Page 66 of Map of Pain
Luka didn’t sign. He just looked at Nick’s hand and bit down on his lower lip, a single fang piercing the plush skin. A perfect, ruby bead of blood welled up, mixing with the moisture on his lips. Without breaking eye contact, Luka ran his thumb over the bead of blood and then slicked it down the length of his erection, a glistening mix of saliva and blood and precum.
The sight broke something loose inside Nick.
He launched himself forward, straddling Luka’s thighs, their mouths smashing together again. Hewasa mess of frantic heat and stifled moans, his clothes a suffocating cage. When Luka’s cock, slick and hot, pressed against his stomach through the thin fabric of his shirt, Nick couldn’t take it anymore. He gasped into Luka’s mouth,“Touch me. Please.”
Luka grabbed Nick’s hand, guiding both their fingers into his mouth and sucking on them insistently, letting saliva and blood from his pierced lip drip down to slick his palm. Nick watched with heavy-lidded eyes as Luka’s hand disappeared beneath his waist band, the direct contact—Luka’s skin on his—wasan electric shock. Nick’s vision blurred.
“Clothes… mostly on… please…”Nick managed to choke out, needing the friction, the desperation of it all.
Luka pulled one of Nick’s legs free from his pants, exposing him, pushing their hips together. Now itwasskin against skin. The contactwasso explosive it drew a loud, wrecked sound from Luka’s throat, and Nick knew, he knew hehadto hear that sound again. He shifted, grinding, letting Luka set a frantic pace thathadhim spiraling, incoherence clawing at the edges of his mind.
“Fuck… Luka, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”he moaned, apology and praise and desperation all tangled together.
Luka didn’t stop. He leaned up, his broken, precious voice a pant in Nick’s ear,“Nick.”
Then came the final blow, a breathy, needy plea that obliterated him.“Nick. L-let me c-um.”
Itwaspermission. An offering. An act of trust.
“Yes, please—I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—”Nick gasped, and they fell over the edge together, a tangle of sweat and sensation and overwhelming, soul-shattering feeling. They cried out, a mess of ruined sounds and shuddering bodies as pleasure crashed into them.
Afterward, he lay breathing hard, tangled and slick with sweat, the air thick with their scent. Nick’s mindwasblissfully empty. The freedom felt—the power to take and the grace to be wanted—was overwhelming. Lying there, half-dressed and wrapped around the one being hewastrainedto destroy, Nick felt safer than hehadin his entire life.
Chapter twenty-six
A blood bag with a bendy straw...`
Luka
Movement pulled Luka from deep sleep—the first genuine rest he managed since finding Nick bleeding in that junkyard. He heard shifting fabric, the soft exhale of someone settling deeper into slumber.Nick moving in his sleep,his drowsy mind supplied, and contentment purred through his chest.
The scent that lulled him to sleep remained unchanged: Nick’s floral notes mixed with the lingering warmth of their intimacy. His beast stretched lazily, satisfied beyond measure.Ours. Protected. Fed. Content.
But when Luka cracked his eyes open, expecting to see the top of Nick’s head tucked beneath his chin, he found himself staring at Ophelia Graves instead.
She crouched barely three feet away on Nick’s side of their nest, perfectly balanced on the balls of her feet like some sort of predatory bird. In her hands, she held a blood bag with a bendy straw poking out the top—presented like a child’s juicebox. Her dark eyes squinted at him with the concentrated focus of someone solving a particularly irritating puzzle.
“This sleeping arrangement,”she said in her flat, high-pitched voice,“is not what I learned about in health class back in high school.”
Luka blinked slowly, his mind catching up with the surreal image. In his arms, Nick remained deeply asleep, cradled against Luka’s chest, breath even and warm where his head rested in the curve of Luka’s shoulder. Looking down at their positioning, Luka could see whatcaught Ophelia’s attention: Nickwasclothed, having pulled his pants back on, while Luka remained nude beneath the thin sheet thathadslippeddown to his waist.
«Quiet,»he said, though his movements remained gentle to avoid disturbing Nick.
Ophelia held up the blood bag in response, waggling it at him.“Brought you breakfast.”
Nick stirred as the security of Luka’s embrace disappeared, but settled back into sleep when Luka’s hand briefly smoothed over his hair. The sight made something tender twist in Luka’s chest—even unconscious, Nick sought comfort and warmth rather than defensiveness.
Luka made no effort to hide his nudity as he stood. He simply didn’t care about such things, and Ophelia’s expression didn’t shift at all—shewasrarely scandalized by anything.
He accepted the blood bag with a grateful nod, then padded to where his clothes lay scattered across the floor. As he bent to retrieve his jeans, he gestured for Ophelia to follow him into the hallway.
She lingered instead, her unsettling gaze fixed on Nick’s sleeping form.“I can’t believe someone who looks that patheticwaswith the Daylight Society.”
The words carried her typical monotone delivery, but Luka caught the genuine confusion underneath. She reached toward Nick’s arm where a scar peeked out from beneath his sleeve, curiosity overriding consideration.
Luka’s hand shot out, catching her wrist before she could make contact. He gave her a look that conveyed volumes:Don’t. Touch. Him.
Something flashed across Ophelia’s blank features—not quite shame, but close enough to pass for it in her emotional vocabulary. She gave a single, sharp nod of understanding and followed him from the room.
