Chapter 12: Ink and Fire

Part 2

Lucas's fingers knotted in her hair, tugging hard enough to draw a sharp gasp from her lips before he crushed his mouth back to hers. This wasn't a kiss—it was a fight. Teeth clashed, tongues tangled, their breaths coming in ragged bursts between fevered bites. Elena arched against him, her nails raking down his back, leaving angry red trails in their wake. She could taste the desperation on his lips, the faint metallic tang of blood where she'd bitten him too hard.

She tore her mouth away, her chest heaving, lips swollen and wet. His dark eyes burned into hers, pupils blown wide with hunger.

"Tell me what you want, Lucas." Her voice was a challenge, low and dangerous.

His grip tightened on her hips, fingers digging into her skin as if he could fuse them together.

"I want to forget," he growled, voice rough as gravel. "I want to feel nothing but you."

A slow, wicked smile curled her lips. She dragged her hand down his chest, lower, lower— until her fingers wrapped around him, hot and hard in her palm. His breath hitched, a muscle ticking in his jaw as she stroked him, slow and deliberate, her thumb swiping over the slickness already beading at the tip.

"Fuck—" His head fell back, a ragged groan tearing from his throat. Every nerve in his body was alight, every touch electric-the scrape of her nails, the way her teeth grazed his collarbone, the intoxicating scent of her skin, salt and jasmine and something darker, something his.

Elena shifted, rising onto her knees, her free hand guiding him to her entrance. She sank down onto him in one slow, torturous roll of her hips, her breath catching as he filled her, inch by excruciating inch. The stretch burned, the pleasure so sharp it bordered on pain, and when she finally took him all the way, they both shuddered, their foreheads pressed together, breathing each other in.

Then she moved.

Her rhythm was relentless, each rise and fall of her hips a calculated torment. Lucas's hands gripped her waist, his fingers leaving bruises as he tried-and failed-to control the pace. She rode him like she was punishing him, like she was punishing herself, her nails biting into his chest, her breath hot against his neck.

"Look at me," she demanded, and when his eyes locked onto hers, she clenched around him, drawing a broken curse from his lips.

He wasn't gentle. He couldn't be. One hand fisted in her hair, yanking her head back as his other hand slid between them, his thumb circling her clit with rough, merciless precision.

Her gasp was sharp, her body bowing against him, her rhythm faltering as pleasure coiled tight in her belly.

"That's it," he rasped against her ear, his voice raw. "Come for me. Let me feel you fall apart."

She shattered with a cry, her body clamping around him like a vise, her fingers clawing at his shoulders as wave after wave of pleasure ripped through her. The sight of her-lips parted, eyes wild, her body trembling with ecstasy-was his undoing. With a final, brutal thrust, he followed her over the edge, his release crashing through him like a storm, white-hot and all-consuming.

For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of their ragged breathing, the slick heat of their bodies still joined, the aftershocks of pleasure still pulsing between them.

Elena slumped against his chest, her fingers tracing the intricate lines of the labyrinth tattooed on his arm-a habit, he'd noticed, when she was trying to ground herself. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer, his lips brushing the damp skin of her shoulder.

Outside, the city pulsed with life-neon lights flickering, distant sirens wailing, the endless hum of a world that never slept. But here, in this dim-lit room, with her body tangled in his, the darkness felt a little quieter.

For now.

To be continued...