Chapter 28

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

The Ghost - Five weeks later

It’s been too long.

She probably thought she was rid of me.

I laugh under my breath as I approach the foot of Wyn’s bed. It’s warm tonight, so she’s lying on top of the covers in nothing but an oversized T-shirt and lacy, see-through panties. She’s on her stomach, hands tucked beneath her pillow, one leg pulled up. My cock swells at the sight of her panties riding up that plump ass.

It’s dark, but with the curtains open slightly, moonlight touches her face. Her delicate features are perfect—her long lashes resting on the curve of her cheek, her pink lips pouting slightly. Fuck , she’s so beautiful, just watching her makes my chest constrict so tightly, it hurts.

I unzip my pants and pull my cock out. It’s already rock-hard, throbbing, ready to fuck, and fuck hard. I spend a few minutes stroking myself as I watch her sleep. She has no idea I’m here, and that thought excites me.

But I won’t last long. Soon, I’ll have to be inside her, pumping my load into that sweet pussy, and when I do, she’ll be wide awake. She’ll know exactly who's fucking her. Who’s filling her to the very brink.

I only last a couple of minutes before that familiar pressure starts building at the base of my shaft, and I release my cock. I reach down to grab Wyn’s ankle. She jolts awake and tries to twist onto her back, but before she can, I pull her roughly to the foot of the bed. With a yelp of surprise, she tries to kick me.

“My pretty little whore,” I growl. “How I’ll devour you.”

Her eyes climb to my dark mask, and they flash in genuine disbelief. “No. Stop,” she gasps, breathless, trying to pull her ankle out of my hand. “W-what are you doing?”

I laugh under my breath but I don’t answer as my hand travels from her ankle to her knee. I pull her open wide while using my free hand to tug the crotch of her panties aside. Oh, yesss . Her pretty cunt is already wet and swollen.

Kneeling at the foot of her bed, I lean in and touch the tip o f my tongue to her pussy. She sucks in a sharp breath as I run my tongue along the seam of her entrance. He knees fall wide, and her hips lift off the mattress. I lick her long and slow, the taste of her sweet honey coating my tastebuds.

“Fuck, you taste so damn good…”

“Lucas…” she pants, bucking her hips.

Pulling back, I sink my teeth into her inner thigh, then push my fingers into her channel, pumping in and out while I bite into her soft, creamy skin. Her strangled moans drift on the breeze, and she lifts her hips, reaching down to push her fingers through my hair.

I suck on her clit while pushing my tongue past her engorged pussy lips, lapping her up, drinking in the cream of her arousal. I devour her, tongue-fucking her cunt until she’s thrashing beneath me.

“Oh, my God!” she breathes, bucking against my mouth, her pussy throbbing around my tongue like a heartbeat, her cum drenching my tongue.

When I feel her orgasm subside, I grab her waist and flip her onto her stomach. She fights me, and I smile as I subdue her, pressing my hand into the small of her back to keep her from thrashing.

“You know better than to fight me,” I warn, slapping her ass. The sharp whack reverberates through the room, and she cries out.

“Stop,” she whimpers. “ Please. Don’t do this.”

There’s genuine fear in her voice, but it doesn’t stop me. It only feeds the monster inside. With a low chuckle, I push one finger into her pussy, wetting it with her juices before removing it and sliding it into her ass. As soon as I touch her there, she jerks forward.

“I own every inch of you, Wyn Barker.” I slap her ass again, harder this time, leaving a red welt in the shape of my hand. “Your body is mine. Every fucking breath in your lungs is mine. Remember that.”

She stops fighting me just long enough for me to grab her hips, and pull her back to me. “I’m fucking this ass tonight,” I warn. “And there’s nothing you can do to stop me, so you might as well give in…”

Dipping my finger into her pussy again, I drag it up, coating her puckered hole with her own juices. Then I push one finger inside her, then another, and another, moving them in and out, until she’s nice and loose for me.

She could probably use more prep, but I’m so hard for her, I can’t even think straight. I’ve been denied the heaven of her body for too long already.

Removing my fingers, I slowly push the head of my cock into the heat of her ass. Holy shit. She so damn tight, it takes my breath away. I sink into her with a deep, thunderous moan, my body curving over hers, my hips instinctively bucking against her.

She feels incredible. Fuck. This is why there’s no goddamn hope for me. I’ll always be addicted to this girl. I’ll always be pulled to her.

Gripping her hips. I thrust into her, pushing deeper, her body opening up to me. I slam into her a few more times before I break, exploding inside her, pumping my cum into her tight ass.

I’m lightheaded when I pull out of her, and I collapse next to her on the bed, the wound on my chest screaming in pain. I wince and pull the mask off my face. Fuck, that hurts.

Wyn switches the light on and turns to me, swatting my shoulder. “You asshole,” she hisses. “This is exactly why we’ve been sleeping separately. The doctor said ‘no sexual activity’ for six weeks! It’s only been five.”

I reach over and pull her against me, despite the shard of pain that’s permanently embedded in my chest. It feels like a piece of glass has punctured my skin and become wedged between my ribs. That mind-blowing orgasm was worth the pain though.

“And yet, I’m still alive,” I reply. “Not sure I would have survived one more week of forced celibacy, though. It was a calculated risk.”

She pops up onto one elbow and rests her head on her hand. “Well, no more sex for you,” she says playfully. I chuckle at that because we both know the second I touch her clit, she’s putty in my hands—doctor’s orders be damned.

Her fingers brush over the dusting of hair on my chest, but she’s careful to avoid my wound, which is still healing. “So, um…” She clears her throat, and I can tell that whatever she’s about to say, she’s hesitant to bring up. “Has there been any progress with the Shadow and Ash situation?”

I know she’s afraid—and she has every right to be. What happened five weeks ago was fucking unhinged. The Burning Crown has never been attacked like that in all a hundred-plus years we’ve been in existence. And on our own fucking turf, too. That’s the part that really gets me—the fact that they felt so fucking bold.

“The Sacred Sons and the senior counsel are meeting tomorrow at Rush House to discuss our next steps,” I say.

“It’s been over a month,” she says. “I’m shocked you guys haven’t come up with a plan already.”

I push out a heavy breath and let my gaze roam over her face. She’s so fucking perfect. How is that even possible? Even her flaws just seem to add to the tapestry of her beauty.

Goddamn, now I’m a poet? That’s what love does to a guy, I guess.

“Pulling back to regroup is all part of the strategy,” I tell her. “They have the advantage over us. God only knows what information Gabriel fed them about the Burning Crown. We, on the other hand, know next to nothing about them.”

“Know thy enemy…” she whispers.

“Exactly,” I say, running the tip of my finger up her arm. Her skin is so smooth. “We’ve spent the last several weeks digging up all the information we can on the players involved—starting with their leader, Sin Savano.”

She falls back against the pillow with a heavy sigh. “I’m just…” She swallows. “I’m so afraid they’ll come after you again. I can’t sleep at night.”

I trace patterns on her arm, enjoying the feel of her warmth. “They caught us off guard once. They won’t do it again,” I say, my jaw clenching. The fucking cunts. “We have eyes on them at all times, now. We know everything they do. When one of them takes a shit, we get a full-page report on it.”

She scrunches her nose. “I’m also looking forward to the day when I’m not being followed around by a team of former Navy SEALs. They’re not exactly subtle.”

I turn over onto my side, biting back the pain so I can face her more fully. “It’s only temporary, baby, I promise.” I reach into my pocket and pull out the thing I stashed there earlier. It’s pinched between my thumb and forefinger, and I bring it up, so it enters her line of vision. “But there’s something much more permanent I want to talk to you about.”

She sucks in a shocked breath, which is exactly the reaction I was hoping for. “Lucas…” she says, looking at the ring. “It’s… gorgeous. But it’s too much. I can’t wear it out in the world.”

It’s a 8-carat roundcut engagement ring that caught my eye a couple weeks ago. I knew the second I saw it, I had to have it for her. I grab her left hand and slip it onto her ring finger. It fits perfectly. Then I bring her hand to my lips and kiss the ring, sealing it in place. “Now all we have to do is set a date,” I say.

She holds her hand up to look at it, then looks back at me with a brow raised. “Didn’t you skip a step?”

“No,” I say.

“You’re supposed to ask if I’ll marry you…”

I shrug and shake my head. “I’m not asking.”

She laughs. “God, you’re impossible. The ask is the most romantic part…”

“Giving you the chance to say ‘no’ is romantic?” I smooth my hand over her hip and tug her closer. “Not gonna happen.”

“I guess it’s a good thing I would have said yes. I’m on all of your bank accounts, anyway, so…”

I wrap my body around her, and bury my face in her hair, breathing in her sweet, flowery scent—and that’s how we fall asleep, tangled up in each other, our heartbeats in sync. This, right here, is true happiness, and I’d do anything to protect it. Anything.