There’s not a hint of his alpha bark, his words simply telling me what he needs.
Dropping my head back, I gaze up at his stormy blue eyes.
“Am I supposed to swoon now?” I rasp.
“Nope,” he grunts, his mouth nipping my bottom lip as I gasp. “You scared the fuck out of me. I’m going to have to change my pants.”
A loud laugh escapes me, completely taking me by surprise. Laughter has been slow to happen over the years, as rage typically finds me more often than not. Lucas’ eyes smolder, and I squeeze my thighs together as he shifts my body in his arms sothat he can slant his mouth over mine. His lips are soft and firm, and I melt into his kisses.
Kisses aren't one of my triggers, because in the last five years, I’ve never once been kissed. Not when my mouth has only been a hole for my handlers, and more recently, I haven’t had any reason to kiss anyone.
I didn’t know it could feel like this. Even before Ophelia’s brand of torture, there were only fumbled kisses at parties, and those were nothing to celebrate or write home about.
Lucas growls, unhappy that my thoughts have drifted, so I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him back. His tongue flicks out slowly, carefully, and so fucking patiently. Whimpering, I open my mouth to allow him entrance, working off what feels right.
I refuse to let myself dissociate or overthink if I’m doing this correctly, which means all I can do is follow Lucas’ lead. There is a level of trust that I’m allowing Lucas to see how far he takes things. His body is solid muscle, his arms a cocoon that seems to lock out the rest of the world. His tongue sucks on mine, making me whine as I perfume.
“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs against my lips. “You’re dressed differently today. Is this because you’re staking out my house?”
“The opposite actually,” I breathe. “At first, I wanted to see if I could get close. I am also homeless until later today, so your tree provided the perfect bed.”
“You’re going to break my brain,” Lucas groans. “Please continue.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to put me down?” I squeak out.
“Nope,” he says. “Did you drive or did you hike in?”
“Both,” I reply. “My SUV is hidden in a ditch. Why?”
Turning to face the deeper part of the woods, he shakes his head as if trying to wrap his mind around what I said.
“So you’re on Yalter Street?” he muses, beginning to walk through the woods.
“Ah, yes? What are you doing?” I ask, confused.
“Walking you,” he grunts.
“I thought that typically meant that we would be walking together,” I say. “I haven’t ever had someone walk me anywhere, so maybe I’m confused as to how this works.”
“I think you might be,” Lucas smirks. This alpha is ridiculous. “Now, tell me how I should improve my security while you have me as a captive audience.”
“Revealing your kinks, I see,” I say without thinking.
Lucas barks out a laugh, keeping my body close to his chest.
“Hardly, but I’m a little sad I have to share you now,” he murmurs.
“Sir, is everything alright?” a man in black tactical gear asks, stepping out in front of Lucas.
“Isolde, tell him why I’m unhappy,” Lucas says. “Please feel free to be as blunt as possible.”
“You’re incompetent,” I say immediately. It’s difficult to adopt the correct tone to dress down his men while I’m being cradled like this, but I’ll manage. Lucas has made it clear that he’s pretending that my legs are broken.
“I beg your pardon,” the guard growls.
“How else do you explain my presence? Spoiler, I didn’t enter through the front door. I walked through these woods and no one noticed. Not one video camera picked me up, and every guard patrolling these woods missed me,” I explain.
The guard is six foot two, broad shouldered and clearly a professional. He’s not a made man, but his body’s loose and attentive position makes me believe he may have some type of military experience. Either way, no one enjoys being dressed down.