I breathe out a shaky laugh, cupping his jaw. "You promise?"
He leans in, his forehead resting against mine. "Yeah. I fucking promise."
His lips meet mine with a hunger that’s been simmering between us for a while. It’s not sweet, it’s desperate and hot, like he’s burning and I’m the only thing that can put the fire out. His mouth devours mine, and when I moan and pull him closer, tighter against me, his hands slip beneath my shirt, rough palms sliding over my ribs until he lifts it over my head. My skin prickles in the cool air, nipples peaking as he dips his head to kiss down my throat, across my collarbone, over the swell of my breasts.
"God, look at you," he murmurs, thumb brushing across my nipple through the lace of my bra, making me shiver. "So fucking perfect."
I tug his shirt off, fingers shaking as I run them over the hard lines of his chest. Every inch of him is muscle with hot, smooth skin. The boy I crushed on and the man I’ve been falling for all tangled up in one beautiful body. He lifts me from the counter, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carries me down the hall to my bedroom. He lays me on the bed like I’m breakable, but the way his eyes darken tells me exactly how he wants to ruin me.
He kisses his way down my body, slow and reverent, until he’s kneeling between my thighs. His strong hands land on my parted legs and push them wider before they skim up to the bottom of my skirt and then he inches it up slowly until it’saround my waist. I reach to pull him on top of me, but he just growls and pushes my hands flat against the bed.
“You need to have patience, baby. You have no idea how long I’ve imagined, fantasized, about being right here between these gorgeous thighs. I’m not going to rush this after waiting so long.”
I moan when the back of his fingers brush over my mound and my hips lift, searching for more. His heated grey eyes lift up to meet mine, and the look in them has me biting into my lip as my whole body flares with need. His fingers tighten on my thighs at what he sees on my face and then he snarls, “Fuck, I can’t wait.”
He drops right down until his hot mouth covers my pussy with only the thin barrier of lace separating us. I can feel the heat of his exhale against me as he breathes deeply and then he rips that lace right off of me.
I reach down and grasp his head to stop him. I want this so badly, but I need to know. I need to be sure before we take things too far. “Mars…are you sure? Like, really sure about this. Atlas…”
His expression softens, and he brings one of my hands from his head and kisses my fingers. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, Luna.”
When his tongue finally slides over my aching flesh, I moan and grip the sheets, hips bucking up to meet his mouth. He licks me like he’s starving, like he’s memorizing every sound I make, every twitch, every gasp.
"You taste like heaven," he growls, holding me open, lapping at me until I’m sobbing his name. And when I come, it’s like a wave crashing through my entire being. This! This is what Jules was trying to tell me the night of my prom. How this feels is everything it’s supposed to be, and I’m so happy that it’s this man making me feel it all.
He doesn’t wait, doesn’t give me time to settle from the orgasm. He surges up, kisses me hard, and quickly slides a condom on before lining up and surging into me in one deep, perfect thrust. His size is a shock, but the moment of pain when he stretches me only triggers more aftershocks from the orgasm I’m still riding. He goes still above me, letting me adjust, and his eyes never leave mine. His voice is a rough rasp when he says, “Fuck, Luna, so fucking good.”
I moan when he starts to rock his hips in small movements that turn into a gentle roll. It feels amazing but my greedy body wants so much more. I dig my nails into his back and my heels into his ass and lift my hips to make that roll harder, deeper.
“Mars, Mars… please… I need more!”
With a savage snarl, he pulls almost all the way out of me and then slams back in, hard and deep. My back bows off the bed as a sob of pleasure tears from my throat and then we start to move together like we were built for this, like we were made for each other. I cling to him, nails digging into his shoulders as he fucks me slow and deep, whispering how beautiful I am, how much he wants me, how he’s never letting me go again. I cry his name when the next orgasm hits and he growls mine as he follows me over. Jesus, this, this is what it’s meant to feel like. I drop bonelessly back on the bed and he hovers over me, stroking my skin with long, deliberate caresses as he stares into my eyes and then finally settles down beside me and gathers me close.
"I want to get a place here together next year when we come back," he murmurs into my hair. "Somewhere just for us. I want you to be my home, Little Moon. I’ll be the man you deserve, Luna. I promise, I’ll give you everything."
We fall asleep tangled up, his arm slung over my waist, his breath warm against my neck and in this moment, I believe him.
The loud bang of a door upstairs shatters the memory like glass. I jolt, breath catching in my throat as my body trembles. That sound—it echoes too close to the stairwell door at the hospital the night I lost my family. The last time I saw him. The night he left me and vanished when I needed him the most. Anger roars up, slamming into my chest like a freight train. How fucking dare he?
His thumbs brush lightly against my skin, grounding and intimate, and it makes me flinch back. He doesn’t get to fucking touch me. I slap his hands away, teeth gritted in a silent snarl.
Outside the dark space, soldiers’ voices grow louder. Boots scrape over the steps. We’re trapped in here together and I have nowhere to run, no way to escape him. So I’m forced to stand stiff, back against the paneling, glaring at him in the dim light.
Those gorgeous grey eyes of his staring back into mine are filled with regret and pain is etched into every line of his face. But I don’t care. Not right now. He left me when I needed him most. When I could barely fucking breathe from the grief.
And now he’s here?
Too fucking late.
Chapter 69 - Torrin
I stay frozen under the motorcoach, gravel biting into my forearms, dirt pressed to my cheek. My heartbeat is loud as hell in my ears and the boots crunching on the road near me are way too close. Mars rolled out five minutes ago, the stubborn bastard. I tried to get him back, but he didn’t listen. Of course he didn’t. Just like he didn’t listen when we all begged him to call us back and explain why he took off. And now here we are, crawling around in the dirt like rats while British-accented assholes roam our street with guns.
I want to punch something. Preferably, my father, assuming I’m right about who’s behind this fucking invasion. It has to be him. There are too many signs that these are his men who he’s always ruled with an iron fist, just like he ruled over my mom and me. He always was the opportunistic kind, waiting for a disaster to sweep in and claim power like a damn vulture would be perfectly in his playbook and would stroke his ego, verifying that he’s better than everyone else.
But Luna. Fuck. I close my eyes, swallow down the fear clawing at my insides. She’s in that house. If they find her… No. I’m not letting that happen.
I slide out from under the RV again, my body stiff and filthy, and sprint low to the garage door. My key slides in, smooth and quiet, thank fuck I thought to grab them when we ditched the truck. The lock clicks, and I ease the door open just enough to slip inside. My breath hitches as I press it closed again. The garage is dim with just a little bit of light coming from the narrow windows on the overhead door, but it’s enough to see the stacks of boxed groceries that have been piled everywhere. I have no idea why the garage now looks like a food warehouse, but it’s not important right now. I slip my shoes off to quiet my steps and pad through the garage to the house door, crack it open, and slip into the hallway.
