Chapter 180

Katie

I stared at him, searching for any hint of performance, any trace of the manipulation I'd spent so long guarding against. But there was nothing—just raw honesty and surrender and trust so complete it made my chest ache.

I released his jaw and kissed him, slow and deep, trying to pour everything I felt into the gesture. He kissed me back with the same intensity, and I felt the shift between us, the fundamental rebalancing of power that maybe had always been inevitable.

Twenty minutes later, he broke free from the belt—easily, like I knew he could—and practically ran to the bathroom. I heard the shower turn on, water running cold enough that the pipes groaned in protest.

When he finally emerged fifteen minutes later, wrapped in a towel with his hair dripping, his eyes were red-rimmed and there were water tracks on his face I couldn't identify as shower spray or something else.

"Did I hurt you?" I asked, sitting up from where I'd been sprawled on the bed, concern overriding everything else.

He shook his head, not quite meeting my eyes. "No."

"Then why—"

"I was this close," he said roughly, holding up his thumb and forefinger with barely any space between them. "I needed to cool the fuck down before I embarrassed myself."

"Oh." Heat flooded my face as understanding hit. "Lucas—"

He crossed to me and scooped me up, cutting off whatever I'd been about to say. I wrapped my arms around his neck automatically, and he carried me to the bed like I weighed nothing.

"Do you have—" I started, then stopped, suddenly shy.

"Condoms?" He set me down gently. "There's a box in your suitcase. I put it there before we left."

Of course he had. I retrieved it, then stopped when I saw it wasn't just a box. "You packed an entire case?"

His mouth quirked. "Optimistic?"

I pulled out the whole thing—144 count, because apparently Lucas didn't do anything by halves—and set it on the nightstand. He was already at the wall panel, closing the curtains and dimming the lights with a few taps. The click of the door lock was loud in the sudden quiet.

Outside, the waves crashed against the shore, a rhythm that matched my racing pulse. Lucas turned back to me, and the look in his eyes made everything else fade away.

"Come here," he said softly, and I went.

---

The silk dress ended up on the floor within seconds, followed by his shirt, his pants, everything that separated us until there was nothing left but skin and breath and the sound of the ocean beyond the windows. Lucas's hands were everywhere—my waist, my thighs, tangling in my hair—and I matched him touch for touch, learning the planes of his body, the places that made him gasp.

"You sure?" he asked against my mouth, even as his fingers traced patterns that made me arch into him.

"Yes," I said, and pulled him down.

The first time was fast and desperate, all the tension of the past weeks finally breaking. I dug my nails into his shoulders hard enough to leave marks, and he buried his face in my neck, breathing my name like a prayer. When he finally pushed inside me, we both went still for a moment, adjusting, and then he started to move and I stopped thinking altogether.

The second time was slower. Lucas took his time, mapping every inch of me with his mouth, his hands, learning what made me shake. I returned the favor, tracing the scars on his ribs from the accident, the tattoo over his heart I'd never seen before—my initials, I realized with a jolt—kissing every mark until he was the one shaking.

By the third time, we were both exhausted and giddy, laughing between kisses, and when I rolled him onto his back and took control, the look on his face was worth every moment of fear that had brought us here.

Somewhere around dawn, we finally collapsed, sweaty and tangled in sheets that would definitely need to be changed. Lucas pulled me against his chest, his fingers tracing idle patterns on my spine, and I felt the pendant—back around my neck now—press between us.

"You okay?" he murmured into my hair.

"Better than okay," I admitted, too wrung out to lie.

His arms tightened around me. "Good. Because I'm not done with you yet."

I laughed, the sound muffled against his skin. "Give me like... five minutes."

"Take your time," he said, pressing a kiss to my temple. "We have two weeks."

I fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat and the waves outside, more content than I'd been in years.

---

I woke to sunlight streaming through the gauzy curtains and the familiar weight of metal against my skin. My hand went automatically to my throat, finding the pendant still there, then drifted down to my left hand where the ring caught the morning light. I turned it slowly, watching the platinum gleam, tracing the engraved initials inside that I'd memorized the moment Lucas had first slipped it on my finger.

Lucas was already awake, propped on one elbow watching me with an expression I couldn't quite read. When he noticed I was conscious, he reached for the nightstand and picked up a pair of diamond earrings I hadn't seen before.

"I got these too," he said, almost shy. "But then I remembered—"

"I don't have pierced ears," I finished, touching my earlobes.

He laughed, the sound warm and unguarded. "Right. I forgot."

"I could get them pierced," I offered. "If you want."

"No." He set the earrings aside and pulled me closer. "You're perfect exactly as you are."

I looked down at the ring again, at the way it caught the morning light, and realized I'd never actually asked about it beyond the basics. "You never told me the full story behind this," I said, holding up my hand. "Just that it was platinum."

Lucas took my hand in his, bringing it to his lips. "I went to twenty-three auctions to find the right pieces," he said against my skin. "The platinum is from South Africa's Bushveld Complex. Ninety-nine point nine five percent pure."

"That seems excessive."

"The cutting was done by a master craftsman at Chaumet in Paris," he continued, doing that thing where he recited facts when he was nervous. "The engraving is laser micro-etching—I had them scan my handwriting so it would be personal."

I turned in the sheets to face him properly. "You always do this."

"Do what?"

"Take everything to the extreme." But I was smiling, because how could I not? "Most people just buy rings from a jewelry store."

"You're not most people." He pulled me against him, his arms secure around my waist. "You deserve the extreme."

Then I tried to sit up and immediately regretted it. Every muscle in my body protested, and when I caught sight of myself in the mirror across the room, I froze.

"Oh my God."

Lucas followed my gaze and had the audacity to look pleased with himself. "What?"

"What do you mean 'what'?" I gestured at my reflection. "I look like I got mauled."

Hickeys covered my neck in varying shades of purple, some overlapping, some distinct. There were bite marks on my collarbone, my shoulders, my hips. Bruises shaped like fingerprints decorated my thighs. Even my calves had a few marks.

"You did get mauled," Lucas said reasonably, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. "By me."

"Emily's going to call the police."

"Then we'll tell her the truth." He pressed a kiss to one of the marks on my shoulder. "That you wanted this just as much as I did."

I turned in his arms to glare at him, but he was smiling that rare, unguarded smile that made him look twenty-one instead of like someone who'd seen too much too young, and I couldn't hold onto my annoyance.

"You're ridiculous," I said, but I was smiling too.

"You love it."

"Unfortunately." I kissed him, soft and slow, tasting mint from the toothpaste he must have used while I was still asleep. "Come on. I need a bath."

"I'll join you."

---

We settled into the massive tub, me between his legs again, and I let myself relax into the warmth. Lucas picked up my left hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss the ring again.

"So when were you thinking?" I asked, watching the way the water made the platinum shimmer. "For the actual wedding, I mean."

He was quiet for a moment, his thumb tracing circles on my palm. "After graduation," he said finally. "Give us time to do it right. Not some rushed courthouse thing."

"Your family would lose their minds if we eloped."

"Fuck them." But there was no heat in it. "Though Andrew would probably appreciate being included."

I laughed, picturing Lucas's brother's reaction. "He'd insist on being best man."

"Obviously." Lucas pressed a kiss to my shoulder. "What about you? What do you want?"

I thought about it, turning the ring on my finger. "Something small," I said eventually. "Just people we actually care about. None of that society wedding bullshit."

"Deal." His arms tightened around me. "We could do it in Montana. At the farm."

The image hit me suddenly—standing in Grandpa Jack's training field with Lucas, the mountains in the background, Emily and Tyler and maybe a handful of others watching. Simple. Real. Ours.

"Yeah," I said softly. "I'd like that."

We sat in comfortable silence for a while, and I let myself imagine it—not just the wedding, but everything after. Waking up next to him every morning. Building something together that wasn't just about surviving our families' expectations. Actually being happy.

"Katie Harrison-Winston," Lucas murmured against my ear, testing out the name. "Or do you want to keep your name?"

"Haven't decided yet." I tilted my head back to look at him. "Ask me again after I graduate. When we're not living in a hotel room pretending the outside world doesn't exist."

"Is that what we're doing?"

"Isn't it?" I laced my fingers through his. "Two weeks in paradise before we have to go back to reality."

His arms tightened around me. "Then let's make them count," he said, and kissed the spot behind my ear that made me shiver. "Starting now."

I turned in his arms, water sloshing dangerously close to the tub's edge. "You're insatiable."

"Only with you." He pulled me closer, and I felt him already hardening against me. "Problem?"

"Not even a little bit," I said, and kissed him.