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Luke wanted to tell Keltan he was wrong, that this was his woman and he’d handle it and he’d be level-headed and Rosie wouldn’t shoot him.
Thing was, he wasn’t sure about any of those things, apart from Rosie being his woman.
But it was a fuck of a lot more complicated than that.
“Deal,” he said.
Before, he knew it wasn’t the right time to walk up to her door and claim her.
But it wasn’t before anymore.
So he pushed out of Rosie’s car, slamming the door shut, and headed for her apartment.
To claim his woman.
Fucking finally.
Chapter Fifteen
Rosie
I was still standing with my back against the door when it started banging.
I jumped, turning to look at the offending wood.
It’s him, a little romantic voice inside me said. It’s him not putting up with any of your shit and finally getting you two where you need to be. Together.
No it wasn’t. I’d done enough. Pushed him away enough. Even I was sick of myself.
I expected it to be Polly, telling me about the epic breakup of the marriage. Or Gage, telling me he wanted to go blow things up. He’d learned a few things from me on that score.
Or my downstairs neighbor who I’d become fast friends with wanting to have a Supernatural marathon.
I expected all of those people.
I didn’t expect Luke.
But there he was, in all his glory, his kiss still echoing on my lips.
I expected words.
He was the good guy. When the good guy turned up on your doorstep, there were words. Proclamations. Declarations. Apologies. Accusations. Tears. Whispers.
But he wasn’t the good guy. Not anymore. And I was reminded in the most exquisite way.
“What are you—”
I didn’t finish my sentence because the words had nowhere to go but Luke’s mouth, which was plastered on my own. He didn’t hesitate in plunging his tongue inside, kissing me mercilessly, pushing me inside the apartment with so much force a vase shattered on the floor.
I barely heard it.
And the slam of him kicking the door shut.
The roar of my heartbeat almost drowned everything out.
Luke’s hands were not chaste, they were not hesitant, not tender, worrying about the demons they summoned with such a passionate touch. Not like before. Not like last time.
The last time was the striking of the match.
This was the unleashing of the entire fucking inferno.
I knew, as he ripped my tee off me, sucking at my nipple through the lace of my bra, that there would be nothing remaining of me amongst the ashes when this ended. And it would end. Infernos burned hot and quickly.
His hand went straight into my panties, landing on the perfect spot without needing to search.
I cried out in surprise and pleasure. He bit at my lip, drawing blood.
And then his fingers were inside me.
And I didn’t care what little would be left at the end.
Endings didn’t matter when you were at the midst of the most beautiful of beginnings. Or maybe this was just another in a long line of endings.
I didn’t give a fuck.
Not when Luke had me naked in front of him, his eyes burning with carnal desire. His gaze devoured me, saying everything he thought about my naked body without uttering a word, as if we knew words would ruin this, bring about reality, sever the connection.
Then he knelt like he was worshipping me, the most tender of gestures juxtaposed by the raw and brutal look in his eyes. He stayed like that for a moment, and then his mouth was on me, right there.
I screamed. I couldn’t help it. Maybe it was because he hit the perfect spot with the perfect amount of pressure and tongue. Maybe it was because I hadn’t realized I hadn’t had good, carnal, and brutal sex in… forever.
Or most likely it was because it was Luke.
It was Luke kneeling at my feet. It was Luke’s mouth on my most intimate part of me, Luke’s kiss that mingled with the taste of blood in my mouth.
I clenched his hair as he stoked my fire, unleashing the climax that turned my knees to jelly. His hands immediately came to my hips, steadying me, holding me up as my shudders washed over me.
Every aftershock was jarring, hitting all my fragile nerve endings. The loss of Luke’s mouth and the rush of humid air on my bare skin sent shivers vibrating through me.
His mouth immediately covered mine, which was expelling breath so rapidly I vaguely wondered whether I’d pass out.
I really hoped I didn’t pass out.
His taste mingled with my own served to build up the desire that I’d thought he’d just sated. My hunger for him was not quelled after that. Not after this long.
We had years to make up for.
He growled as my fingers ripped at his tee, detaching from my lips for the second it took to yank it off his body. The second he was separated from the material, he yanked our naked torsos together, the electrifying combination of his skin against mine something beyond perfect. I scratched at the flesh of his back, moaning at the same time he hissed out a breath when I broke the skin. His eyes were almost black, telling me he liked it like that.
