Chapter 34
THIRTY-FOUR
Romance on the Fringes is dangerous—stick to sex.
CELINE
I wake to Luca’s scent. One of his arms is tossed carelessly over my waist. The weight, the warmth . . . I’m not used to it. Maybe that’s why my heart is racing. Liar.
Luca swears he loves me.
I can’t even deny it. My magic saw the truth, and even if it hadn’t, the expression on his face was proof enough. Ruthlessly honest. Stubbornly insistent. In that moment, it felt less like he was offering me his heart and more like he was tearing mine from my chest.
Nothing has scared me that badly in years. Not since I found my mom’s lifeless body sprawled across the tile floor of our summer home. That sharp tug in my gut, the pinpricks of electricity racing across my skin, urging me to run.
When she died, my grief and terror were followed by an emotion that shames me to this day: relief. Relief that I could finally leave. Relief that—for the first time in my miserable life—I could be free.
Free of the soul-crushing agony of trying and failing to protect her from the man she bound herself to and refused to leave behind.
The truth is, he’d been stealing her from me for years. I lost more of her every time he laid a hand on her. But that day, he stole her permanently.
So I ran. After pressing a kiss to her cold cheek, I made a vow to her and to myself that I wouldn’t let him hurt me again. She would be his last theft.
The only time I ever heard her stand up to him was when they argued about me.
He complained I was stealing her attention, slapping her across the face when she told him that was how it was supposed to be.
I remember watching in horror, frozen behind the curtains, as blood trickled from the corner of her mouth.
She stood strong in that moment, defiant in the face of his jealous cruelty.
“My daughter is the best of us,” she told him, lifting her chin. “She will do great things, with or without your support.”
He made her pay for every word. And while I cowered beneath the heavy linen drapes, I learned a lesson I’ve never forgotten: love is dangerous.
Now, I have someone else I can’t bear to lose.
Luca loves me. My mother did, too.
And look where that got her.
I slam the lid of the chest closed, trapping the memory inside and locking it up tight. I don’t want to relive my past—once was more than enough.
Luca’s arm shifts against my belly, his fingers rubbing gently up and down my arm. “Talk to me, baby,” he whispers. “I can’t take it back, and gods know I don’t want to, but I won’t say it again if you don’t want to hear it.”
His honesty is the sweetest pain.
I sigh, snuggling deeper into his chest. Here in my bedroom, surrounded by the four walls I meticulously painted the color my father hates most, I can almost convince myself things are different.
That I don’t have a murdered mom. A homicidal dad.
And assassins haunting my every step. But my magic is cruel, even now. It won’t let me forget the truth.
“I will be the death of you, Luca,” I say, sorrow bleeding into my words. “Loving me will be the last thing you do, then I’ll be forced to carry the weight until I can’t stand it any longer.”
“Hey, don’t think that way. You don’t know that’s how it will end.” Luca cradles my face in his hand. “We’re stronger together, and we both deserve a happy ending.”
“Happy endings aren’t real,” I tell him. “They’re sanitized propaganda for people who can’t stomach the truth. Most of the original human fairy tales were horrific. Cautionary tales, not bedtime stories.”
Luca smiles against my temple. “Okay, say you’re right and happy endings aren’t real.
If you believe that, why do you bother watching reality dating shows?
Why do you make Imani soak when she’d rather give up and dry out?
Face it, Celine, you may say you don’t believe in happily ever after, but you search for it every single day. ”
He’s right, and I know it. Isn’t that why I left the celestial realm behind—to discover a version of myself who’s happy? Overwhelmed, I press my mouth to Luca’s, threading into the kiss all the things I’m not brave enough to put into words.
Luca kisses me back, and it’s different this time. His lips are the same. The rough scratch of his stubble is exactly as I remember it, and the thrill remains. But now, I know how he feels about me. All the question marks floating between us are gone, banished by his honesty, for better or worse.
I don’t deserve him, but I’m too selfish to let him go. If I can’t give him the words he wants to hear, I’ll have to show him instead: by holding him tight, pressing my skin against his, and clinging like I’ll never let go.
I strip out of my clothes and toss his aside too. My movements are jerky, almost uncoordinated, and when I climb on top of him and sink until we’re joined, I don’t try to muffle my sigh of relief.
Luca moans softly, pressing his forehead to mine. “You feel amazing,” he whispers.
I nod. The stretch of him inside me, the sharing of pleasure, the knowledge that I can trust him not to drive a knife into my back when I turn around—this is better than amazing.
Hungry for more of him, I suck in a startled breath when he surges beneath me and flips us over. Gazing up at his face, I lift my chin, and his lips find mine again.
He starts to thrust, setting a slow, steady pace that drives me wild. His dick piercing grazes the spot inside me that makes my legs turn to jelly. I nibble on the hoop in his bottom lip in retaliation, tugging until he groans my name.
“I’m sorry I panicked,” I blurt, staring into his familiar hazel eyes, desperate for him to understand. Ever since I woke up to his pained expression as I pinned him to the wall, I’ve been hurting him. I never want to see that look on his face again.
“You don’t have to apologize,” Luca insists, feathering butterfly kisses along the side of my neck. “We’re all haunted by something.”
I plant my heels on the bed and roll my hips, creating a delicious friction I want to experience every day for the rest of my life. “You never talk about what haunts you,” I say, panting as a particularly perfect thrust makes my toes curl.
“You want to discuss it now?” Luca asks, a light sheen on his forehead.
Chuckling, I gasp, then lick the salty sweat off his neck. “After.”
Luca grunts and braces both hands on the headboard above me, his fingers curling around the top. He grins. The carefree expression makes my heart leap.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Making sure we don’t knock a hole in your wall. Or break the bed.”
“Why would—” My question melts into a surprised moan as he shoves into me with ten times the force, using his grip on the headboard to get better leverage.
“Your ankles,” he says. “Put them to good use.”
I curl my legs, walking my feet up his chest until they’re both planted on his collarbones. He winces, then kisses my right ankle. “That’s it, baby. Try not to be too loud . . . Or scream all you want. They’re your neighbors, not mine.”
I clench my pussy around his cock in punishment, enjoying the way his eyes flash yellow, his pupils narrowing to horizontal slits. “Do your worst,” I taunt, a shiver of anticipation adding an edge to my pleasure.
Luca smiles. The look is monstrous. It’s the last thought I have before he systematically tears me to pieces. Hard, deep thrusts; he shows me no mercy, and I refuse to ask for any.
My mouth drops open, and I breathe in the air desperately. It’s heavy with sex.
“I’m going to fill you so full of my cum, it’ll be dripping out of you later while you dance,” Luca growls, sounding nothing like the man I know and everything like the beast inside him. “Then those assholes at the club will know they have no chance.”
My pussy tightens automatically, as if it wants him to make good on that promise right now. “Yes,” I hiss, driving my hips up and meeting his thrusts halfway.
The jarring motion is brutal, and so is my orgasm. It crashes into me with the force of a sucker punch to the gut, reducing me to a whimpering, quivering, panting mess only capable of gasping Luca’s name.
He looks at me, and I’ll remember the expression on his face until the day I die.
“Please, Celine. Can I say it?”
At first, I don’t understand. Then it hits me, and the realization sends a smaller orgasm ricocheting through my body. “Yes,” I gasp. “Tell me. I want to hear it.”
“I love you,” Luca shouts, loud enough that my neighbors will definitely hear. I like that. No, I love that. Knowing that someone, somewhere might overhear Luca claiming me. “Fuck, Celine, I love you so fucking much.”
The tendons in his neck bulge as he thrusts into me like he would rather have a heart attack than stop. He chews on the hoop in his lip, and when Luca comes, every line of muscle and bone freezes at once. He holds himself still, then collapses on top of me as our combined panting fills my room.
I kiss his neck, having a hard time catching my breath when my whole body is jelly. That was a life-altering fuck, and I need to regain my equilibrium. I clear my throat. “So we’re clear: cum dripping out of me on the pole would not be hot.”
“Agree to disagree.” Luca pulls back and grabs his phone off the bedside table. His focus sharpens as he reads his messages. “Alistair picked up the kids. No problems there.”
“That’s good.” I stretch my arms above my head. “How long do we have before we need to leave?”
Luca checks the screen again and winces. “Twenty minutes.”
I groan as I sit up, my muscles protesting. “Shower.”
Luca drops back on his heels, his lips curling into a pout. “Spoil sport.”
“Freak,” I toss back.
Luca smirks, then raises one eyebrow. “Baby, you haven’t seen freaky yet. I’ve been keeping it vanilla to avoid scaring you off.”
I roll my eyes and try to power walk to the bathroom. Unfortunately, it’s more of a waddle than a strut.
When something cracks behind me, I whip my head around in time to see Luca straightening a wildly crooked index finger. “What the fuck?” I say, flinching as he snaps another one back into place.
“That’s the third bone you’ve broken today,” he says, grinning at me. “I think you’re dangerous, Celine.”
“I already told you I’m dangerous,” I remind him, collecting my hair on top of my head into the mother of all messy buns. “And I don’t take credit for the fingers. Getting pulverized by the headboard was your idea.”
Luca nods. “I guess you’re right.”
Ignoring him, I raise my eyebrows as I do the mental math. “You said three bones, but you only reset two fingers.”
“Hmm?”
“What’s the third bone, Luca?”
Guilt flits across his face. “Umm, well this morning, before you actually woke up, you might have maybe snapped my collarbone. Ciprian fixed it though, and it barely hurts anymore.”
“What?” I shriek. “Luca. I had my heels planted against your collarbone just now. Why didn’t you say something?”
He puffs out his chest. “I don’t mind some pain with my pleasure.”
I throw my hands up and turn on my heel, ignoring the tingle that runs through me. Three fucking bones. That’s ridiculous. Stepping into the shower, I let the warm water soothe my sore muscles, then throw together my bag for the club.
By the time I walk into the kitchen, Luca is plating a salad. He used my favorite raspberry vinaigrette and topped it with toasted almonds. He sniffs the bottle suspiciously. “This smells like shit.”
“No, it doesn’t,” I defend the dressing, snatch the salad from the counter, and take a massive bite. Gods, that’s good. “Thanks.”
Luca watches me eat with satisfaction. “I knew you wouldn’t want something heavy before your shift, but after? After, I’m going to feed you your bodyweight in protein and carbs.”
I imagine a greasy burger, and my stomach gurgles. “What will you eat?”
“You. Duh.” Luca winks and presses a water bottle into my hand.
I hide my smile. Him being in my space is starting to feel good. Maybe happy endings aren’t only for fairy tales and porn, after all.