Chapter 12
TWELVE
Desire is control.
CELINE
I stumble down the squat tunnel connecting the cage to the locker room with shaking hands. The sting on my palms from putting the fire out keeps me grounded. Barely.
I nearly cooked Thorn. And as soon as my flames transferred from my wings to his clothes, I could have cooked myself too. Gods, I never meant for it to go that far, but beating him fair and square feels amazing.
His magic attacks hurt. Lightning replacing the blood in my veins, they seared my nerves and raised the stakes. In the cage, I wasn’t Verity competing in an underground supernatural match; I was Celine fighting for my life.
A dull glow illuminates the bottom of the tunnel, and I can’t tell if it’s another charm or a basic strip light. Either way, it gives me enough light to navigate the tunnel. The exit is only a few steps ahead, bright and—blocked by a shadowy figure.
I freeze and raise my trembling fists.
“It’s just me,” Lyss says. “Are you okay?”
I wince. There’s a new wariness in her voice.
I don’t want her to fear me . . . but maybe it’s for the best. I’m not exactly doing a great job protecting the friends I already have.
I miss hanging out with Imani. I miss getting drinks with Brandy, Ada, and the girls.
Keeping them at arm’s length is necessary, but I didn’t expect it to be this hard.
I nod, not trusting my voice yet. The prickling pain from Thorn’s magic is still running through my body. From the weave of the sweaty socks hugging my feet to the light at the end of the tunnel—I’m hyper-aware of every sensation.
“Good,” Lyss says, walking toward me slowly. She stops in front of me, about halfway through the tunnel. “I’m going to scoot around you if that’s okay.”
That’s when I realize I’m blocking her way; fists raised like a maniac. I drop them and clear my throat. “Of course. Sorry, I . . . Good luck, Lyss.”
The signature gap-toothed grin stretches across her face. “That’s The Recluse to you.” She lifts my right fist and bumps it against her own.
“Knock him dead,” I say, digging deep for a smile. “Or at least unconscious.”
Lyss squares her shoulders and raises her chin, and I see the spider staring back at me. “On it,” she says.
Sagging against the curved wall of the tunnel, I let her pass, watching until the emcee calls her name and she steps through the magic film disguising the tunnel’s opening.
A muffled argument echoes from the other end of the tunnel.
I whip my head around and squint, wishing I had stronger night vision, or a godsdamned flashlight or something. If I’m about to get jumped in a glorified tube, I’d rather see whose ass I’m beating.
Another shadow blocks the opening, broad shoulders eclipsing the light.
For a heartbeat, the shadow doesn’t move, then it explodes into action, shooting toward me with determined strides.
“I will fuck—” I suck in a breath when the shadow reaches me, and I recognize Luca’s familiar chiseled jaw.
“Perfect,” he growls. “Fuck me raw. Fuck me sideways. Fuck me up. Whatever the fuck you want, baby.” Then his lips are on mine, harsh, demanding, crazed. I grab his hair roughly, desperate for him to match the heat roaring through my veins.
His tongue tangles ferociously with mine, but his hands on my face are gentle. “You were great,” he groans.
“Shh,” I demand. “We can talk about the fight later. Touch me. Now.”
Luca doesn’t argue. He devours my neck, scattering hungry kisses beneath my ear before bringing the lobe into his mouth and biting it. There’s a pulse between my legs, demanding to be satisfied as the adrenaline from the fight turns to arousal with one scrape of his teeth.
I grunt, shuddering with pleasure, then shove my hand down the front of Luca’s pants. His cock is hard, the skin warm and smooth. I roll my thumb over the pierced tip and grin as he jerks against my fingers.
Luca’s breathing is loud in the enclosed space. Touching him makes my desire shoot from a simmer to a rolling boil, and before I realize it, I’ve pinned him to the side of the tunnel.
His hands skate down my ribs. Grazing my bare skin, they send little explosions of pleasure through me. After the pain of Thorn’s magic, it’s the perfect contrast.
Luca drops to his knees.
There’s so little room in here that the position drives me against the opposite wall, his face at my waist. He rolls my spandex pants down and breathes me in, eyes flashing yellow in the gloom of the tunnel.
Then, he buries his tongue inside me. No teasing licks, no easing in—Luca fucks me with his tongue like he wants to devour me. There’s something about seeing him on his knees for me in a tunnel, with fighters on one end and a crowd on the other, that drives me crazy.
I rock my hips against his face, the telltale buzz of my orgasm building.
We don’t have long. The fight between Lyss and Dominic could end at any time, although the muted thuds and grunts echoing through the tunnel tell me neither has tapped out yet.
Luca’s eyes dart right and left, then up at me. He winks, pulling his tongue out of my pussy and using it to lash my clit instead. I writhe against his face, not sure if I want to get away or get closer.
His grip on my thighs tightens. I could break it, but why would I want to?
All I want right now is for this moment to last. The pleasure.
Being held by someone I trust. It’s too good.
He’s too good. How did the friend who watched my back for years become the guy who eats me out until I drip down his chin like an ice cream cone left in the sun?
As if Luca can hear my thoughts, I feel his grin between my legs a second before he uses his thumbs to spread me wide.
Don’t come. Don’t fucking come, I order myself. I don’t want this to end, so I hold back.
My chest heaves as I frantically take in a new lungful of oxygen. The air smells of sweat and sex and that perfect masculine scent that is Luca Saratelli. When he runs his lip ring over my clit, I know I won’t be able to hold back much longer.
Ten more seconds. Give it ten more seconds. I lock eyes with him and focus on my countdown. Three-two-one—a wave of pleasure crashes over me. For a breathless moment, I hover outside my body. Time isn’t real. There’s only Luca.
When I return to myself, the sounds of the fight and my own panting are the first things I notice. On his knees, Luca’s calloused grip on my hips is the only thing keeping me upright.
It’s the perfect reminder of why I’m fighting. Because this life is worth living—every chaotic, disruptive moment of it.
“Luca,” I gasp. My legs wobble as I try to stand on my own.
He surges to his feet, ducking his head to avoid grazing the ceiling and wiping the back of his hand across his grinning mouth. “Delicious.”
I face the wall, arching my back so he’ll get the message: I want him more than my next breath. This entire building could collapse around us, but if I don’t feel his pierced cock splitting me open soon, I’ll be the one knocking it down.
Luca runs his hand over my ass and moans.
I grind against him. “Hurry up,” I whisper. “We don’t have much longer.”
A collective shout comes from the direction of the fight. The audience is disappointed in something. I’m running through the possibilities when Luca thrusts all the way inside me. The aching stretch is exactly what I need, and I bite my lip to keep quiet.
He doesn’t waste time or try to tease either of us. Each thrust is deep and fast, hitting a spot inside me that makes my legs shake. When my arms give out, I let them, dropping my cheek against the cool, rough wall as Luca fucks me without mercy.
His fingers dig into my hips, hard enough to bruise.
I smile, hoping I’ll see all ten fingers outlined on my skin once I get home. I hope they don’t heal fast. I hope I’m out of concealer. I hope I have to take the stage at the Fang tomorrow night with his handprints all over me, and everyone sees how badly he wants me.
His skin slaps against mine, impossibly loud in the cramped space.
Luca, my Luca, the guy who’s patient to a fault but hunted me down to fuck me in a dark tunnel because he couldn’t wait a second longer.
My pussy flutters around his cock as my heart skips a beat.
He’s everything to me. Why have I wasted so much time pretending I could ever let him go?
I can’t live without him. I don’t even want to.
“Luca,” I gasp, my heart beating too fast.
“Yeah, baby?”
“I love you,” I blurt. His rhythm stutters, and I rush ahead.
“And I’m not saying it because your dick is amazing or because I might die soon, or because you said it to me first and I feel guilty for not saying it back.
I’m saying it because I don’t ever want to spend another day without you, and I want everyone to know you’re mine. ”
“Yes!” He groans against my ear; his chest pressed to my back. “Say it again while you strangle my cock.”
“I love you, Luca,” I repeat, sobbing the words against the wall.
His hand comes down on my ass cheek. The crack echoes through the tunnel as he thrusts into me one final time and stiffens, groaning in my ear. “I love you too, baby.”
Another orgasm rolls through me. This one is smaller, but it’s more than my exhausted body can take. My muscles turn to jelly, and if it weren’t for Luca fixing my clothes and helping me get moving, I would still be lying here in a pile of limbs when Lyss comes back.
“If the fight doesn’t end soon, they’ll call it,” Luca says. His raspy voice sends another convulsion through me. On cue, the bell rings, motivating me to move faster.
We step into the brightly lit locker room hand in hand. It’s not as crowded as it was earlier. A lot of the fighters left to watch the earlier bouts from the private balcony Resker gave us a code to access. Thorn is nowhere in sight.
Not crowded doesn’t mean empty, and I see every sly smirk tossed my way. One guy winks at me and opens his mouth, only to close it again after glancing over my shoulder.
I narrow my eyes, annoyed that Luca is the one he’s scared of.
He should be scared of me.
I’m the one who won a brutal fight, and I’m no less deadly to him because he finds me hot. For fuck’s sake, I lit someone on fire.
Tits turn men into fools.
“You can beat him up next time, baby,” Luca says, his breath tickling my neck.
“Fingers crossed.” I return the idiot’s wink. He blanches and goes back to wrapping his hands. “How did you get in here?” I ask Luca as I tug the heavy metal door open.
“Threats.” He shrugs, ignoring my sharp look.
The door swings shut behind us with another horrific whine, and I find myself face-to-face with the oddest standoff I’ve ever seen.
Alistair leans against the wall, ankles crossed, in a pose that’s too deliberate to be casual, and Malach stands rigidly across from him, his beefy arms crossed. The tension between them crackles, and I slump, exhaustion getting the better of me.
“Are you hurt?” Malach asks. His green eyes scan me for injuries.
I shake my head and force a small smile. Alistair says nothing, but his gaze is hot and thorough as it sweeps me from head to toe.
“Do you want to watch the rest of the fights?” Luca asks me, running his thumb over the top of my hand.
“No.” I squeeze his fingers and shift my weight, wincing as I feel the coating of sweat, magical residue, and cum on my skin. “I’ve had enough of the cage for one night.” All I want is to get home and scrub myself clean.
Without a word, they fall in around me: Luca on my right, Alistair on my left, and Malach behind me. I shake my head. I fought a powerful fae and won, but they think I need bodyguards to make it through a crowd?
My lips twitch. It’s ridiculous. Absurd. Why do I love it so much?