His cock plunged deep in one swift thrust. I was so damn wet, he met no interference. He slid to the hilt with one gruff, “Fuuuuck.”
“Luther, oh God,” I gasped into his open mouth, breathing the same hot air. “Luther,please…”
“I know, sweetheart,” he groaned, rolling his hips. “I know.”
I keened, whining into his throat.
My nails clawed into his shoulders, pulling him closer until there wasn’t a breath of space between his bare skin and mine. Red welts appeared down his spine, and I locked my legs around his waist to keep him rocking deep. Then, I curled my fingersin the damp waves of his hair and held him impossibly tighter, moaning into him.
Slowly at first, he fucked me as if trying to luxuriate in what we were doing and the fact we had survived against all odds. Gentle, affectionate, appreciating the feel of my body succumbing to the bliss he offered.
It felt like he was trying to make the moments last for as long as possible. And I held on tight, absorbing everything he gave me.
His hips snapped against mine, his cock stimulated divine pleasure inside my cunt, and the beating of his heart matched the tempo of mine. He fucked his desire, his devotion, and his possession so deep in my core I didn’t think there was any part of me that wouldn’t be his for the rest of my life.
Sensation pulled taut inside me, and my back arched into him. He thrusted harder, faster, pounding me into the bed as my legs quivered around his waist. He lifted his head, staring openmouthed in awe as I hurtled toward my release.
The first wave of my climax hit when he slammed his mouth into mine and told me, “I love you.”
I was caving under the pressure of a shattering orgasm when I gasped back, “Oh, God, I love you too.”
We came together in a glorious breakthrough of euphoria.
My inner walls clamped down on his cock, fluttering with wave after wave of sensation. He fought to keep up his rhythm as his cock twitched and he spilled inside me.
It was a combined nexus that welded our souls together. A surge of ecstasy, swelling in my marrow and escalating into the prickles of bliss bursting along my skin. Body, blood, bones, and soul, we were tethered for life.
I fell asleep with his arms banded around me, tucking me into the safe embrace of his body and warmth. The memory ofwicked yellow eyes, feathers, and fire faded like mist in the wind as a gentle darkness swept in to carry me away.
33
Spring settled over Kilbride with a gentleness that felt almost unreal. It was as if the city and campus were aware of the fragile peace forged in the cavern beneath its foundations and were at long last breathing a sigh of relief without the chokehold of Moloch and his apostles. Kilbride could finally combat the plague of corruption threaded through the streets and politics since its conception.
Luther and I didn’t get much time together in those days. The aftermath of what we experienced had threads tangled around our lives that needed to be unraveled. But I was glad to have him beside me in the dark of the night, falling into exhausted sleep securely in his arms.
Most of the daylight hours were spent apart. In the immediate wake, Luther had the last of Moloch’s loyal followers to root out. All the ones who couldn’t transform but still had influence. In the end, I didn’t ask who he found or what he did with them. I knew I would despair at his methods of interrogation and preferred not to think about it. Not even when he returned to me with blood stained in the lines of his palms.
He wanted to keep me safe, so I submitted to his desire. Hours, days, weeks, and months were spent recovering from the trauma and throwing myself into the busywork of school. Without monsters watching from the shadows or lurking on my trail, I could finally power through my final year of university as intended.
I had a thesis to finish and finals to study for.
The chaos eventually calmed. Life settled into a measured routine. My wounds scarred over, beginning the long, arduous process of healing. But the scar tissue would remain as a reminder of what transpired forever.
One night when I was drifting off to sleep, Luther asked what I wanted to do after graduation. Even in the dark, he looked concerned. Like the wrong answer would separate us. But I’d fallen hard, deeply enough to know that what we had was too profound to lose.
“Well,” I started, “I wanted to go back to England to study archives. That was always my goal while attending Oxford.”
I waited for him to stiffen, to frown, to plead with me not to leave.
But he grinned, ocean eyes glittering in the moonlight.
“Alright, then we’re going to England.”
I tried to bolt upright, but his brawny arm kept me caged to the bed. He merely chuckled as I squirmed in his hold.
“Wait, wait, but what about the school and your position? How can you be so cavalier about leaving it all behind?”
“With my qualifications, I could find work anywhere,” Luther bragged. Then he shrugged before pulling me back into his chest and resting his chin on my head.
