14. Luka
Luka
She can’t sleep, and because she can’t sleep, neither can I, which is fine, because I’m the one on watch and my mate not sleeping is a problem I’m well qualified to solve.
The Palace at night is a cold, echoing thing, all that black stone, all those shadows, and I prowl the bedroom in panther form for a while because the shape of me settles her, she likes to fall asleep with a hand in my fur.
Except tonight she doesn’t fall asleep. She lies in the enormous bed staring at the ceiling, and I feel it through the bond, the churn of her, the fear she won’t say to the others because she thinks she has to be brave for all of us.
She doesn’t. Not with me. That’s what a mate is for.
I shift back to a man and slide into the bed behind her, wrap myself round her, chest to her back, and press my mouth to the nape of her neck where her scent is strongest, sun-warm fur and something that’s just her.
“Can’t sleep, kitty cat?”
“Can’t switch my brain off.” She turns in my arms to face me, and in the low light her eyes are bruised with tiredness.
“Every time I close my eyes I’m back at that table with him.
Or I’m feeling her, Tabeitha, waiting. Or I’m doing the maths on how many lives I’ve got left and how many this is going to cost.” Her voice cracks.
“I’m so tired, Luka. Not sleepy-tired. The other kind. ”
“I know.” I tuck a loose strand of blonde behind her ear. “You’ve been carrying it for all of us. Put it down for one night. I’ve got you. Nothing gets past me while you sleep, you know that. I’m a very large cat with a very bad attitude.”
That gets a wet laugh out of her. “The worst attitude.”
“The worst.” I kiss her, slow, no heat in it yet, just warmth, just here. “Let me take your brain off you. Just for a bit. Just us. No throne, no ghost, no maths.”
“Yeah?” she breathes against my mouth. “How’re you going to do that?”
“Thoroughly,” I say, and I roll her under me.
I take my time, because time is the one thing I can give her tonight that nothing’s hunting.
I kiss down her throat, her collarbone, the soft rise of her breasts, and I feel her start to let go under me, the churn quieting, her body waking up in place of her racing head.
I close my mouth over one nipple and she arches, fingers fisting in my hair, and I work her slow, until the only thing in her head is me.
“Luka,” she sighs.
“That’s it. There’s my mate.” I slide a hand down between her thighs and find her wet already, and I stroke her slow, circling her clit until her hips chase my hand. “Feel that? That’s all you have to think about. Nothing else exists. Just this.”
I keep her there a long time, on the edge, until she’s begging, until there’s not a scrap of fear left in her, just want.
Then I settle between her thighs and lick into her, and she comes apart on my tongue with a cry.
I don’t stop, I keep going, greedy, because her pleasure is the whole point of me tonight.
“Please,” she gasps, tugging at me. “Luka, I need you, come here, I need to feel you.”
I rise up and push into her slow, all the way, and she wraps her legs round me and holds on. I brace over her and just feel it, the two of us, her heat, her breath, the mate bond humming warm and gold between us. I move slow, deep, no rush, watching her face come apart under me.
“Whose are you?” I murmur against her throat.
“Yours,” she breathes. “Yours, always yours.”
“Mine.” I feel it settle in me, that word, the truest thing I know. “And I’m yours. Whatever comes, kitty cat. This dimension can throw everything it’s got at you, and at the end of it, this is still true. You’re mine and I’m yours and no ghost and no ex and no cold white army changes that.”
She comes again with my name in her mouth, clenching round me, and I follow her over, spilling deep inside her. The realm drinks it up and glows warm around the bed, and for the first time in days I feel her whole body go loose and heavy and safe.
“Better?” I ask, gathering her against my chest.
“Better,” she mumbles, already halfway gone, her breathing evening out at last. “You’re a good cat, Luka.”
“The best cat.”
“Don’t push it.” But she’s smiling, and then she’s asleep, properly asleep, her hand curled in the hair on my chest. I lie awake and hold her and watch the door and let her rest.
Nothing gets past me while she sleeps. I meant it. Not tonight. Not ever.