Page 64 of Map of Pain
Footsteps in the hallway made him look up. Luka emerged from the guest room, hair damp from washing up, movingwith careful precision that didn’t quite hide how much effort each movement cost him. In the better lighting, the signswereimpossible to miss: dark circles under those eyes where therehadbeen none before, cheeks that looked slightly more sunken, a tremor in his hands that hewastrying very hard to hide.
Nick nodded, following him down the hallway. The guest room was smaller than the main space, which immediately made his chest feel looser. Lukahadrearrangedthe furniture—pushed the bed against one wall and created a cozy nest on the floor using pillows and blankets.
“Thank you,”Nick said, touched by the fact Lukarecognizedhis need for contained spaces without being asked.
Luka gestured to the clothes Marcus left for them—soft cotton t-shirts and sleep pants, everything in neutral colors that wouldn’t overwhelm. Nick grabbed the same button-down pajama top from the motel, something sentimental about keeping it despite having other options.
Hewasn’ttiredenough to sleep yet, but being in the smaller room made him feel infinitely better than the open expanse of the main penthouse. When Luka started to head back toward the door, Nick caught his wrist.
“Stay,”he said.“I want to talk. About you.”
Luka’s eyebrows rose in question, but he settled onto the floor beside the pillow nest. They sat in comfortable quiet for a few minutes, but the longer the silence stretched, the more Nick couldn’t get the insane idea of asking Luka to bite him out of his head. Or kissing him again.
“Can you help me with the buttons?”Nick asked, gesturing to the pajama top.
Luka nodded and moved closer, fingers working carefully up the shirt. When Luka’s hands reached the third button, Nick noticed the tremor again—subtle but unmistakable.
Nick caught Luka’s wrist gently, stopping him halfway up the shirt.“I know you haven’t fed in a long time.”
His eyes widened in surprise. He made the gesture for big hair, raising his eyebrows questioningly.
“Ophelia told me,”Nick confirmed.
Luka rolled his eyes and grabbed his phone:
Will get a bag soon. Before we meet Vincent.
Before he could lose his nerve, Nick offered his wrist.
The effectwasimmediate. Hunger flashed across Luka’s features, his pupils dilating, fangs pressing against his lips. But he shook his head, even as his body betrayed how desperately he needed what Nick was offering. Instead of answering, Luka traced the bite scars on Nick’s wrist with gentle fingers.
Then Luka bent his head and pressed his lips to the scarred skin, the kiss so soft and reverent it made Nick’s breath catch. When he pulled back, his expressionwasapologetic, almost stricken.
“It’s okay,”Nick said.“You don’t need to apologize.”He paused, heat rising in his cheeks.“I like when you touch me. Sometimes liking it is scary, but... I still like it.”
Luka nodded, understanding flickering across his features. His hands moved in simple gestures that Nick recognized as safe and choice.
Nick took a shaky breath, the honest part of him pushing him toward vulnerability.“I’m curious about…about being bitten by you.”The words came out in a rush.“I’ve only known bites that hurt. Thatweremeantto hurt. I wonder what it would feel like if...”
He trailed off, but Luka seemed to understand. The vampire reached for his phone, typing quickly:
Some people enjoy the sensation. Different for everyone.
Adam + Vincent = earplugs.
Despite his nervousness, Nick huffed a small laugh. His shirt hung open to his sternum, leaving most of his chest exposed. He felt along his skin, searching for a space relatively free from scarring, and settled on the right side of his neck where it curved into his shoulder. He allowed that side of the shirt to slip further off his shoulder and tapped the unmarked skin.
“I want to know what it feels like. With you. Here. This spot doesn’t have...”
Luka scooted closer on the floor until their kneeswerealmost touching. With infinite gentleness, he cupped Nick’s face in both hands.
A strange mix of butterflies and terror fluttered through Nick’s chest as Luka’s cool fingers traced the unmarked skin he indicated, mapping the spot with careful attention.
Luka’s gaze fixed on the area Nick offered, and that look of hunger returned—pupils dilating, a flush creeping across his pale cheeks. Therewassomething unexpectedly attractive about seeing Luka’s careful control fraying at the edges, about being the cause of that hunger.
With shaking hands, Luka reached for his phone:
You say stop, I will stop. If unable to speak, X.
