Luna. Chapter 108

(Lyra's POV)

I stood outside Kael's door for five minutes before I got the courage to knock.

I was just bringing him some clean clothes I'd found in the dryer. That was all.

It had nothing to do with the heat building in my body. Nothing to do with the way my skin felt electric. Nothing to do with the way I couldn't stop thinking about his hands.

Nothing at all.

"Come in," his voice called.

I turned the handle, stepped inside.

And froze.

Kael was standing by the window with his back to me. He was shirtless. Water droplets still clung to his shoulders from his shower.

Every muscle in his back was defined. Perfect. Scarred in a few places from fights I didn't want to think about.

But beautiful.

So beautiful it made my chest ache.

"I brought you some clothes," I managed to say.

He turned around.

Oh God.

His chest was just as perfect as his back. Broad and strong and covered with dark hair that made my fingers itch to touch.

His eyes met mine across the room. Dark. Intense.

Hungry.

"Lyra."

My name on his lips sounded like a prayer.

I took a step forward. Then another.

"You should go," he said quietly.

"Should I?"

"Yes. You're in heat. I can smell it on you."

Heat crept up my neck. "Is that bad?"

"It's dangerous."

"Why?"

"Because I want you so much I can barely breathe. And if you don't leave right now, I'm going to do something we'll both regret."

I dropped the clothes on the dresser. Took another step closer.

"What if I don't want to leave?"

"Lyra..."

"What if I want you to do something we'll both regret?"

His control snapped.

I saw it happen. Saw the exact moment he stopped fighting what we both wanted.

He crossed the room in three long strides. His hands came up to frame my face.

"Are you sure?" he whispered.

Instead of answering, I rose up on my toes and kissed him.

The effect was immediate. Electric.

Four years of wanting. Four years of longing. Four years of telling myself I didn't need him.

All of it poured into that kiss.

His hands tangled in my hair. His mouth moved against mine with desperate hunger.

I'd forgotten how he tasted. Coffee and mint and something uniquely him.

I'd forgotten how perfectly we fit together.

I'd forgotten how right this felt.

"Lyra," he breathed against my lips.

"Don't talk," I whispered back. "Just... don't talk."

He lifted me easily. My legs wrapped around his waist without conscious thought.

He carried me to the bed. Set me down gently.

"I need to know you want this," he said, his voice rough. "Not because you're in heat. Not because your body is demanding it. Because you want it."

I looked into his dark eyes. Saw the love there. The longing. The careful control he was maintaining for my sake.

"I want this," I whispered. "I want you. I've always wanted you."

"Thank God," he breathed.

And then he kissed me again.

This time, neither of us held back.