Chapter 31
Zayden
I’ve never taken care of anyone before. Not a sibling, a friend, not even a pet. But taking care of Luna is as easy as breathing, and healing even.
I want to make her breakfast, run her a bath, and listen to her when she talks. Memorize the way her eyes soften when she’s not in fighting mode.
We’re lying on the couch with her body tucked into mine like she was made to fit there. Her head rests against my chest like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like she didn’t almost give me a fucking heart attack thirty minutes ago.
God, she has no idea how close I was to losing my fucking mind.
One second, I was grabbing a water bottle, and the next, my lungs forgot how to work properly. Something screamed at me to go, as if my soul knew what my mind didn’t.
I don’t even remember entering the room, just the sound of water sloshing as I pulled her back up, shaking, terrified, my brain screaming, not you too. Not her.
My feelings have always been too big, too loud, and too fucking much. I learned how to lock them down a long time ago. To keep my distance and not let anyone in too deep.
But with Luna, it’s fucking impossible to do that. With her, it’s like everything multiplies, until it’s too much and still not enough.
And if she ever knew how she’s already sunk into the deepest parts of me, she’d probably run.
I would.
But I can’t turn it off. She’s always been there, since that ski trip my cousin Luc invited me to three years ago.
Our family isn’t close. They weren’t exactly thrilled when my mum married my dad. Or that she got pregnant so young and quit skating and gave up everything, including the Olympics, while my dad still got to play pro.
My mum had just died a year before, and I was so angry at everything, my dad, the world, and mostly at my mum for leaving. So when Luc invited me, I said yes. At least to get away from my dad for a while.
I snuck out to the frozen lake behind the villa to skate one night, because that’s the only place where I felt like I could breathe.
That’s when I saw her, alone on the frozen lake, skating like it belonged to her.
She didn’t say anything when I started skating beside her.
Never asked why I was there. And without thinking, we started skating together.
Every single night, I waited for her like I needed her. And every single time, she showed up.
She wasn’t afraid to skate on a frozen lake in the dark with a stranger. But the truth is—we never felt like strangers. She felt like peace, and I didn’t know what to do with that.
After the trip, I never saw her again. Until that morning, when she looked at me through the glass and I felt it. And when I saw her skating, I knew there was something familiar about her.
She probably doesn’t remember me, but I never forgot her. She was always in the back of my mind.
I’m still caught up in the moment, on those cold nights that felt anything but cold, on her, when she shifts against me.
She murmurs something I don’t catch and moves on top of me. Her legs slide over my thighs, cheek pressed against my chest as small and contented sighs escape her lips. Then her whole body freezes like she just realized where she is. She jumps off my chest like I burned her and stands.
“Shit, sorry,” she blurts, eyes wide. “I didn’t mean to… I must’ve… God, what the hell is wrong with me?”
I sit up, propping an arm behind my head as I watch her unravel in front of me like a storm. Her braids are slipping loose from the bun she put them in, a few strands falling across her cheek.
She keeps pushing them back, and they keep falling forward, and I can’t stop staring. The oversize T-shirt I gave her hangs off one shoulder, barely reaching her thighs. Honestly, it’s driving me insane how fucking beautiful she is.
She finally pauses mid-rant and looks at me. “What?” she demands.
I don’t say anything, because if I open my mouth right now, I might tell her too much.
She crosses her arms and meets my eyes, like she can hear every thought in my head. “Okay, yes, I know I fell asleep on your chest last night, but that was different.” She glares at me like it’s my fault.
I still don’t know how she reads my fucking mind without me saying a single word. This isn’t the first time.
“I had a migraine.” She’s pacing again. “Plus, I was still high on orgasm.” Then she groans, dragging a hand down her face. “And this morning, I had a tiny meltdown, which obviously doesn’t count either.”
I lift an eyebrow.
“You’re enjoying this.” She pouts. “Say something!”
Instead of saying something, I tug her toward me and pull her back onto my chest where she belongs. She lets out the tiniest moan, like relief melted right through her bones.
“I hate you,” she whispers, wrapping her arms around my neck.
“I know.”
My lips find hers like a magnet, moving slowly against her mouth, saying all the things I know I shouldn’t feel and still don’t know how to say. She kisses me back like she already knows.
She’s catching her breath when she pulls back, just enough to look at me. There’s something different in her eyes now—less fire, more fear.
“Zay… Is it supposed to feel like this?”
Zay? I tense before I can stop it. My heart forgets how to beat.
“Like what?” Even though I already know.
She lets out a breathy laugh, the nervous kind, like she wants to take the question back before I can answer it.
“I don’t know,” she mutters quickly. “Like it’s fast, really fast. But…
not at the same time.” Her voice drops. “God, that sounds so stupid.” She groans and buries her face in my chest. “What the hell is wrong with me?”
She tries to retreat—not physically, but into her mind. She’s backpedaling, scrambling to cover up how real that just was.
But I get it. More than she knows.
I tighten my arms around her and press my lips to the top of her head. “There’s nothing wrong with you,” I murmur. “Some things aren’t supposed to make sense. They just…are.” She’s been the this I couldn’t explain for years.
“We’re so fucked,” she mumbles into my chest.
Actual, real laughter bubbles out of me before I can stop it.
Because she’s right.
I’ve known this since the moment I saw her skating alone on that frozen lake.
She props her chin on her hands. “So what’s next on the migraine retreat itinerary, Dr. Aldenhurst?”
“Lunch.” I brush her stubborn braid away from her face. “Then a game, maybe yoga. How’s your head?”
Her expression softens. “Better than I’ve felt in years.”
“Yeah?” I study her face and the way her eyes flutter shut for a second. “No headaches?”
She shakes her head. “No pain, no noise, and no pressure. Just…” Her voice softens, like she’s talking to herself. “Quiet. I’ve never felt this free.”
My heart beats a little faster at her words.
“Well, I guess your retreat is working.” She chuckles.
“Yeah?” I laugh, something I’ve been doing more in the past few hours with her than I’ve done in years.
She nods, chin still propped on her hands. “Five stars, although there’s room for improvement.”
“Is that right?”
She bites her lip, eyes full of mischief. “No fluffy robe, no massage, no playlist.”
“Noted.” I play along.
“Also, I wouldn’t mind another orgasm. Those are available upon request, right?” she says in that sweet, innocent voice, like she has no idea what she’s asking for.
But she knows.
I flip her before she can even blink. She lets out a gasp as her back hits the couch. My thighs slide between her legs as they fall open for me instinctively.
Her hips leave the couch, grinding against the hard length of my dick, and I can feel the heat of her wet and bare pussy through the thin fabric of my sweats. She didn’t put on any panties after her bath.
A low groan rips from my throat as I brace myself over her, every nerve in my body screaming to sink into her tight, sweet pussy.
“Is this what you want, Lunetta?”
She nods quickly, eyes wide, mouth parted.
My greedy baby.
“Say it.” One hand braces by her head, the other dragging slowly up her thigh, stopping just shy of the spot she wants me most.
“Zayden…”
I press my hips down just enough for her to feel how hard I am. She lets out a desperate moan, grinding to chase more friction.
“Fuck,” I breathe, struggling to hold myself back. “You’re so fucking wet for me.”
“Please,” she whispers.
“Please what, pretty girl?” I lower my mouth to her throat and let my lips brush against her skin.
Her brows pull together like she hates that she’s actually going to say it. “Please make me come,” she says in a soft moan, a plea.
I let the words settle. Then lean in close to her ear. “God, you sound so fucking pretty when you beg.” Then I pull back, adjusting my pants as I stand. But I don’t miss the wet stain in front of my sweats, and I’m not sure if it’s hers, mine, or both.
Her eyes snap open. “Zayden, what the fuck!?”
“Lunch first. You’re gonna need the energy.” My heart’s still pounding. My cock’s still hard. My whole body wants to go back to her and bury myself so deep inside her she forgets her own name.
“You said orgasms were available upon request,” she yells at me, still flushed.
“Processing times vary, sweetheart.” I glance back at her over my shoulder.
“You’re an asshole.” She throws a pillow at me, and I catch it. “Say goodbye to your five stars. You’re down to three.”
I smirk. “I guess I’ll have to earn them back.”
“You better.” She narrows her eyes at me.
“Oh, I will.” I flash a grin. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll give me six.”
Her mouth opens, then closes. Her whole body stills, except for the way her thighs clench together. “I hate you!”
No you don’t, baby.
I turn toward the kitchen like I’m still in control, which is very far from true.
Grabbing a pot from the cabinet, I get started on lunch.
I’m thinking of chicken soup, with fresh veggies and clean-cut meat.
I had the cabin stocked yesterday morning with everything I need and everything Google said was good for migraines.
I was relieved when she asked me to get her out of the Vault’s party last night and she didn’t fight me when I brought her here.
The truth is I was gonna bring her here no matter what. I’m not above a little kidnapping, not if it means making sure she’s okay. I reach for the veggies, rinse them under the tap water, and set them on the cutting board.
“Oh God, Zayden.” A soft moan comes from the couch.
I stop breathing.
Then I turn around.
What in the actual fuck?
She’s still on the couch, legs wide open and one hand between her thighs. She stares at me, eyes half-lidded and mouth open. Her finger is moving around her clit like she doesn’t need me at all.
“Zayden,” she moans again, back arching from the couch.
Fuck.
“Luna?” I take a step forward, dick already hard as fuck, ready to drop to my knees and take care of her.
“Don’t,” she commands. “You walked away, remember?”
Fucking hell!
I want to argue with her, crawl and beg her to let me do it. But watching her take care of herself like this is fucking hot.
She moves faster now, and her moans get louder. My cock throbs so hard it hurts. My hand slides beneath the waistband of my sweats. I just need something to relieve myself before I explode.
Her gaze sharpens instantly. “Don’t you fucking dare touch yourself.”
I freeze again and obey her.
She’s grinding faster now, chasing her release.
“That’s it, baby. Show me how you take care of that greedy pussy.”
She gasps as another moan escapes her lips.
“Keep going, pretty girl. You look so fucking beautiful like this.”
She moans again, a little louder.
She likes this.
My knees damn near give out as she slides one finger inside herself. She’s so fucking wet, I can hear the sounds her pussy makes as she fucks herself.
“Please…” I hear myself say. I’m not even sure what I’m pleading for, her to let me take care of her or her to let me relieve myself.
She shakes her head before adding another finger. The sounds make me grit my teeth, nails digging into my palms.
“Oh God, Zayden… I’m gonna come,” she whimpers, head tipping back and legs trembling.
“Come for me, let me see you fall apart.”
Her fingers move faster, and it’s the most beautiful, torturous thing I’ve ever seen. A moan rips from her throat, back leaving the couch as she chases her release.
“Zayden…” Her eyes roll back as she falls over the edge.
My cock jerks in my sweats, and it happens before I can stop it. The waves rip through me, every muscle in my body tightening as I come in my pants like a fucking teenager.
“Fuck… Luna,” the sound tears out of my chest. I stumble backward and lean against the kitchen counter for support. The front of my sweats is soaked with my own release. I didn’t even know this was possible. She didn’t touch me, and I didn’t touch myself.
Zayden 0, Luna 2.
Two ruined sweatpants in one day.
I watch as she pulls herself off the couch and walks toward me. She tilts her head to look up at me before lifting her fingers in front of me, glistening with her juices. “Think you can clean these for me, baby?”
I blink and nod.
“Open up.” She brings them to my closed lips. I open my mouth, and she slides her fingers in. The taste of her hits my tongue, still warm, sweet, and a little salty. A groan rips out of my throat. Fucking heaven.
She smiles at me and pulls them out with a pop, dragging them across my bottom lip.
“Good boy,” she says before turning and walking away.
The praise goes straight to my groin.
That’s it, Luna Del Sol fucking owns me, has ruined me for anyone else.