Chapter 42
A COLLISION OF SOULS
NIA
I stare at the muscular, toned, and stunning man leaning against the wooden beams that divide the windows. The asshole lifts his arms and rests his weight on them, showing off all the goddamn muscles dripping off him, knowing full well I’m admiring his physique.
I’m becoming obsessed with his tattoos, undeniably attracted to them, and I’m curious to see if I can give him one.
Usually, only females wear a mark but there’s nothing typical about our pairing.
He’s more powerful than most Alphas and I wear the mark of a High Lord, and I can’t help wondering if I can brand him in the same way he’s claimed me.
I snap my book shut, deciding against reading any more of this nonsense. Luke thought I might enjoy something more sedate, but the romance book with a hero who’s far too proud and a heroine who’s far too stubborn is grating.
Luke smirks and tenses his muscles, turning slowly and offering me a better view. He’s testing me, teasing me, and it’s time to meet his fire with my fury.
My fingers trail over my skin, tracing the curves of the mark as they fall from my collarbones onto the chest. They’re pretty and I’m increasingly attached to them, finding a strange comfort in their colors and patterns.
I smile as I shift my weight, flicking my hair before I pull it over my shoulder, exposing my back as I kneel on the bed.
The man hasn’t pressed or pushed in the days since he found me.
He and Cole eradicated any possible threat and left the rest of the pack to fend for themselves.
We pulled our pack out and Luke refused to leave my side the entire way home and he’s been nothing short of attentive.
I adore him for it, enjoying the way he fusses over me.
Luke paid particular care when he told me about my father.
About my real father. And how Bastan had lied to me for my entire life.
I assume he was too proud to admit I wasn't his, and then couldn't risk revealing the truth about my father.
Luke fretted and I sank into him, telling him he didn't need to worry quite as much, before revealing what Carrie said before I killed her.
In truth, I'm more relieved than anything else. Bastan was despicable, and knowing that his blood doesn't run through me is a relief. I'm sure that the things he's done will come back to haunt me, but for now all I want is to spend time with Luke.
He worships the ground I walk on and every breath I take, and I feel cherished. I feel loved. It’s everything I’ve needed and more, but it might become a little oppressive if I don’t get some breathing space soon.
My fingers reach over my back and I turn my head, pretending to look at them over my shoulder.
I glance up at Luke and his eyes are wild, pale blue pools of lust that burn bright enough to dazzle me.
I turn away to hide my smirk and hear him suck a stuttered breath in, grinning now I know I’ve got him exactly where I want him.
“You’re such a fucking tease.”
I hum and play with my hair, pretending to ignore him.
My core’s already warming and I want to connect with him. I want more too, and Lyall’s in complete agreement. She purrs as she prowls around, teasing Lawson through our bond before the pair of them disappear into the shadows.
“Luke?”
It’s the first time I’ve asked for him and he exhales, relief washing through his expression. Luke storms across the room and clambers onto the bed, charging toward me like a starved man who’s finally found food.
His hands pull my face toward him, holding me against him as his lips crash onto mine. He tastes of everything I want, of heaven and all its stars. He’s the darkness of the night and the silver of its moon. I moan into his mouth and the man has the nerve to smirk as his kiss deepens.
Luke draws back, his fingers still weaving through the almost silver strands of my hair.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Nia,” he breathes. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again. Even if I have to chain you to me. Never again, sweetheart.”
I reach for him and his arms wrap around me.
I’m clinging to him, but he’s gripping me just as tightly, terrified he’s going to lose me.
Luke’s put on a brave face but the truth is he’s frightened it could happen again.
He’ll never admit it but he’s more scared than me.
His breath shudders against my neck and I feel the tension in his body, like he’s holding himself together just for me.
The man’s holding himself together just for me, afraid that if he lets go, even for just one second, everything will come crashing down.
That I’ll slip through his fingers or be stolen away again.
His grip tightens, thinking I’m pulling away, and his body pulls me against it, engulfing me as if I’m something fragile.
I sigh and he stiffens.
“I’m yours, Luke,” I whisper to his heart. “Only yours.”
His breathing falters and I hear his soul tremble. He’s worried this safety is a fleeting thing, a transient moment between storms that isn’t ours to hold.
“Nia.”
Luke presses his forehead against mine, his hands gripping me like I’m the only solid thing keeping him from drowning.
He’s anchoring himself in me and I press into him, slowly adjusting myself in his arms and easing onto his lap.
I slide my hands over his arms, easing my palms across his skin and slowly slipping them onto his chest.
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Luke grits, his tone as strained as his thoughts. “I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait as long as you need if this is too much, Nia.”
“It’s not too much.” I kiss him slowly. Softly. “It’ll never be too much.”
“Thank fuck,” Luke rasps, his hands dropping to my ass and hauling me into a more comfortable position. “I need you, Nia. Fucking hell, I need you more than I’ve ever needed anything in my entire damn life.”
I moan as my hands slide over his shoulders and my eyes fall to the side of his neck. Luke tilts his head and a small patch of skin catches my attention, calling to me as if it’s asking me to bite it. More than that, it’s urging me to pierce and mark it, to claim Luke as mine.
The need to claim him is becoming an all-consuming obsession.
It’s almost all I think about and I wonder how Luke held back for so long, refusing to mark me when I was recovering even though he felt our connection.
Goddess, he even held back after we’d bonded.
And the insight is a revelation that offers me a path to forgive Lawson.
“Did you want to try, Nia?” he asks.
I bite my lip and nod, smiling as our gaze meets.
The blue of his irises is alive with desire and devotion and I’ve never been more in love.
I never even saw him coming and now he’s here, I never want to be without him.
He’s the air I breathe and the primal rhythm whose beat I dance to, the quiet moments of home, and the cool mountain mists that cloud me with serenity.
“We’re fucking first, Nia,” he rasps, swallowing hard. “I need to fuck you. Please, Nia. Fuck me, first.”
My nails dig into him and my arousal soars.
Goddess, I want him.
So fucking badly it hurts.
My fingers scrape up his neck and pull his mouth against my lips, demanding his kiss meets the frantic need of mine.
Our tongues play as I move on his lap, my hips tilting as they rise and fall in time with his.
We’re moving with and against each other, increasingly desperate for release and the ache between my legs becomes unbearable.
Luke bucks into me and his cock brushes against my clit. It’s a moment of pleasure in a whirlwind of anticipation, and I need more. More relief, more ecstasy, more agony. I’m increasingly needy and my clit throbs, begging me to give in and hurry the fuck up.
His cock catches me again and I grind into it, dropping my weight into his lap as I move against him. My hands sink down his bare chest, feeling every single muscle I admired earlier, following their contours down to his jeans.
I pull at the button flies, turned on by the thought of his cock springing free. Maybe it’s because he walks around in little more than jeans, or maybe it’s the tease of unbuttoning the metal fasteners, but undoing them makes me irrationally aroused.
“Anytime you want, pretty girl,” Luke says, his hands pulling at my hair. “If my cock is your kink, then that’s just fine with me.”
The confident, almost arrogant smirk that lights his face has me dripping for him.
I’m blushing slightly and Luke loves it, delighted that the glow over my face matches the warmth in my chest. His laugh is low and deep and he pulls my hair back, gently, and claims my mouth as I work to release his cock.
My arousal soars as his hands explore my curves, lifting the silk nightgown over my head before his mouth drops onto my neck. He sucks and bites the skin where he marked me and pleasure rips through me, its heat melting away any defenses left against him.
Luke is inevitable. He’s my beginning and end, the joy and agony of life that exists between the two.
He’s the satisfaction and its relief, the frustration and its aggravation.
I adore him for all his darkness, for all his harsh and jagged edges that grind against me.
He’s never soft, except he is, for me, and me alone.
And the man I love more than I thought possible looks down at me with the same adoration in his eyes. The same unshakable devotion that means we’ll break all the rules—all our rules—for each other.
He helps me slide his trousers off and we laugh as our position is too damn awkward and our movements far from smooth. It’s a different kind of intimacy and Luke’s laugh deepens as his hands tease me, grabbing at me as I throw my head back and revel in this moment.
We’ve found our balance, in a different position from usual but one just as right.
Luke’s flexed for me.