Chapter 13
Nyxa
Iwake up first.
The room is still bathed in shadows, the early light creeping through the curtains like it’s afraid to disturb us.
North lies beside me, one arm flung over his eyes, his chest rising and falling in that calm, heavy rhythm of deep sleep.
Even bruised and bandaged, he looks like something untouchable, mine for now, though I know better than to believe in forever.
But god, last night...
A slow smile curls across my lips as I slide out of bed, biting back a gasp at the delicious ache between my thighs. Every step is a reminder of his hands, his mouth, the weight of him moving inside me, like he had all the time in the world to put me back together.
And he did.
He kept his promise.
Made me come like no one else ever had, not even close.
It wasn’t just sex, it was something else. Something real and mine.
I pad into the kitchen, North’s shirt still clinging to my skin, stretched across my hips and smelling faintly of cedar and smoke. I feel soft. Open. Like I’ve been peeled back and there’s nothing to hide.
I lean against the counter and close my eyes for a moment.
Breathe.
Savor.
Because for the first time in what feels like years… I feel good.
Not just safe or touched but wanted.
Desired in a way that didn’t feel transactional or twisted. He didn’t just take. He gave every look, every touch, every breath. And the way he watched me, spoke to me, worshipped me with that wicked mouth and that damn piercing…
My cheeks are on fire just remembering.
I had questions, sure. A lot of them. But he answered every one of them with his body. Patient. Unapologetic. Showing me just how good it could feel when someone took their time. When it wasn’t about power or punishment or control, but about want.
About us.
I press my palm to the counter to steady myself, laughter bubbling up in my throat.
Because somehow he, with all his rough edges, his growls and glares and his impossible strength, made me feel soft again.
Like a woman.
Like maybe I could be more than what they all tried to break me into.
Last night might’ve just been a moment to him.
But to me felt like something I didn’t think I’d ever get to have.
A beginning.
My fingers brush the base of my neck where his hand held me steady, firm and careful all at once. I can still feel the imprint of his voice, his heat, the way he said my name.
Like I mattered.
And whether it lasts or not, I’ll carry that with me.
I open the fridge and gather the ingredients, moving quietly. Whisking the pancake batter feels almost sacred in the silence. Like a small gift I’m offering to this new version of myself, the one who feels worthy of making breakfast in someone else’s kitchen. In his kitchen.
The sound of bare feet shuffling in breaks the stillness. Arms slide around my waist.
I freeze.
But only for a second.
His scent, the warmth of his body, the safety of his hold... it sinks into me. I melt into him. “You’re up early,” he rumbles into my neck.
“So are you,” I murmur.
He presses a kiss to the side of my head, then scoops me up with a grunt.
“North!”
He grins through the pain and sets me down on the counter. I barely have a second to protest before his hands are on my knees, gently parting my legs.
Heat rushes to my cheeks and lower.
I look down at him. The bruises on his chest, arm, and thigh make me ache for him, but he’s already smirking.
“Pancakes can wait,” he says.
I swallow. “Why?”
His grin deepens as he drops to his knees in front of me. “Because I want my breakfast first.”
I hold my breath as he leans in, trailing kisses along the inside of my thigh.
“North...” I whisper, trembling.
He glances up, that wicked glint in his eyes. “Don’t worry, Firefly. I know exactly what you need.”
His mouth is on me before I can breathe another word. Slow at first. Teasing. Then deeper. Rougher. Possessed.
My hands fist in his hair. I cry out, loud and shameless, when he sucks just right. When his tongue circles that spot like he was born to ruin me.
And ruin me, he does.
My thighs clamp around his head as the orgasm crashes over me, wild and raw. I scream his name but he doesn’t stop. Not until I’m shaking, squirting against his mouth, my body wrung out like a storm just passed through me.
He stands slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He then presses a kiss to my forehead. “That’s what a good morning looks like.”
I can barely catch my breath, let alone speak. Still floating, I manage a weak, “So... about those pancakes?”
North smirks. “We’re all having breakfast at the BB today.”
I blink. “Wait, all of us?”
He nods, stepping toward the coffee machine like he didn’t just wreck me on the counter.
I tuck my hair behind my ear. “Can I bring the pancake batter and make them there?”
He gives me that look. The one that’s half amusement, half growl. “You’re home, Nyxa. If you want to bake, cook, grill steaks or flip pancakes for the whole damn hood, do it. You wanna stay and just watch, that’s okay too.”
And just like that, something warm and real blooms in my chest.
Like maybe I really am home. Still breathless, I stare at him in disbelief. “You’re insane.”
“You’re welcome.”
I blink back the sting of tears, smiling like a fool. “Thank you.”
He growls, eyes flicking to the tent in his boxers. “And now I’m fucking hard again.” He stalks off down the hallway toward the shower.
“Need help with that?” I call.
He flashes me a look over his shoulder that damn near buckles my knees. “You’re the one who caused it. But if you join me, we might stay in all day. And we can’t.”
With a dramatic sigh, he disappears around the corner.
Still giddy, I toss in a few more eggs and double the batter. After wiping down the kitchen, I carry the laundry to the bedroom and start straightening up.
I pause at the dresser. My fingers brush the soft cotton of a floral sundress I haven’t dared wear since… well, Vero bought it.
It’s pretty. Maybe too pretty. I hesitate, suddenly unsure.
Would he like it? Or would he laugh? I leave it on the bed and tiptoe down the hallway.
I knock lightly, then open the door.
The sight steals my breath.
North stands in the shower, one hand wrapped around his cock, head tipped back, muscles taut. He’s jerking off, and fuck, it’s a sight.
I don’t move. Just lean against the counter like he did last night. Letting my gaze roam. Shit, I have to clench my thighs. I’m a mess.
He notices me the second he steps out of the shower. Our eyes meet, and he grabs a towel, wrapping it low on his hips, water still glistening on his skin.
“Well, well…” he says, voice low and teasing. “Enjoying the view?”
“I figured fair’s fair,” I reply, biting back a grin.
His smile spreads, slow and dangerous. “You’ll kill me, Firefly.”
I pick up the gauze and antiseptic from the counter. “Let me help with that bandage.”
He nods and we move in the bedroom, watching me closely. I clean the area carefully, biting my lip to keep from staring too long at the V of his hips.
“What’s the dress for?” he asks, nodding to it.
“I thought maybe… for breakfast?”
“You worried I won’t like it?”
I shrug. “You’re more of a jeans-and-tee kind of guy.”
He grunts. “You’re mine. That’s all that matters.”
I grin and tilt my head. “Jeans or dress?”
He groans. “Woman, you’re making this hard. Don’t need the fucking hood to give me shit about my hard-on.”
“Dress then.” I kiss his cheek and head off to change, heart so full it might explode.
Whatever this is, it’s starting to feel like home.
And damn if that doesn’t scare me, but it also makes me want to hold on tighter.
Later, we ride to the BB. Everyone’s still half-asleep, groggy, and silent. I stifle a giggle as I carry the pancake mix into the kitchen. The ladies beam at me the moment they see my dress.
“Damn, Nyxa! You look like sunshine,” Jess says.
“North’s gonna need CPR,” Andrea teases.
I roll my eyes and laugh, letting myself sink into the warmth of their company. We laugh, trade jokes, and for a while, I forget the past. It’s easy with them. Natural.
When Eva pulls out a sponge cake and starts cutting it into perfect slices, I lean in curiously watching all the ingredients displayed on the table.
“Whose birthday is it?”
Everything freezes. They all stare like I’ve grown a second head.
Shit. My heart does a weird flip. “Tell me you’re joking,” I murmur, eyes still scanning the crowded room.
Eva shakes her head slowly, almost smiling like she’s watching a movie unfold. “Prez hates birthdays. Never celebrates. We usually bake a cake, cut it, drink like hell, and pretend it’s just another excuse to party. But this is the first time he brought someone with him.”
My throat tightens. “Why didn’t he say anything?”
“Because he’s North.” Kayla shrugs. “You’ll learn fast, he doesn’t want attention unless it’s for his club.”
“But he deserves it,” I whisper.
“Then tell him,” Eva nudges. “He won’t admit it, but... it means something, Nyxa. You mean something.”
I whirl around, searching the crowded room until my eyes lock on his.
Even mid-conversation, surrounded by his brothers, he’s already looking at me and just like that, my heart catches fire.