The Banished Shy Luna Chapter 124

By the time we made it inside the estate, I’d reached my limit.

The storm had followed me in—not the rain, but the noise. It was in my chest, my bones, behind my eyes.

I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to think.

I just wanted to feel clean again.

The mud was drying on my skin, the scent of blood and smoke clinging to me. My head pounded, the ache crawling from my temples down the back of my neck. The tension felt like a chain.

“I’m going to shower,” I said flatly before anyone could start the inevitable questions.

Toren opened his mouth like he wanted to argue, then thought better of it. Tyson just nodded once, eyes tracking me until I disappeared down the hall.

The hot water hissed when I turned it on. Steam filled the bathroom within seconds, fogging the mirror and softening the edges of the world.

I stepped under the spray and let the heat hit me.

It hurt at first—too hot, too sharp—but then it melted everything. The cold, the fear, the anger.

For a long time, I just stood there, breathing.

My thoughts spun like the rain outside, looping over everything that had just happened: Douglas’s vow, the Council’s threat, Lucas’s lies. It was all too much.

I pressed my palms against the tile, letting the water roll down my spine. My body ached. My mind felt heavier than my bones.

I didn’t even hear the door open at first.

The sound of boots, the faint shift in the air—then his voice, low and familiar.

“You should’ve called for me.”

Tyson.

I didn’t turn around right away. “You’d just tell me to rest.”

“I would’ve helped you rest,” he said softly.

When I finally glanced back, he was already shedding his soaked shirt, tossing it aside without a care. He stepped into the steam like he belonged there, his expression caught somewhere between exhaustion and worry.

I wanted to tell him to leave—to give me a moment to breathe—but I didn’t.

I couldn’t.

Because as soon as his arms slid around me from behind, the noise in my head finally went quiet.

Neither of us spoke for a while.

The only sound was water and heartbeats.

He pressed his forehead to the back of my neck, his breath warm against my skin. “You scared the hell out of me,” he murmured. “Running off like that.”

“I know.” My voice came out small. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” he said, his grip tightening. “But next time, make it with us. Don’t carry it alone.”

The warmth of him seeped into me, quieting the last tremors in my body.

When his lips brushed the side of my neck, it wasn’t hunger—it was grounding. A reminder that I was still here, still alive.

I let out a small, involuntary sound—half sigh, half relief—and before I could say anything, he spun me around in his arms.

For a heartbeat, we just stood there, breath mingling, steam curling around us like smoke. His eyes searched mine, that storm-gray color softer than I’d ever seen it.

“Moon,” he whispered, voice rough, “you don’t always have to be strong.”

I felt something in me crack. My hands came up on instinct, pressing against his chest—not to push him away, but to steady myself.

“I don’t know how to stop,” I said quietly.

He smiled—just a little, just enough. “Then let me remind you.”

And he kissed me.

It wasn’t desperate, or wild—it was slow and real and deep enough to make my heart forget its rhythm. His hand came up to cradle my face, his thumb brushing away a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen.

The world outside the shower didn’t exist for a moment. There was no Council, no threat, no storm—just warmth, and the steady beat of something that felt dangerously close to peace.

His mouth claimed mine with a fierce hunger, tongue plunging deep as his body pressed against me, pinning me firmly to the cool tile. The water pounded down, soaking us both, but all I could feel was the heat of him, the way his hard cock nudged insistently against my thigh. My hands instinctively reached for him, but he caught my wrists, slamming them above my head with one strong grip, his other hand sliding down my side to hook under my knee, lifting my leg high.

I gasped into the kiss as he positioned himself, the thick head of his cock teasing my slick entrance. He didn't make me wait— with a low growl, he thrust forward, burying himself deep inside my pussy in one smooth, forceful stroke. The stretch burned so good, filling me up completely, and I moaned loudly, the sound muffled by his unrelenting kiss. He started moving right away, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in, each thrust harder than the last, his hips snapping against mine.

The tension in my shoulders eased with each powerful plunge, replaced by a building ache low in my core. "Fuck, you take me so well," he murmured against my lips, breaking the kiss just long enough to nip at my jaw. His free hand roamed up to cup one breast, thumb flicking over the hardened nipple, pinching just enough to make me whimper.

My body responded on instinct, hips grinding forward to seek friction against his hardness. He growled low in his throat, releasing my wrists only to grip my thigh, hoisting my leg up and around his waist. The position opened me up, my pussy exposed and aching, slick not just from the water but from the heat pooling inside me.

I wrapped my leg tighter around him, nails digging into his shoulders as I clung for purchase, moaning into his mouth with every thrust. The tension headache faded, replaced by the building pressure in my core, my pussy clenching greedily around him. He gripped my ass with both hands now, lifting me higher to change the angle, driving even deeper, his balls slapping against me with wet smacks that echoed over the shower's roar.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he panted, breaking away to bite down on my neck again, sucking a mark into the skin while his hips pistoned faster.