Page 118 of Abandoned By My Alpha Husband

"Then lose control," she whispered, pulling me down for another kiss.

That undid me.

I kissed her hard, pouring everything into it—five years of longing, of regret, of desperate searching. She met me with equal fervor, her hands roaming over my back, nails digging into my skin. I hissed at the sting, and she pulled back, eyes wide.

"Did I hurt you?"

"No." I caught her wrist and pressed a kiss to her palm. "Do it again."

Her cheeks flushed, but she smiled—a real, unguarded smile that made my chest ache. I kissed her again, slower this time, savoring the way she melted into me. My hands traced down her sides, fingers hooking into the lace at her hips.

"Can I?" I asked, lips brushing hers.

She nodded, and I slid the fabric down her legs, tossing it aside. She lay bare before me, bathed in moonlight and candlelight, and I had to stop and just look at her.

"You're staring," she said, voice small.

"You're worth staring at." I ran a hand up her thigh, feeling her shiver. "My wife. My mate. My queen."

"Lucifer..." She reached for me, pulling me down. "Stop talking and kiss me."

I laughed, low and rough. "Bossy."

"You love it."

I did. God, I did.

I kissed her again, deep and consuming, while my hands explored every curve, every soft line of her body. She arched into my touch, gasping when I found the places that made her tremble. The bond between us flared brighter, carrying her pleasure back to me, amplifying everything.

"Tell me what you want," I murmured against her ear.

"You," she breathed. "Just you."

I groaned, the last threads of my restraint snapping. I shed the rest of my clothes and settled between her legs, holding myself above her. Our eyes met, and in that moment, everything else fell away—the ceremony, the politics, the pain of the past five years. It was just us.

"I love you," I said, the words spilling out before I could stop them. "Elena, I love you."

Her eyes filled with tears, but she smiled. "I love you too."

I kissed her as I joined us, swallowing her gasp, moving slowly to let her adjust. She clung to me, nails digging into my shoulders, breath coming in short bursts.

"Okay?" I asked, every muscle in my body screaming at me to move.

"Yes," she whispered. "Yes, Lucifer, please—"

I didn't need to hear more. I started to move, slow and steady, watching her face for every flicker of emotion. She met me halfway, hips rising to meet mine, and the bond between us sang, golden and bright and unbreakable.

"Look at me," she said suddenly, and I did. Her eyes locked on mine, and I saw everything in them—love, trust, hope. "Don't look away."

"Never," I promised, and I meant it.

We moved together, finding a rhythm that was ours alone. The room filled with the sounds of our breathing, the rustle of sheets, the quiet gasps and moans that neither of us tried to hold back. The candles flickered, casting dancing shadows on the walls. Rose petals clung to our skin. The moonlight turned everything silver and surreal.

I felt her tighten around me, heard her cry out my name, and it pushed me over the edge. I buried my face in her neck, breathing in her scent as I followed her, the bond between us flaring so bright it was almost blinding.

For a long moment, we just lay there, tangled together, heartbeats slowing in sync. I rolled to the side, pulling her with me so she was draped across my chest. Her hair spilled over my shoulder, her fingers tracing idle patterns on my skin.

"That was..." she started, then laughed softly. "I don't even have words."