Abandoned Luna Now Untouchable (Cecilia) novel Chapter 227

Cecilia’s pov

The thought was still hanging there, a ghost in the room, when he murmured, “Still thinking?”

I knew the right answer. The safe one. No.

But my body wasn’t listening to any of that logic.

It was too busy reacting to him, to how he smelled like spice and a coming storm–something addictive and outright dangerous.

His presence alone scattered my thoughts. Fuck it.

“Lock the door,” I whispered, the words out before I could catch them.

The deadbolt clicked into place, a sound of pure finality.

Then his mouth was on mine, and every thought burned up in the heat.

The kiss was hungry, urgent, a collision of need that left no room for second-guessing.

My arms wound around his neck, pulling him closer, feeling the hard Lines of his body through his clothes.

In the middle of it, that old, primal craving rose in the back of my throat.

I broke the kiss, my lips finding the corded line of his neck.

I nipped at the skin, not hard, but with definite intent.

“Easy, Cecilia,” he rumbled, his voice already rough. He knew this habit of mine.

I didn’t listen. I bit down on his chest next, the cotton of his shirt between my teeth. “I just want to bite you,” 1 muttered against the fabric.

His hands slid down my back, tracing the curve of my spine, making me shiver. “If you kill me, who’s going to keep you satisfied?”

“You’re basically an incubus,” | said, my fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. “A supernatural sex demon. You’ll survive.”

He caught my chin, tilting my face up to meet his gaze.

His eyes were dark, serious. “Then would you let this incubus stay… forever?”

I saw it then, a flicker in his eyes. Hope. Fragile, like a pilot light just sparked back to life. didn’t answer.

Instead, I crushed my mouth to his, swallowing any more questions.

He sighed into the kiss, a deep, quiet sound that held everything we never said. Then he took over, his kiss turning deeper, more consuming.

My knees gave out, but he caught me effortlessly, one arm hooking under my legs, the other supporting my back.

He carried me toward the bathroom without breaking the kiss.

He set me down on the cold countertop, the marble biting into my thighs. His hands pushed my shirt up and over my head, his mouth Leaving mine to trail down my throat, to my tits.

He took a nipple into his mouth, sucking hard through the lace of my bra until gasped, my back arching.

I got his shirt fully open, pushing it off his shoulders, my nails scraping down the planes of his chest.

He unzipped my pants, yanking them and my panties down my legs in one rough, impatient move.

His fingers slid right into my pussy, finding me wet and ready.

“Always so fucking ready for me,” he growled, working two fingers inside me, his thumb circling my clit.

I cried out, my head falling back against the mirror. “Just fuck me already. Stop teasing.”

He didn’t need telling twice. He freed his cock, thick and hard, and pushed my thighs wider.

He drove into me with one deep, claiming stroke, filling me completely, punching the air from my lungs.

He set a brutal, immediate pace, each thrust slamming me back against the mirror.

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