Page 129 of Knot So Lucky
Burst Of Heat Part IV
~AURORA~
Ibreak the surface slowly, my skin still flushed with fever’s fierce glow, and at last…I feel lighter. The worst of the blaze has fallen away into smoldering embers, leaving my chest humming with a dull, rhythmic ache.
The edges of my pain have softened, as if I’m rounding the final curves of a scorching racetrack and already glimpse the black-and-white banner shimmering in the heat haze.
They’re all here.
Adrian waits at the foot of the bed like a gentle sunrise, an ember of warmth at the periphery of my vision. His fingers rest lightly on my ankle, thumb tracing reassuring circles that speak in silent syllables:breathe, you’re safe.
Elias leans against the doorframe, shoulders angled just so, that crooked half-smile of his hiding every secret. His dark eyes glint, and in the hush I almost hear the steady thrum of his pulse.
Then there’s Luca—he stands poised like storm clouds gathered low across a thunder-split horizon. His smirk is aloaded pistol, his shoulders relaxed but braced for impact, every line of his body carved for velocity and sin.
We both know he’s already tasted me, but the way his gaze drifts over every curve of my form now—like he’s unraveling a riddle he can’t quite solve—sparks electricity in the charged air.
“Enjoying the view?” I murmur, my voice a rough thread of silk. His lips twitch upward.
“Enjoying the torture,” he replies, dragging his knuckles slowly along the carved wood of the bedpost, each scraped ridge echoing in the quiet. “I watched you burn all night and only got a taste. Can’t decide if I should thank you or break something.”
A taut current hums between him and Cale—Cale at my back, one broad, warm palm pressed to my hip. His scent is cedar smoked over blacktop, protective without suffocating, claiming without cage. I lift my chin toward Luca.
“Careful. You’re giving off real loser-Alpha energy right now.”
The crack hits his jaw like a challenge thrown down. His eyes darken to polished obsidian, lit by equal parts heat and dare. “A loser who’s about to make you scream,” he growls, low and textured, the timbre threading through me.
I reach for him—he’s already leaning in.
Our kiss is a collision: teeth scrape, breath churns, his stubble grazing my skin like sparks on steel. He bites my bottom lip and I clamp down on his, not flinching but matching force for force. He rumbles against my mouth, impatience pulsing through his veins, then he sweeps me beneath him in one fluid motion. His thigh presses my knee apart; his body curves over mine as he sinks into me with a single, fierce thrust that reverberates through every nerve ending.
I gasp—not from shock, but from the stark contrast. Adrian’s touch had been a feathered hush; Luca’s is whip-smart ferocity.
He anchors himself on either side of my head, forearms coiling with tension, and drives into me as though he means to rewrite my memory with each hard, beautiful stroke.
“Look at me,” he demands, and I obey, meeting his storm-dark gaze. Sweat beads at his temple, his lips parted in a curse, control worn thin like prized leather.
“Harder,” I whisper, and his answer tears from him—a sound half-laugh, half-curse.
Each thrust is deep, punishing in all the ways I crave, pleasure skirting pain until they merge into a bitter-sweet release. My nails rake across his back, digging into muscle so taut it hums under my touch. His name rips free from my lips—raw, ragged, both wrong and so right. He kisses me between ragged breaths, murmuring filthy prayers as he fucks me, wanting to leave echoes in the bedposts, the sheets, my bones.
“Mine,” he snarls against my mouth.
“Ours,” I counter, and the word lights a flare in his eyes—a wild, unwritten promise.
The wire of tension tightens again. I feel Cale shifting closer, drawn in like metal to a magnet. Elias stands deathly still. Adrian’s thumb pulses at my ankle then resumes its steady, soothing spin.
Luca’s rhythm stutters; he’s on the brink. His groan rattles my spine, then he pulls free with a ragged curse, leaving us both trembling.
“Move,” Cale’s voice cuts through, simple and iron.
In the next heartbeat, he’s behind me—arm sweeping under my middle, the other guiding me up onto my knees. His heat melds to mine, body flush to back, and Luca’s hands settle on my thighs to hold me open, gaze locked on me like a challenge.
“You good?” Cale murmurs into my ear, his breath a warm tide.
I turn my head so my lips brush his jaw. “I’m perfect.”
He exhales, a rough rasp that sends shivers down my spine. Then he presses in slow, patient, until the burn of stretching blooms into a fullness that pushes outward and fills me. With his hands on my hips, he sets a steady, resonant pace that matches the drumbeat in my chest. Without thinking, I reach for Luca again—palms to his shoulders, forehead pressed to his. For a moment, we form a living circuit of heat and friction.
