Pursuing My Rejected Luna by Cara Anderson novel Chapter 147

Chapter 147

Nicolai

Alone in my office is where I do my best thinking. I should be working. But more and more, the work doesn’t hold my attention the way it used to.

Today, I find myself thinking about when I first wanted Skye. Not recently. It was much further back than that

We knew each other as children-our fathers’ alliance brought our families together at gatherings I mostly remember as tedious. Skye was twelve. I was fifteen. She was entirely unimpressed with me, which I found startling at the time, because most people at that age had already learned to perform deference around the Woolf heir.

She hadn’t gotten the memo.

“You’re not as interesting as everyone says,” she told me once, with the devastating honesty of a twelve-year-old. “You just stand there looking serious.”

I’d been startled. Then, within a year, I found it funny, the way she never fed my ego or sugar-coated things for me. Then, years later, she became something else entirely-the girl who saw past whatever performance I’d already started constructing for my future role as the heir to the Woolf family legacy, and found the actual person underneath unremarkable enough to say so.

I’ve wanted her, in some form, for longer than I’ve let myself acknowledge.

Through other relationships-interesting women, beautiful women, complicated women I genuinely cared for as much as I was capable of caring for anyone in those years of my life. Through the years of careful distance once she was Vale’s mate, because she belonged to someone else and I had rules about that, rules I never once considered breaking even when I wanted to.

Now she’s here. In my house. In my bed.

And the depth of what I feel still surprises me-not that I love her, which stopped surprising me months ago, but how completely. I’ve had women who left me satisfied, momentarily. I have never once, before her, felt sated in the way I feel sated now. Never felt full the way I feel full in this specific, complicated, occasionally difficult life.

Skye pokes her head in my office door just as that thought passes through my mind. If I hadn’t already been hard just thinking about her, seeing her beautiful face, free of make-up, her hair piled up in a messy bun with soft tendrils falling free, and her wearing my shirt, so big on her it slides off one shoulder-that would have done the job.

I’m out of my chair and across the floor in two strides. I pull her through the door and cage her against the wall, my body pressed against hers until there’s no space between us. Then I claim her mouth in a savage kiss, kissing her until I’m satisfied I’ll never forget the way she tastes.

She makes the cutest little squeaking sound before it turns to a lust-filled moan. I drink it down, loving the way she responds to me, melts into me, her body telling me she’ll give anything I choose to take.

When we finally break apart, both breathing heavily, Skye pants, “That was-”

“Not over!” I growl, sweeping her into my arms.

I carry her back to my desk and set her on her feet, her back to my chest. My hand comes up to collar her throat and a possessive “mine” escapes before I can stop it.

“I’m going to fuck you now.” I breathe in her ear. “I’m going to bend you over and claim you right here in my

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office, on my desk, make you come so hard the smell of us together will never be gone. Do you understand?”

yes.” She whimpers, but it;s a needy sound, no fear in it.

“Good. Because this is what you do to me. Make me need you so bad I can barely breathe from the ache of it.”

And I’m a man of my word. I push her down until her hard nipples touch the cool surface of my desk and rip through her leggings with both hands. Dirty talk spills from my lips as I free my aching cock and slam into her in one rough thrust.

“Fuck! Nico!” She cries out at the intrusion. But the moment I slide out again, she’s pushing her hip back, trying to make me fill her again.

It doesn’t take long before we’re both cresting the wave, our mutual pleasure crashing over us. It’s fast and filthy, animalistic. It’s exactly what I said it would be. A claiming.

She’s quiet for a moment, and then she does something that undoes me more than the conversation already had- she settles closer, tucks herself against my chest like she’s testing whether I’m telling the truth about wanting her there.

I am. I always will be. Whether she rejects the bond now… or never.

So I can be patient. I am being patient.

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And for the first time in weeks, the wanting under the patience goes quiet too.

Cara Anderson

Author

Thank you for reading!

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