I opened my mouth to deny it, to scream it, I don’t even know. But then his hand slid up my thigh, parting me, and my breath broke on a desperate gasp. He kissed me again, swallowing every sound, devouring me until the only thing that existed was him, his weight on me, his heat penetrating my cold, wounded soul with his life changing touch.
The rest of my clothes were gone before I even realized he’d stripped them from me. His hands worshipped every inch of me, rough palms skimming soft skin like he was memorizing me. His mouth followed my throat, down to my collarbone, the swell of my breast, sucking, biting gently until I was shaking beneath him, clutching at his shoulders.
When his tongue circled my nipple, fire shot through me. “Lucien,” I gasped, arching into the warmth of his mouth.
“That’s it,” he growled, dragging his mouth back up to mine. “Say my name when you come baby.”
My face burned, but the words sank into me, stoking something deeper than lust. It was possession, raw and absolute. His hand slid lower, parting me, fingers stroking the slick heat between my thighs. I cried out, my hips bucking into his hand.
“Already so wet for me,” he rasped, kissing me hard enough to bruise. “You were made for me, Sorcha.”
I didn’t want to believe it, but my body betrayed me again and again, grinding against his hand, clinging to him like I’d die if he let go. And then he was pulling back just enough to strip his shirt over his head which had my breath catching.
The first thing I saw were the tattoos, black, winding lines of ink crawling up his arms, across his chest, symbols I didn’t recognize but felt like they were ancient, dangerous. They framed his muscles like armour, sharp edges and jagged patterns carved into living canvas. His body was all raw strength, honed muscle layered over muscle, like he’d been built to fight and to win.
His chest rose and fell with a predator’s steady control, but lower, his abs tightened, ridged and cut, and the sight made my thighs squeeze together helplessly. The dark trail of hair leading down only dragged my eyes further, until I had to force myself to look away, only to be caught again by the veins running thick and strong down his forearms, his hands, those hands that touched me like I was something precious and breakable and his all at once.
I swallowed hard, heat flooding my cheeks. He wasn’t beautiful in the way storybooks described. He was brutal, carved from shadows and fire, and God help me, I wanted him anyway.
His eyes never left me as he stood over me, his gaze burning hotter with every second I watched him. He knew what I was thinking, he knew what I wanted. And when his hands went to the belt at his waist, I couldn’t look away, no matter how much I told myself to.
This was madness, he was madness. And I was already lost.
His belt hit the floor with a sharp snap of leather, and the sound made my stomach tighten. His hands went to his jeans, shovingthem down in one rough motion. My breath stuttered when I saw him, heavy and thick, his arousal standing proud like even his body knew I belonged to him. A jolt of heat shot through me, sharp and undeniable, and the fear tangled with something darker…want, need, something I’d never felt this raw.
Lucien’s gaze burned into mine as he climbed back over me, caging me with his strength. Every inch of him radiated heat, the kind that sank into my skin, the kind that demanded surrender. His chest pressed to mine, hard muscle against softness, his heartbeat steady and relentless.
“You feel it, don’t you?” he murmured, his lips brushing my ear, his voice low and jagged. “The bond. The way your body begs for me. You’re mine, Sorcha. From the moment I found you.”
His hand slid down my thigh, rough palm searing my skin as he hooked my leg over his hip, opening me wider, pressing himself against me so I could feel the blunt, aching weight of him at my entrance. I gasped, my fingers clawing at his shoulders, every nerve ending screaming for more.
Need. Desire. It all blurred into one overwhelming rush as Lucien kissed me again, slower this time, a bruising kind of sweetness that broke me open from the inside. His tongue tangled with mine, his grip on my hip tightening like he couldn’t stand the space between us.
He pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes glowing faintly in the low light, sharp and merciless and utterly decadent. “Say it,” he ordered, his voice a growl. “Say you’re mine.”
I shook my head, half defiant, half terrified, but my body betrayed me, arching up into him, desperate. A sound tore from my throat, something between a plea and a curse.
His lips curved, dark satisfaction ghosting across his face. “I’ll make you say it.” And then he pushed forward, just an inch, just enough to make me cry out and clutch at him like I’d fall apart without him. He stilled there, his forehead pressing to mine, his breath ragged.
“You’re mine,” he whispered, and this time it wasn’t a demand, it was a vow. And then he was inside me. One deep, hard thrust that stole the air from my lungs. I cried out, the stretch burning and perfect all at once.
“Mine,” he growled, his mouth crashing against mine as he moved again. The rhythm was relentless, brutal and beautiful, every thrust forcing a sound from my throat, every drag of his body against mine winding me tighter and tighter. His fangs scraped my neck, but instead of fear, pleasure shot through me, sharp and consuming.
My nails dug into his back, my legs locking around his waist as I clung to him. His pace drove me higher, until I was breaking apart, trembling around him with a cry muffled against his mouth.
He didn’t stop, he didn’t slow, instead his thrusts grew rougher, deeper, claiming every part of me until there was no air, no thought, just him.
When he came, it was with a groan torn from his chest, his teeth sinking into my throat at the same moment his body shuddered inside mine. The pain and the pleasure collided, flooding me, sealing something inside me I didn’t understand.
And when it was over, he didn’t pull away. He held me, his lips brushing my temple, his voice a low vow. “You’re all mine now. We are bound, no one will ever touch you but me. No one.”
And I believed him. God help me, I believed him.
For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt safe. My body was wrung out, but the bond between us thrummed like a pulse under my skin, anchoring me to him. I should’ve been terrified of what just happened. Instead, all I could think about was the way he held me like I was something he’d kill the world to protect.
Lucien shifted, leaning back enough to look at me. His eyes were still glowing faintly, his chest rising and falling with slow, deliberate breaths. But I felt it, his mind was still running a hundred miles an hour, already calculating, already claiming.
“Tell me about before,” he said, voice low but unyielding.
