Flora’s POV
He wasn’t done with me.
And before I could fully process it, his lips were on mine in a fierce, passionate kiss. It wasn’t exactly pleasing; just hungry and demanding. The world around us melted away, and all I could feel was him—his body pressed tightly against mine, his hips driving with relentless power.
A soft moan slipped from me, muffled by his kiss, and he swallowed it greedily. He pulled away just enough to let his lips trail along the corner of my mouth, the featherlight touch sending sparks of electricity through my already tingling body. Then his mouth found my earlobe, his breath hot as he kissed and nibbled at it, almost driving me mad. I couldn’t hold back the sound that tore from my throat—a pleasing moan as my body arched into his.
My arms wrapped around him tightly, fingers clutching at the muscles of his back as I hooked my legs around his waist. The narrative had changed and it seemed I couldn’t get enough of him. If only I knew his name, I could have said it.
“My sweet Dahlia,” he growled softly, the roughness in his voice sending shivers down my spine. He didn’t wait for a response. His hips slammed forward again, and I felt him reach deeper than before. My body, fully open to him now, stretched to accommodate every inch.
“Don’t stop,” I managed to gasp out, my voice barely recognizable. The sound of our bodies moving together, the slap of his skin against mine, the deep grunts from his throat, and my gasps and moans were all I could hear. My head spun with the intensity of it all. My fingers found purchase in his damp hair, pulling him closer as I struggled to stay beneath him.
“You like it?” he asked. “Tell me, how much?”
“So much I don’t want you to stop,” I forced myself to say.
This triggered him to go harder at my peril. It seemed like he was about to burst now. His countenance had changed, and his pace had increased as well. He groaned louder with every thrust and loudest at the point he climaxed, filling me up with his load.
‘Fuck, he had to do that inside of me,’ I muttered within me.
He didn’t care anyway. He was done with me. He stood up without a word, adjusted to the side, and turned his head to the other side. Moments later, his snoring was the second unbearable sound of the night. The first was a continuous mouth-munching in his sleep.
I couldn’t complain. I was too tired to even do so. I laid back, staring at the ceiling, catching my breath. A bedside clock rang out at intervals to signal midnight and those were the last sounds I heard before my eyes closed to sleep.
***
The first thing I noticed when I woke was the silence. No blaring alarms, no rustling leaves, no familiar hum of my old life. Just the rhythmic sound of his breathing beside me, deep and even, filling the quiet room.
I blinked up at the ceiling, my mind thick with sleep, until a flood of images began to fill the blank spaces. Memories—not mine, but Dahlia’s. They came in sharp, vivid fragments, unraveling the life she had lived.
Her laughter at a smoky bar. Her sharp wit won over men but alienated women. The dark, shadowy deals she was tangentially involved in. The endless nights spent trading her body for survival.
And him.
I turned my head, letting my gaze fall on the man still sleeping beside me. His dark hair was mussed, softening the sharp angles of his jaw. In sleep, he looked less intimidating, almost vulnerable. But even now, the latent power in his presence was undeniable. He wasn’t just anyone. He was someone.
The name rose unbidden in my mind: Lucian Valenti.
Mafia boss. Ruthless. Feared. Respected.
And last night, mine.
My cheeks heated at the memory of his rough hands, his demanding touch, and the way my body had betrayed me, responding as though it knew him better than I ever could. I pressed my palms to my face, trying to push the thoughts away, but they clung to me, intimate and unrelenting.
Selene’s words resurfaced, grounding me.
“Live for yourself, Flora. Or Dahlia. Whatever you choose to call yourself now. Use this life as your own, not as a vessel for regrets.”
And then her cryptic parting promise: The full moon will grant you power—either to leave this world or to shape your destiny within it.
I glanced toward the window, where a sliver of morning light streamed through the curtains. The full moon wasn’t for days, but already I could feel its pull, humming faintly in the necklace against my chest.
I traced my fingers over the glowing pendant, its warmth steady and reassuring. Somehow, it held the key to everything. I would need to understand it before I could decide what to do.
A low groan pulled me from my thoughts.
Lucian shifted beside me, his brow furrowing slightly before his eyes opened, dark and intense. For a moment, he simply stared at me, as if weighing his words. Then he reached out, his hand curling around my waist, pulling me closer with an effortless strength that made my breath catch.
“Morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep, yet still commanding.
“Morning,” I replied, my voice unsteady.
His eyes scanned my face, searching for something. “You were different last night.”
I forced a faint smile, unsure of how Dahlia usually acted around him. “Just... tired,” I said, hoping it was vague enough to pass.
Lucian’s lips quirked into a smirk, as though he saw right through me. “Tired? After last night?” He traced a finger down my arm, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake.
I swallowed hard, the memories of the night flashing vividly in my mind.
“You usually aren’t,” he added, his voice dropping to a teasing rumble.
“I—” My words caught in my throat as he shifted, pinning me beneath him in a fluid movement.
His weight pressed me into the mattress, his hands braced on either side of my head. His eyes held mine, dark and unyielding, as if daring me to resist.
“Say it,” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Say you want me.”
I hesitated, my body reacting instinctively even as my mind screamed at me to regain control. But the instincts of this world, this body, were stronger than I’d anticipated. They craved him.
“Lucian...” I whispered, barely audible.
“That’s not an answer,” he growled, his teeth grazing my earlobe, sending a shiver down my spine.