Chapter Twenty-Nine
Kara
With a thought, I dematerialized my blade and cleansed the blood from my skin, using a shimmer of power to erase the wolf demon’s mark from me.
Luke cocked his head, arms loose at his sides, watching. Still shirtless. Still dangerous.
“I don’t think you understand that you’re the captive,” he said, though his stance betrayed the words—ready, waiting. Was he bracing for chaos and willing to let me bring it?
I wasn’t foolish. I was strong, but Luke was stronger. Unless I caught him off guard, I couldn’t overpower him. Sure, I could hurt him, but he could hurt me far more.
Still… I wanted to play a game. One where I touched him without asking. One where I saw how far I could push before he remembered he was the Devil.
“I asked if you were going to sit,” I murmured, voice soft like smoke, “or if I need to sit your ass down myself.”
I peeled off my shirt.
Heat flushed through me as his gaze darkened, devouring every inch of me.
“Pretending to want my touch again?” he asked.
The words cut deeper than I expected. He still thought this was an act. A manipulation.
But the truth was simpler: today had been about sorrow. I needed something—someone—to burn the sadness away. I needed a release. I needed him.
It should have made me cry.
Instead, I burned.
I took a step toward him, reached for his ribs—just to shove him, to move him—but then everything changed.
The second my fingers brushed his skin, it hit me.
Like a punch to the gut, a sudden hollowness opened inside me.
My breath caught.
My power was gone.
Moving him would be impossible now. Without my strength, I couldn’t shove a door open, let alone a devil.
And Luke would sense my mortality—he had to. It was in his nature to detect weakness, to exploit it. Yet…he didn’t.
I dropped my hands, cheeks burning. Brute strength had always felt like my only bargaining chip with him. I refused to ask for what I wanted—relief, attention, comfort. I was very stubborn. Too prideful. And maybe, just maybe, I wanted to meet cruelty with some of my own.
Then, he did the unexpected.
Luke crossed the room and dropped into his oversized chair like it was a throne, spreading his legs wide in a way that made heat punch through my stomach. He didn’t look at me—he studied me. And not once did he mention the obvious: I was mortal now. Powerless.
Instead, he leaned back, eyes simmering with something too dark to name.
“I think I’ll enjoy this punishment more than you,” he said simply.
That was all.
No smug smirk or threat. Not even a mention of my vulnerability.
Somehow, that was worse.
I unbuttoned my jeans as I closed the distance, slowly and deliberate. His gaze tracked every inch of my skin like he was cataloging sins. Once I stood between his knees, I let the denim fall to the floor, stepping free of everything that covered me.
“You undress so easily for someone so hard to look at,” he murmured, tongue grazing one fang—as if fighting restraint.
I took his hand and guided it between my thighs.
His claws retracted instantly.
“Perhaps you mean the opposite of what you say,” I whispered.
He locked eyes with me as his fingers slid over me—light, exploratory.
He couldn’t feel me, but gods, I still felt him.
A tremor ran through me at the deliberate attention.
When he found the place that made my breath catch, he gave a soft press and flick—clinical, almost, except his gaze had turned ravenous.
Then he pulled his hand back and stared at the shine across his fingertips.
“You shouldn’t be this convincing,” he said hoarsely.
And before I could answer, he lifted his fingers to his mouth.
He couldn’t taste—but he imagined.
The thought alone painted longing across his face like a wound.
My breath stuttered. I swung myself across one of his thighs and rocked once, just to feel it.
“You can’t taste,” I said, voice breaking. “So why do you do it?”
His pupils thinned into slits of burning hunger.
“Oh, but the thought, Kitten,” he rasped. “The thought of knowing what you’d taste like...”
Heat pooled low in my stomach, a greedy tide threatening to drown me.
I braced my hands against his chest, tracing the molten patches of glowing skin. He should have repulsed me—horned, inhuman, ancient—but to me he looked like something carved for worship.
“Mine,” whispered something reckless in my bones.
His fate was to conquer the world.
Mine, apparently, was to conquer him.
We were never aligned unless skin touched skin. Maybe it was all in my head. Maybe I was the only one feeling anything.
“Touch me,” I ordered, grinding down on his thigh. Sparks shot through me with every motion, bright and unrelenting.
The Dark One obeyed. His palm skimmed my spine, his claws nicking the clasp of my bra before flicking it away.
His hands cupped my breasts, heavy and possessive.
My breath hitched. His stare was molten—hungry in a way no mortal man could replicate.
The way he looked at me alone nearly dragged me over the edge.
I couldn’t stop moving against him if I tried. I chased the friction like a starving thing, my body tightening with feverish need. Every sound I made only sharpened his focus. He leaned forward and closed his mouth over my breast—heat and pressure and claiming.
That was all it took.
But when the wave subsided, I was still shaking—and still empty.
Still aching for something he couldn’t give me.
Before the pulse faded inside me, Luke was lifting me by the hips. My eyes shot open, and I saw the wet spot on his pants I left as I braced my hands on his chest.
“Put your knees on my thighs,” Luke ordered, and I listened because I hoped it led to another orgasm. His legs were spread just enough that I was parted on top of him but not so much that I couldn’t hold myself up.
He plunged two thick fingers into me, and I nearly lost my balance at the sudden intrusion. His free hand gripped my hip, so my knees didn’t slip.
“Luke!” His name was nothing more than a moan as he rammed his digits into me.
Did he realize I needed more? Because he was freaking giving it.
“Keep your balance but fuck my fingers. Show me how you’d ride me.” Luke’s voice was gruff and purely sexual. “I won’t let you fall.”
I lifted my gaze away from where he played with me.
The urge to look at his face overwhelmed any reason not to.
Our eyes met, and something locked into place.
A rush of warmth bloomed in my chest as if I had planted something there.
I couldn’t pull away from those bright red orbs.
I let them pull me in as I rolled and bucked myself onto his fingers.
It didn’t take but a few seconds before I felt the first throb of my approaching orgasm.
When I shuddered, realization dawned on Luke’s face, and he did something unthinkable.
He crushed me to his chest, gripping me tightly to him.
He felt strong, yet the embrace was warm and secure, building into my ecstasy.
Then he lowered his head to my neck and peppered kisses across the skin there.
And he inhaled and inhaled. There was no stopping on his part, and my body combusted, the pleasure feeding and building off the snuggles.
The sensation brought the urge to tear up. He kept me embraced, holding so tightly and inhaling repeatedly. But he couldn’t feel me. He didn’t know my scent either. I believe he deeply desired to. I doubted it was me, but more like he yearned for any sort of touch, taste, or scent after so long.
I wanted it to be me.
Hades, he was the enemy I had to stop when the portal opened. Still, I hadn’t felt so drawn to someone since Shadow hijacked a boy’s body in high school. There seemed to be a pattern. I chose men who weren’t men and could offer no emotional attachment.
The realization didn’t stop me from curling into Luke’s lap. He removed his fingers but still nuzzled me. As I nestled against him, I heard his heart beating. The sound was soothing. When I sighed deeply, he stiffened and pulled back as if to gain distance.
“Do you think that if you sniff me enough you might eventually smell me?” I asked lazily as I dragged my hand down his chest.
“It’s a crime to have you in my arms and not feel the weight,” he murmured instead of answering. “Why are your eyes closed? If you’re tired, go to bed.”
I shook my head, wrapping my arms around his ribs as I curled into him. “Hold me. I want to sleep here.”
“You.” I didn’t open my eyes to see his expression, but I could hear the tension in that one word. But his voice got softer and softer with each word said, “You are exceptional at deceiving me.”
“Then we make quite the pair, don’t we?”