Silently, he shakes his head.
I take his hand in mine, lift it to my face. The scarring remains, a permanent memory of the night he dug me out of the ground. “You never gave up.”
I’m not talking about that, and he knows it. His throat bobs. “I keep my promises.”
He doesn’t move as my hands slip to his shirt, and I push it up. My throat closes up at the sight of the two vivid red scars. “I thought—,”
Hands close over mine. Cover up those scars, those memories of him on the ground, crawling toward me, toward Alessia.
“It will take more than a little cut,” Luc says softly, “to take me away from you, Caterina.”
The dampness in my eyes spills over onto my cheeks. “You never gave up. You got her out.”
I cup his cheeks when he tries to look away. “I had help, in the end.”
Amie. He walked away, left her there to save Alessia.
The guilt is plastered over his face, and I swallow down that sudden, irrational fear.
I know how it feels to be locked in an impossible situation. How easily feelings can develop. And even the thought of it feels unbearable, the thought of losing him in that way—
I suck in a breath to ask, but warm lips cover mine. Luc kisses me gently, reverently, before he pulls back, reading my mind as he always has. “No. There is only one woman I love, and she’s standing in front of me right now.”
“Luc—.”
“I loveyou,” he says fiercely. “And I will keep loving you. On all of your good days, your bad days, and every day in between. I love your shadows and your lines and every single fucking part of you, little crow.”
He brushes my tears away. “Every single piece of this jagged heart of mine is yours.”
And then he grins at me. “My condolences.”
I choke out a laugh, and then his lips are on mine again. There is nothing invasive about his touch – it’s almost inquisitive. A gentle question, rather than a forceful push.
I’m the one who pushes. I kiss him back, softly at first, relishing in the feel of him against me as my hands slip to his face and I pull him closer, my arm winding around his neck. Luc’s arms slip around my back, fingers wrapping into my tangled hair, and I push him back, blindly searching until his back hits the closest tree.
When I tear my lips away, pressing them to his cheek – lower – his hands grip my hips. “Cat. We don’t have to—,”
My voice is firm. “He does not get to take this from us.”
This connection, this sensation—
They have already taken too much.
No more.
Luc’s grip tightens at my words. He opens his mouth, but I slam my lips against his, my fingers moving to the buttons on his shirt before I pull back to take a breath. “Keep this on?”
He only nods, his eyes following the path of my fingers as I flick the buttons open on my own shirt and shrug it off, letting it fall to the ground.
He says nothing, as I stand there, bared before him under the stars. His hazel gaze sweeps over me, lingers on the white scar marring my breastbone.
My hand raises instinctively but he catches it. “We all have scars. Yours are part of your story, Cat. Every part of you is beautiful to me.”
He traces his fingers over it, follows the trail with his lips as I sink into him. He swaps our positions, nudging me back against the tree as his lips move lower.
Lower.
His hands wrap around my thighs as he lifts me up, my legs hooking over his shoulders. I’m already wet, trembling with need as he brushes his lips against my pussy. And my hands tangle in his hair, holding him against me, my mouth opening in a silent cry as he swipes his tongue against my center.
