Luca loves me. My mother did, too.
And look where that got her.
I slam the lid of the chest closed, trapping the memory inside and locking it up tight. I don’t want to relive my past—once was more than enough.
Luca’s arm shifts against my belly, his fingers rubbing gently up and down my arm. “Talk to me, baby,” he whispers. “I can’t take it back, and gods know I don’t want to, but I won’t say it again if you don’t want to hear it.”
His honesty is the sweetest pain.
I sigh, snuggling deeper into his chest. Here in my bedroom, surrounded by the four walls I meticulously painted the color my father hates most, I can almost convince myself things are different. That I don’t have a murdered mom. A homicidal dad. And assassins haunting my every step. But my magic is cruel, even now. It won’t let me forget the truth.
“I will be the death of you, Luca,” I say, sorrow bleeding into my words. “Loving me will be the last thing you do, then I’ll be forced to carry the weight until I can’t stand it any longer.”
“Hey, don’t think that way. You don’t know that’s how it will end.” Luca cradles my face in his hand. “We’re stronger together, and we both deserve a happy ending.”
“Happy endings aren’t real,” I tell him. “They’re sanitized propaganda for people who can’t stomach the truth. Most of the original human fairy tales were horrific. Cautionary tales, not bedtime stories.”
Luca smiles against my temple. “Okay, say you’re right and happy endings aren’t real. If you believe that, why do you bother watching reality dating shows? Why do you make Imani soak when she’d rather give up and dry out? Face it, Celine, you may say you don’t believe in happily ever after, but you search for it every single day.”
He’s right, and I know it. Isn’t that why I left the celestial realm behind—to discover a version of myself who’s happy? Overwhelmed, I press my mouth to Luca’s, threading into the kiss all the things I’m not brave enough to put into words.
Luca kisses me back, and it’s different this time. His lips are the same. The rough scratch of his stubble is exactly as I remember it, and the thrill remains. But now, I know how he feels about me. All the question marks floating between us are gone, banished by his honesty, for better or worse.
I don’t deserve him, but I’m too selfish to let him go. IfI can’t give him the words he wants to hear, I’ll have to show him instead: by holding him tight, pressing my skin against his, and clinging like I’ll never let go.
I strip out of my clothes and toss his aside too. My movements are jerky, almost uncoordinated, and when I climb on top of him and sink until we’re joined, I don’t try to muffle my sigh of relief.
Luca moans softly, pressing his forehead to mine. “You feel amazing,” he whispers.
I nod. The stretch of him inside me, the sharing of pleasure, the knowledge that I can trust him not to drive a knife into my back when I turn around—this is better than amazing.
Hungry for more of him, I suck in a startled breath when he surges beneath me and flips us over. Gazing up at his face, I lift my chin, and his lips find mine again.
He starts to thrust, setting a slow, steady pace that drives me wild. His dick piercing grazes the spot inside me that makes my legs turn to jelly. I nibble on the hoop in his bottom lip in retaliation, tugging until he groans my name.
“I’m sorry I panicked,” I blurt, staring into his familiar hazel eyes, desperate for him to understand. Ever since I woke up to his pained expression as I pinned him to the wall, I’ve been hurting him. I never want to see that look on his face again.
“You don’t have to apologize,” Luca insists, feathering butterfly kisses along the side of my neck. “We’re all haunted by something.”
I plant my heels on the bed and roll my hips, creating a delicious friction I want to experience every day for the rest of my life. “You never talk about what haunts you,” I say, panting as a particularly perfect thrust makes my toes curl.
“You want to discuss it now?” Luca asks, a light sheen on his forehead.
Chuckling, I gasp, then lick the salty sweat off his neck. “After.”
Luca grunts and braces both hands on the headboard above me, his fingers curling around the top. He grins. The carefree expression makes my heart leap.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Making sure we don’t knock a hole in your wall. Or break the bed.”
“Why would—” My question melts into a surprised moan as he shoves into me with ten times the force, using his grip on the headboard to get better leverage.
“Your ankles,” he says. “Put them to good use.”
I curl my legs, walking my feet up his chest until they’re both planted on his collarbones. He winces, then kisses my right ankle. “That’s it, baby. Try not to be too loud... Or scream all you want. They’re your neighbors, not mine.”
I clench my pussy around his cock in punishment, enjoying the way his eyes flash yellow, his pupils narrowing to horizontal slits. “Do your worst,” I taunt, a shiver of anticipation adding an edge to my pleasure.
