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My heart is running wild, threatening to beat out of my chest. Luka’s hands come to my back, and the light touch of his fingertips makes me gasp. He tracks my face, gauging my response to him, and I hold his eyes until I can’t stand it anymore.
Surging up on my toes, I bring his mouth to mine. Hands circle my waist, and he presses into me, his tongue tracing my bottom lip. I open for him, his kiss claiming, his tongue ravishing me, and stealing my breath, like he has stolen my heart.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I tangle my hands through his hair, and he pulls his mouth from mine. I agonize at the loss of him, but it fades as soon as it festers. Two hands scoop me up, and I love how effortlessly he lifts me to him, needing me.
Our noses graze, and I peck a kiss on his. It’s a pause, a moment of suspended time in the way he yearns for me. His eyes close at the sweetness of my kiss, and unspoken words run between us. He carries me to the couch, sitting down but not letting me go.
Over three months of learning about Luka; of being in his world. Now I know—there is nowhere else I’d rather be.
The cords on his neck pulse with tension, and I focus there. The weight of the world etched on his face. I lift my finger, smoothing the tight lines formed between his brows. His eyes drift closed, and I soak in the peacefulness settling over him.
“Kate … you have no idea what you do to me.” He draws me closer, and a deep gasp bursts from me. The muscles in his biceps clutch at me, almost as if he is afraid I’ll disappear.
“There is something unbelievable and right about seeing you here, in my lap.”
I sigh. There is something right about being here.
I lift my head and bring my mouth to his cheek, climbing up and around behind him. He stiffens when I bring my hands to either side of his shoulder blades. I kneed the muscles there, hoping to help relieve the stress. I drag a light touch down his chest, walking my hands around his back, pressing and massaging.
“What is the tattoo on your back?” I’ve seen it through his shirt several times, and it’s always intrigued me.
Luka reaches up and brings his shirt over his head. A large tattoo covers most of his back—it is a mural of art. Flames engulf a large sun, all in black ink. The intricate way the fire is woven throughout the detailed sun is beautiful.
“I got it after my twenty-first birthday—the age when I realized this was the life I was inheriting, whether I wanted it or not.”
He shakes his head, a groan leaving his lips when I press my thumbs deep into his shoulder blades.
“What does it stand for?” I ask, glancing to the windows to see the deep indigo night lit by the glow of city lights. The night is clear and calm, and it’s reflected back in the penthouse. The dim lights of the kitchen are on, but here in the living room, we’re only illuminated by the night sky.
Luka’s shoulders shake in a silent chuckle. “Would you believe me if I said Nik picked it out?”
I pause my hands. “Nik?”
“Yeah. He went with me and told the tattoo shop his idea, and when they drew it out, I was on board.”
I laugh out loud at the thought of Nik designing the permanent ink on Luka’s body. “Do you have any others?”
“Why? Want to see?” Luka’s head turns to glimpse over his shoulder, a smirk on his face.
I draw my lip into my mouth, but he shakes his head.
“I don’t have any others. Nik hasn’t wrangled me into another one.”
“Yet,” I add.
I press a kiss to his shoulder blade, reaching my arms around his middle. He pulls me back around to him, the warmth of his lap seeping through me.
“Do you have any tattoos?” he asks, eyes peering down at mine.
A smile widens on my face. “No. I could never decide what to get. I’ve thought about it, though. Are you going to come with me if I figure it out?”
“As long as it’s not a pickle jar or something.”
“Hey!” I poke at his ridged abs, and he kisses the top of my forehead.
We stay entwined in silence. Neither one of us wanting to break the spell. I nestle in his warm arms, and a yawn escapes me. I lean my head against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.
The sound is a reminder that I almost could’ve lost him—never met him.
