Chapter 40 – Lily #2
“And you’re the love of my goddamn life!
” he shouts, and I rear back in surprise.
“Don’t you get that?” His soft, tortured eyes connect with mine, and my heart stutters.
“Lily, you are everything. You can’t—” He clears his throat, looking away.
“You can’t expect me to pretend my chest isn’t being ripped from my body every time you’re in peril or pain.
Like I wouldn’t scorch the entire Earth to keep you safe. ”
“Aster,” I say, but it comes out a whisper. He takes my hand, eyes boring into mine, so gentle and reassuring.
“I would rather you hate me. Never speak to me again. Never let me touch you again”—his eyes flicker with moisture and assuredness as he rubs his thumb over my knuckles—“than allow anything to happen to you. I would not survive it.” My soul leaves my body at his confession.
“Not when you’re the air I breathe. The reason for my humanity. Not when I love you.”
My heart soars, stomach fluttering like an entire tornado of butterflies have escaped their cages, never to be recaptured.
I rest my hand on his cheek. This man has so many layers, and as angry as I am for him forcing me to leave, I do realize returning inside could have been a massive risk.
A risk that he wasn’t willing to take because… “You love me?”
“Of course I do.” He caresses my arms, and I blink back tears.
If anyone understands the desperation to protect the people you care about, it’s me.
If I could have saved Violet, I would have done it without hesitation.
Consequences be dammed. “And if you don’t want to say it, if you’re not ready, I fully understand.
I know you’re angry with me and that my—”
“I love you too,” I blurt, unable to keep the feelings bottled up. Because I do, and he deserves to know. Life is too short to not make sure your people know how cherished they are. And I never want Aster to go a single day wondering if I care as deeply for him as he does for me.
“Really?” He sighs into my touch, gaze dropping from my eyes to my lips, and I nod, chest tightening.
“The way we met was unconventional, and while I’ve spent a lot of time cursing the cosmos and abandoning the idea that everything happens for a reason…
I think there’s a reason you happened to me.
When we met, I was so lost. I’d accepted that fate dealt me a shit hand to the point I even took on being a cosmic force myself.
” I huff a laugh. “But being with you”—I take his hands in mine—“loving you, that’s pure, beautiful kismet.
” His blinks, a tear trickling down his cheek, and I swipe it away.
“You made me believe in fate again. You made me believe in myself.”
“I love you, Karma baby,” he croaks out.
“I love you, Grim.”
His lips are on mine in an instant. Strong.
Claiming. All-consuming. I’m hoisted off the ground, my legs wrapping around him, and he carries me across the path, then sets me on the edge of the car’s hood.
I bring my fingertips to the hem of his hoodie, tugging it and his shirt upwards.
In one fluid motion, he rips them off, tossing them to the side.
My mouth goes dry as I drag my finger between his muscular pectorals and over his rippled abs towards his V.
So damn hot.
He unzips my jacket, tugging it off, then dips his fingers under the hem of my T-shirt and pulls it over my head, tossing it on the hood. I don’t even have time to worry about the cold air nipping my skin because his warm hands are on me. Every inch of me.
“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles, kissing my cheek, neck, and making his way down to my chest. “So brave.” He runs a finger down my spine, and goosebumps erupt in its wake. His touch finds its way to my legs, and his hand glides over the fabric covering my marking. “So mine.”
Fuck.
Pushing a palm against his chest, I hold him an arm’s length away. The whiplash from my anger to his love confession has me in need of catching my breath. “You want me?” I ask as my eyes drink in his delicious body, and he nods eagerly. “Then you’re going to have to beg for it.”
A mischievous glint sparkles in his eyes, and I await his defiance.
His first knee hits the dirt, and I suck in a sharp breath, heat growing between my thighs.
His gaze still holds mine when the other hits the ground, and I brace my hands on the hood, searching for a grip on reality and finding none. This man is truly a gift from the gods.
He looks at me with such softness. Such adoration. Yet in the same moment, there’s that delicious darkness in his expression. It’s all-consuming. Addicting. And knowing I have the power to bring this powerful man to his knees instills a pride in me I can’t explain.
He’s mine.
I’m his.
And there’s not a force in this universe that will rip us apart.
“Please,” he murmurs, placing his hands on my knees, gripping tight.
The plea is reverent, addictive. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my entire life.
And right now?” His hands slide upwards.
“I want to show you how badly I want you. How badly I need you. How inexplicably in love I am with you.” Every ability to say no leaves my brain.
I kick out a leg, and he reaches down, tugging off my hiking boot.
A moment later, he’s done the same on the other side.
“Can I stand?” he asks, and I chuckle, clenching my thighs.
“Such a good boy, asking for permission.” I reach behind, unclasp my bra, and toss it. My nipples pebble in the cold air, and he groans, tugging his lower lip between his teeth as he drinks me in.
“Please, baby?” He rubs his hand down the front of his jeans. “You’re killing me here.” Desperate want pulls at my core, and I understand his sentiment because I have never desired anything more in my life than him inside of me, right here, right now. “What do you need from me?”
“Fuck me,” I demand. Before I can blink, he’s on his feet, fingers expertly finding the button of my jeans, his lips crashing into mine.
Like desperate college kids, we fumble with each other’s clothes until we’re both naked.
It’s not lost on me we’re completely exposed on the side of the lake.
We also just outran God knows who. But those horny receptors are taking over again, and I can’t find it in me to stop. I want him, and I want him now.
Besides, if he can finger-bang me under Jude Westerford’s desk while we’re eavesdropping to solve a murder, surely some lakeside fornication after almost getting shot and confessing our undying love to one another is perfectly appropriate. It’s called trauma fucking. Look it up.
Aster drops to his knees once more, hooking his arms under my legs and tugging my ass to the edge of the cool hood.
Hypothermia is but a fleeting thought when the heat of his gaze sears my skin, the lust-fueled fire thrumming through my veins banishing the chill.
His finger runs over the bandage from his marking, and he places soft kisses up my opposite thigh, stubble scraping deliciously against my skin, until pausing directly at my center.
He lets out a throaty groan, and then his face is buried in my pussy, the vibrations of his enjoyment causing me to writhe and squirm beneath him.
The squawk of birds overhead heightens my awareness of our surroundings, turning me feral.
“Such a pretty little cunt.” His dangerous eyes find mine, fingers toying with my entrance. “You ready for more?”
Desperation tugs at my core. “Forget the foreplay.”
“What?” He chuckles.
“I want you inside me.” His brows rise. “Now.”
He stands without hesitation and aligns his tip to my entrance with haste, then pauses, cursing under his breath. “I don’t have a condom.”
I rotate my hips, aching for him. “I’m on birth control.”
He cocks a brow. “You sure?”
“Grim, baby?” I arch my back, thighs tightening, and my etched marking aches, but I can’t find it in me to care. If anything, I’ve already learned I enjoy a little pain with my pleasure. “Please. Please fuck me.”
He laughs, low and sultry. “Who’s the one begging now?”
My eyes meet his in a challenge, but before I can get a snarky response off, he thrusts inside me, and my desperate moans fill the air.
He hooks his hand under my knee, the other behind my back, holding me as he fills me to the hilt.
He’s mine, and I’m full of him, I’m in love with him, and I’ve never wanted anything more.
The exhilarating stretch of my inner walls and the sharp sting from his marking adds to the delicious pressure.
His lips mash to mine, and our tongues tangle in a sloppy, beautiful mess.
Even in the crisp dusk air, sweat trickles down our faces.
Our hands are a balance of frantic exploration and tender caresses, and when he hits that sweet spot inside, I gasp.
The heat of our argument, the gentleness of his love confession, the euphoria of him filling me completely, it’s all too much.
My body trembles, nearing closer to the edge.
“Do you want me to pull out?” he asks.
I shake my head.
I want him to claim me in every way, even this. Especially this.
“Make a mess of me,” I beg, too frantic and wired to make a demand.
The strangled plea drives him wild, his pace turning brutal as he pistons into me, his thumb rubbing over my clit until I explode.
My vision darkens, narrows, until it’s only him and the clutching orgasm.
With a whimper, he shudders, spilling into me, and moments later, we’re both a huffing pile of tangled limbs.
He rests his lips against my shoulder, pressing a soft kiss against my sticky sweat.
“Let me love you forever?” Aster murmurs, the question unguarded and so unlike him.
“Forever is a very long time.”
His emerald eyes meet mine, and he drags a thumb along my cheek. “With you it’ll never be enough.”