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We both go quiet, and I look back at him.
“Wait—why do you ask?”
He peers at me, unflappable…even if his pupils dilate slightly.
“Just curious.”
Silence hangs heavy as we sit there, my head spinning as I wonder what the hell he meant. Of course…I know what he meant.
He wants me to give in.
Maybe he somehow already knows I will.
I can feel the pull of him, magnetic and undeniable. My body remembers his touch, the craving, and now he’s right here, flesh and blood and heat.
“Here’s the thing,” Luka starts, voice low, gravelly. I turn my head, our faces inches apart. “I’ve got this feeling…”
“Yeah?” My pulse hammers in my throat; it’s a live wire sparking with every breath he takes.
“Like gravity’s gone haywire,” he says.
“How do you mean?”
“It’s like…” he pauses, then holds up his hands, twirling them around each other like planets in orbit. “It’s like you’re the sun, and me and Gunnar and Oberon and Vance…we’re all planets drawn into your gravity. Ever since you showed up, Star, I’m just…”
He moves his hand again.
“I’m circling you.”
I don’t know if I feel more like he’s a planet circling the sun or a shark circling chum…but I find I don’t really care.
I want to be touched.
I need it.
“Will you hold me?” I whisper.
Wordlessly, Luka puts out his arm and wraps it around my shoulders, drawing me into his warmth. He smells like soap, slightly of animals, and that powerful aroma of incense wafts over me. I close my eyes, trying not to get overwhelmed.
But it’s everything.
I thought this would satisfy me, but it’s just making everything worse.
“Breathe, Aisling,” Luka murmurs, his calm exhale doing nothing to set me at ease.
“I can’t, Luka,” I rasp, choking back a sob. “God…they’ve been giving me eros, making me crazy. I need to be touched. I need to be fucked. And having you here…”
“You don’t have to do anything,” Luka says. “I won’t force you.”
“But what if I want to?” I ask, and look up into his eyes.
They’re so green.
I don’t know who kisses who first, but his lips find mine, and it’s like striking a match, igniting something wild and uncontrollable. I let out a breathy moan into the cavern of his mouth and his tongue slides past my lips, and I start trembling with the rush of sensation.
The kiss deepens, hungry, desperate. He tastes like sin and salvation all rolled into one, and I’m lost in the disorientation of his touch.
He pulls back just enough to speak, and his breath fans over my lips before he pulls me closer, presses a kiss to my throat. He inhales deeply in my hair, tongue darting out across my pulse—over Oberon and Gunnar’s bite marks.
