CHAPTER 99

DON'T HOLD BACK...

The house had gone quiet by the time Luke returned that night. Abigail was in their room, seated at the edge of the bed in a silk slip the color of ivory, her hair loose around her shoulders. She hadn’t planned on waiting for him he had told her not to but her body and her heart refused to sleep without him.

The door opened, and she felt the shift in the air before she saw him. Luke walked in, tall and composed, his black shirt unbuttoned at the top, sleeves rolled to his elbows. He didn’t speak at first; his eyes simply found her, lingering with the kind of intensity that made her skin prickle.

“You’re awake,” he said finally, his voice low, carrying the faint rasp of exhaustion.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted, her fingers nervously playing with the hem of her slip. “Not without you.”

His lips curved, not into a smile, but into something darker, hungrier. He closed the door behind him and began crossing the room with slow, measured steps. The sound of his shoes on the floor was the only noise in the vast silence.

“And what did you think would happen if you waited?” he asked, his gaze burning into her as he shrugged off his shirt, revealing the sculpted strength of his chest.

Her breath caught. “That you’d come to me.”

“And if I didn’t?” He was standing before her now, towering over her seated form, his hand coming down to tilt her chin upward. “Would you still wait, Abigail?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Always.”

Something flared in his eyes at her answer, a raw need mingled with the shadow of possession. Without another word, he leaned down, his mouth claiming hers in a kiss that was not gentle, not restrained it was consuming. His lips crushed against hers, his tongue pushing past the seam of her mouth, demanding she give him everything.

Abigail gasped, but she gave in, melting under the force of him. Her hands clutched his shoulders, nails digging into hard muscle as his kiss deepened, hotter, hungrier.

When he pulled back, his breathing was rough, his forehead pressed to hers. “You drive me insane,” he muttered, his voice husky, strained. “Every time I try to stay away, every time I tell myself to hold back you undo me.”

Her heart thundered. “Then don’t hold back. Not tonight.”

His answering growl was low, primal, vibrating against her lips as he kissed her again. This time he lifted her easily, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her back onto the bed. She gasped when her back hit the sheets, and his weight settled over her, solid and unyielding.

Luke’s mouth moved down her throat, teeth scraping lightly before his tongue soothed the sting. Her body arched under him, heat pooling between her thighs as his hands roamed over her slip, tugging at the delicate straps until the silk slid down, baring her breasts to his gaze.

“Beautiful,” he rasped, his thumb brushing across a peaked nipple. “Mine.”

The word made her tremble, her head tipping back as his mouth closed around her breast, sucking, biting lightly until she cried out. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as he teased her mercilessly, shifting from one breast to the other, drawing shivers from her with every flick of his tongue.

“Luke ” she moaned, but he silenced her with another bruising kiss. His hands moved lower, slipping beneath the thin silk that still covered her hips. With one sharp tug, he tore the slip away completely, leaving her bare beneath him.

Abigail flushed under his gaze, but he didn’t give her time to cover herself. His hands slid down, fingers parting her thighs, exposing her. She gasped when his fingers brushed over her slick folds, teasing, stroking with agonizing slowness.

“You’re already wet,” he murmured, his eyes locked on hers as his fingers toyed with her. “Were you waiting for me like this? Needy? Desperate?”

Her cheeks burned, but she nodded, unable to lie. “Yes.”

His smirk was wicked. “Good.”

Two fingers slid inside her, filling her with a sudden stretch that made her moan, her body clenching around him. He moved them slowly, deliberately, curling them just right until her hips bucked against his hand. His thumb pressed against her clit, circling, stroking, driving her higher.

“Luke….please” she begged, her voice breaking as the pleasure built.

“Not yet,” he growled against her lips. “You’ll come when I say. Only then.”

Her body writhed under his command, torn between the sweet torture of his pace and the desperate need to shatter. He teased her mercilessly, bringing her to the edge and pulling her back, until tears pricked her eyes from the intensity.

Finally, when she was nearly sobbing, he withdrew his fingers, licking them slowly in front of her. Her breath caught at the sight, her body trembling with desire.

“Now,” he said darkly, unbuckling his pants and freeing his thick length. Her eyes widened, her body instinctively tightening in anticipation as he positioned himself between her thighs.

“You’re mine, Abigail. Say it.”

“I’m yours,” she whispered.

“Again,” he demanded, pressing against her entrance.

“I’m yours, Luke. Always.”

With a groan, he thrust into her, stretching her walls around him in one deep, claiming stroke. She cried out, clutching at him as her body adjusted to the fullness, the intensity of him filling her completely.

He didn’t give her time to breathe. His hips pulled back and slammed forward again, setting a relentless pace that drove the air from her lungs. Every thrust was deep, hard, purposeful, his gaze locked on her face as though daring her to look away.

“Don’t close your eyes,” he growled, gripping her wrists and pinning them above her head. “Look at me when I take you.”

She obeyed, tears spilling from the corners of her eyes, not from pain but from the overwhelming force of it the way he filled her, the way he consumed her.

The bed rocked with his pace, the sound of skin against skin filling the room along with her cries and his ragged groans. Sweat beaded on his skin, his muscles flexing as he drove into her again and again, his jaw tight with restraint.

“Luke…I’m close please” she sobbed, her body trembling violently under him.

His grip tightened on her wrists, his thrusts harder, faster. “Come for me now.”

The command broke her. She shattered around him, her body convulsing as waves of pleasure ripped through her. She cried his name, her walls tightening around him in desperate pulses.

With a growl, Luke buried himself deep, holding her tight as his own release overtook him. His body shuddered, spilling into her as he pressed his face against her neck, his breathing harsh, uneven.

For long moments, neither of them moved, locked together, their bodies trembling in the aftermath. His weight pressed her into the mattress, grounding her, owning her.

Finally, he lifted his head, his gaze softened but still fierce. He brushed a strand of hair from her damp face, his thumb caressing her cheek.

“You’re mine,” he whispered again, this time not as a command but as a vow.

Abigail’s lips trembled into a smile. “And you’re mine.”

For the first time that night, his mouth curved into the faintest trace of a smile. He kissed her softly, tenderly, before collapsing beside her, pulling her against his chest.

And in the quiet of the night, their breathing steadying together, Abigail felt it the truth beneath his dominance, beneath his walls. He might never say it outright, but his body, his touch, his raw need for her spoke louder than words.

Luke Vandell loved her.

And she belonged entirely to him.