim mine, and his body crushes into my back, sloshing cool water against my nipples.
He’s slick everywhere now, completely bare.
I suck in a shocked breath that he greedily takes back, his hard, thick cock gliding along the curve of my ass.
I moan, arching my back, and his hand at my hip slides to hover above my center, tantalizingly close to my clit.
He grinds into me, and I nearly sob for him to push between my thighs to ease the pressure building there.
“Do you remember what I promised before you flew away from me?” His hand loosens at my throat, giving me air.
“You said you’d show me how… how—” My cheeks burn at the phrasing teasing the tip of my tongue.
“Show you how…?” he prompts, voice like velvet.
“How I… I crave to be fucked,” I whisper.
“Mmm,” his feral growl of approval vibrates through me. “That’s right, my good girl.”
The praise racks through me at the same moment his fingers ghost over my clit, and I jolt.
“Open for me, Luna.”