Chapter 75 Claiming
LUCA
“I’m not going anywhere,” Arya murmured. “I promise.”
“You can’t promise that. Life is unpredictable. Especially the life we’re living.” My arms tightened around her. “But I need you to know that I will do anything to keep you alive. Anything. Even things that would make you hate me.”
“Like what?”
“Like locking you away if I think you’re in danger, making decisions for you that I know you won’t agree with. Becoming the villain you fight against if it means keeping you safe.” I pulled back to look at her. “I’m not a good man, Aeliana. I’m ruthless and capable of terrible things. The only reason I haven’t done them is because I had nothing worth being terrible for.”
“And now?”
“Now I have you. And I’d burn the world to keep you safe. Would become the monster everyone fears. Would cross every line I’ve ever drawn.” I cupped her face. “And the truly terrifying part? I don’t feel guilty about it. Not even a little.”
She should have been frightened. Should have pulled away, realized she’d bonded herself to something dangerous.
Instead, she kissed me.
Deep, claiming, absolutely devastating.
“Then we’re matched,” she said against my lips. “Because I’d do terrible things for you too. I just haven’t had the chance yet.”
“Don’t tempt me to put you in situations where you would.” I growled playfully, pulling her impossibly closer.
“Too late. The summit is in six days. I’m going to be in plenty of danger then.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“We should probably discuss security—”
“Later. Right now, I need—” I couldn’t articulate what I needed. Couldn’t put into words the desperate, clawing need to confirm she was real and alive and mine.
But she understood. She was connected to me in ways that the human mind couldn’t comprehend.
“Show me,” she whispered. “Whatever you need. Take it.”
Permission granted, my control snapped.
I kissed her with bruising intensity, my hands already working on removing her clothes. The soft nightgown she wore tore under my fingers, fabric giving way to desperate need.
“Luca—”
“Mine,” I growled against her skin. “You’re mine and you’re alive and I need to prove it to myself.”
I kissed every inch of exposed skin, checking for injuries even though I knew there were none. My mouth traveled down her neck, across her collarbone, between her breasts. Each touch was worship and claim in equal measure.
When I reached her thighs, I spread them roughly, needing to taste her. Needing to make her come undone just to hear her voice crying my name.
“Wait—” she gasped. “I’m still recovering—”
“I’ll be gentle.” I couldn’t hold back.
My mouth found her core, and I devoured her like a starving man. Tongue, lips, teeth, everything focused on driving her higher. She tried to protest, said something about being too sensitive, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop, not when she was raising her hips to meet each thrust of my fingers and tongue.
I sucked her clit into my mouth and groaned when she cried out my name. Her fingers tightened in my hair.
“I–more,” she pleaded. “I’m so close.”
She came within minutes, her back arching off the bed, screaming and chanting my name a prayer on her lips.
It was perfect. Watching her back arch in pleasure. As much as i loved thr sight of watching her coming undone on my tongue, it was not enough to sate my monter’s need.
I worked her through the first orgasm and into a second, then a third. By the time I finally pulled back, she was shaking, incoherent, absolutely wrecked.
“Luca, please—I can’t—”
“You can and you will.” I moved up her body, positioning myself at her entrance. “I need to be inside you. I need to feel you around me to know you’re real.”
“I’m real. I’m here. I’m yours.”
Those last two words broke whatever remaining control I had.
I thrust in hard, seating myself fully in one stroke. We both groaned from the overwhelming sensation of being home.
“Fuck,” I breathed. “So perfect. Always so perfect.”
I set a brutal pace, each thrust deep and claiming. My hands gripped her hips hard enough to bruise, and some distant part of me knew I should be gentler, should remember she was still recovering.
The fear was still too raw. The memory of almost losing her is too fresh.
“Say it,” I demanded. “Say you’re mine.”
“Yours,” she gasped. “I’m all yours.”
“Forever.”
“Forever.”
“Promise me. Even if it’s a lie. Promise me forever.”
“I promise.” Her nails raked down my back. “Forever, Luca. I’m yours forever.”
Her words were everything.
I came with a roar, spilling inside her while she clenched around me, both of us riding out waves of pleasure so intense it was almost painful.
After, I collapsed beside her, pulling her against my chest. My heart was racing, my breathing ragged.
“That was…” She trailed off, searching for words.
“Intense. Possessive. Probably concerning.”
“I was going to say perfect.” She pressed a kiss to my chest, laughing through heavy breaths. “But yes, also all those other things.”
“I’m not sorry.”
“I didn’t ask you to be.” She propped herself up on one elbow, looking down at me. “Luca, I need you to hear this. Really hear it.”
“I’m listening.”
“I know you’re afraid. I know you’re struggling with the fact that I’m mortal and you’re not. I know you’re terrified of losing me.” Her hand found my face. “But you can’t let that fear control you. And you can’t let it make you cage me.”
“I’m trying not to.”
“I know. And I appreciate it. But after today, after feeling what you felt through the bond—” She paused. “You’re getting worse, not better. The fear is eating you alive.”
She wasn’t wrong.
“I don’t know how to stop it,” I admitted. “Every time you’re out of my sight, I imagine worst-case scenarios. Every time you face danger, I’m seconds from doing something extreme. And it’s only going to get worse as the summit approaches.”
“Then we need rules.”
“Rules?”
“Boundaries. Things you’re allowed to worry about versus things you need to let go.” She was serious, her tone firm. “Because Luca, I love you. But I can’t live in a golden cage, no matter how much you love me.”
“What kind of rules?”
“You can worry about me during actual dangerous situations. You can insist on security measures. You can even be annoyingly overprotective in those moments.” She held up a finger. “But you can’t lock me away. You can’t make decisions for me or let your fear dictate my choices.”
“And if I can’t agree to that?”
“Then we have a problem.” Her eyes were sad but resolute. “Because I didn’t escape one controlling relationship to end up in another, even if this one comes from love instead of indifference.”
Her words hit like a physical blow. I wanted to be nothing like her fucking ex.
She was right. I was becoming controlling, possessive to the point of suffocation. And if I didn’t stop, if I didn’t find a way to channel this fear into something healthier.