Page 68 of Rook

“Tell me,” she whispers, curiosity threading through the exhaustion. “How would you have wanted it?”

And damn, if those words don’t open the floodgates. I lay it out bare for her, the dream of what could’ve been—a fantasy scrawled in charcoal and hope on the back of my eyelids.

“Somewhere quiet,” I start, tracing patterns on her palm with my thumb. “Just us, no complications, no past haunting our steps. Some place where the city can’t touch us, where it’s just the sound of our breaths and the rustle of leaves.”

“Would it be beautiful?” She’s leaning into every word, drinking them in like the finest whiskey.

“Beautiful doesn’t even start to cover it,” I say, and mean every syllable.

I lean in, pressing my lips to the tender stretch of her neck, feeling the pulse beneath her skin as I lay her back against the plush cushions. My mouth trails a path of soft kisses, each one an apology, a vow, a glimpse of that unspoiled world in my head. “Celestial Hills,” I breathe out, words dancing across her skin. “There’s this spot, perfect for watching the sun die in a blaze of glory.”

“Sunset?” Her voice teases, a smirk on her lips even as she takes me into her arms. “A little cliché, isn’t it?”

“I think we’ve earned clichés,” I chuckle. “We’d watch the sky bleed into a thousand colors, all melting together.” My lips find the top of her breast, pausing there as I share the secret dream. “We’d trip acid, let the world warp into something miraculous, just for us.”

Her chest rises and falls more rapidly now, her heart a thrumming bird against my mouth. “And then?” There’s a catch in her voice, like she’s falling into the fantasy too.

“Then we’d go back to the old church,” I continue, the vision so vivid I can almost see the stained-glass windows come alive in her eyes. “And I’d paint you, Ais. Every inch, like you’re part of the art itself. Undress you and put my mark on you.”

I don’t wait for her response before taking her nipple into my mouth, sucking gently, savoring the taste of her as if she’s the masterpiece I’ve always yearned to create. Her back arches slightly, a silent plea, a canvas begging for the stroke of a brush.

“Fuck, Luka,” Aisling groans as I worship her with my mouth, and it’s music, the kind that pulls at the darkest parts of me. “That’s when you’d do this? Taste me like I’m your religion?”

“Exactly like this.” My words are a rough murmur against her skin. “Lick you, touch you until you’re trembling under my hands.”

She breathes out heavy, her scent wrapping around me, intoxicating, seductive. It’s a battle not to lose myself in her, to forget the past that haunts us both. But I grit my teeth, determined. Not this time.

“Please, Luka.” Her plea is raw, her heat enveloping us like a storm. “I need… I can’t wait…”

“Shh, baby, we’ve got time.” Insisting on patience feels like trying to hold back the tide, but I won’t rush this. Won’t let her heat dictate us. Not now.

I lower my face between her legs, the place where desire blooms hot and heavy. Her perfume is there, a blend of her own sweet scent mixed with traces of Gunnar, Oberon, and me—a tangled web of us. My pack, together where we belong.

“Right here, Stargazer,” I say, and my voice is a growl swallowed by the warm, humid air of the spa. “I’m not going nowhere.”

Her fingers tangle in my hair, a lifeline as she rides the waves I send crashing into her. She’s all soft moans and sharp gasps, and every sound she makes is a bullet to my resolve.

I focus on her, playing her body like it’s my favorite damn instrument. My mouth sucks her clit, and she bucks against me, the nest becoming our world. Then three fingers dive into her, thrusting with a rhythm that matches the pounding in my veins. Her walls clench around my fingers, and I swear I can feel every damn heartbeat.

She’s begging now, words spilling from kiss-bruised lips. “Luka…I want this, I need you—“

“Fuck,” I mutter, because those words—they’re a trigger, pulling me back to a place where we were different people, where no meant stop and everything was pain and confusion.

But she’s not that Aisling now, and I’m not that monster.

“Look at me, Ais.” I climb her body, pressing kisses into her skin like they’re stamps of a new promise. “This time, it’s right. You feel it?”

“God, yes.” Her arms wrap around me, desperation in her grip. “Don’t stop.”

I don’t. Her lips find mine, and it’s like a damn dam breaks between us. Her kiss is fierce, demanding, wiping every awful memory from New Eden clean. I press into her, slow at first, feeling every inch of resistance give way until she’s accepting me completely—a soft sigh breaking the kiss.

“Slow…I’ve got you,” I whisper against her lips, my movements gentle, nothing like the frenzied man I was on that fucked up island.

“More, Luka…please.” The plea in her voice wraps around my heart.

We find a rhythm that’s all push and pull, give and take. My hands roam over her, memorizing the curves that the low light from the annex bathes in shadows. She whispers love like it’s a secret meant only for the dead of night, and I whisper it back because it’s the most honest thing we’ve got in this mess.

Her fingers dig into my back, nails leaving stories I’ll carry with me. “Missed you so much…” Her words are breathless, lost between the sounds of skin meeting skin.

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