Chapter 28
Lucian nodded, the rough stubble of his chin grazing her skin as his mouth closed over hers. His tongue thrust into her mouth, a desperate exploration. Her tongue, yielding, met his in a fervent, rhythmic sway.
His hands, a blur of motion, fumbled with the soft fabric of her pajama bottoms, the material whispering as it was pulled away.
His touch was a warm tide, tracing the smooth landscape of her skin, each caress sending a shiver through her.
A deafening roar filled his ears, a primal symphony of desire as his senses sharpened, yearning to taste her, to taste all of her.
His mouth left hers, a lingering warmth on his lips before it slid to her ear.
A sharp, delightful nip on the lobe, preceded by him sucking it into his mouth.
Her fingers tightened, nails pressing into the muscle of his shoulders.
He moved lower, his lips a warm trail over her skin, a gentle nibble marking a path down her shoulder.
Then, a more insistent bite at the peak of her breast. He moved lower until he found the hardened peak.
He flicked his tongue across her nipple.
Her back arched, a soft gasp escaping her lips as she brought the delicate flesh closer, drawing it into his mouth with a hungry suck.
He tugged at her nipple, the small, sensitive peak hardening beneath his ministrations.
He pulled it in and out, letting it scrape against his teeth.
Her hands, a frantic dance, roamed his back, nails digging through the thin cotton of his shirt, scratching at him.
His tongue flicked her nipple one last lingering time before descending, exploring down the curve of her stomach.
He bit into the soft flesh and pulled it back with his teeth, a teasing, possessive gesture.
Going further down, his tongue dipped into the hollow of her navel, a cool, wet invasion that tightened the muscles of her stomach beneath him.
He slid further down, his clothes rustling, dropping to his knees on the cool, damp earth that softened the impact.
A faint, sweet scent, uniquely hers, filled his nostrils as he found the center of her heat.
His tongue traced a warm path, eliciting a soft groan from her, before it dipped into her honeyed depths.
His hand rose, a finger slipping into her slick warmth, as his tongue flicked at the sensitive nub.
He dipped a finger into the slick heat, then another, feeling the wetness.
His lips sucked at her clit. Her hips arched, a soft groan escaping her lips as her hands clenched in his hair, pulling him closer to her core.
He strained to hear over the blood pounding in his ears, catching the frantic thrum of her heart, a wild beat that echoed the desperate pounding in his own chest.
Pushing up, he slammed his mouth back down on hers, smothering the gasp of surprise. With a quick tug, his zippered pants came undone. The urgency was blinding, a primal, frantic need to stake his claim, to cement the truth of their connection where no lie or illusion could ever touch it again.
He lifted her, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist. With brutal efficiency, he thrust into her wet, welcoming heat in one swift motion, the punishing plunge eliciting a raw, strangled cry from her. He was home. He was exactly where he was supposed to be.
The cold air of the riverbank, the roaring water, the possibility of discovery—it all vanished, replaced by the white-hot, agonizing pleasure of their union.
He moved in a furious, desperate rhythm, his feelings a storm of vindication and profound, terrifying relief.
This is real. She is my heart. Every thrust was an apology, a declaration, a desperate attempt to burn away the ten wasted years.
He was raw, exposed, and utterly possessed.
He watched her face, her eyes squeezed shut, the shadows of the morning light filtering through the tree canopy dappling her skin.
Her head was thrown back, a low, needy moan escaping her throat.
He focused on that sound, that beautiful, unspelled truth, driving himself harder and faster, seeking the glorious destruction that only she could deliver.
His hand slid between their joined bodies, fingers seeking and finding the slick, swollen bundle of nerves.
A reedy, broken breath escaped her lips, sounding more like a prayer than a gasp.
Lucian felt the rhythmic, involuntary clenching of her heat around him, a desperate welcoming that made his jackal howl with primitive triumph.
He felt the tremors start, running through her body like an electric current.
Her nails dug into the bare skin of his ass, and she cried out, the sound ripped from her lungs, sharp and high, as her world splintered.
Her climax hit him instantly, sending him over the edge in a wave of savage, desperate completion that left him gasping and trembling.
He held her tightly for a long moment, his head buried in the curve of her neck, inhaling her spiced honey scent like a man starving for air.
The cold air rushed in, chilling their heated skin, but he didn’t care.
He was anchored, body and soul, to this one woman.
He had just been too stupid and too stubborn to see it.
He slowly pulled out of her, letting her slide down his body until her feet touched the cold, damp earth. Their clothes were hanging in disarray, while he kept his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. He looked down into her vibrant green eyes, still hazy with the rush of their shared climax.
"Don't talk,” he murmured, his voice thick with unshed emotion. “Don’t say anything at all. Just know that was real, Goldie. Every agonizingly pleasurable moment of it."
Without waiting for her reply, he bent down and began re-dressing them, his movements possessing a rough tenderness. He helped pull her pajama bottoms back up, securing the drawstring. He was the one who was truly lost this time, unsure of what would happen or how he could win her back.