The Professor's Mate Clause novel Chapter 77

CHAPTER 77

ADRIAN’S POV

Emma finally passed out just after midnight, tears still drying on her cheeks. Clara curled up beside her, whispering soft things until the kid’s breathing evened out. The house is quiet now, too quiet, the kind of quiet that presses on your chest after a day soaked in blood and screaming.

I’m standing at the bedroom window, palms flat on the cold glass, staring at nothing. My knuckles are split. My shirt still smell like gunpowder and Lyra’s funeral pyre. I can’t get the image out of my head: her body going limp the second the silver bullet punched through her heart. 2

The door clicks open behind me.

Freya doesn’t speak. She just walks up, slides her arms around my waist from behind, and presses her face between my shoulde blades. I feel her inhale, long and shaky, like she’s trying to breathe me back into myself.

“Emma sleeping?” My voice is gravel.

“Yeah. Clara’s got her.” Her hands slip under my shirt, palms warm against the ridges of my stomach. “Come to bed, Adrian.”

I turn around. She looks wrecked, eyes red-rimmed, hair a wild mess from the fight, but fuck, she’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. My mate. My everything.

“I’m covered in death,” I rasp. “I don’t want to put that on you.”

She steps closer, rises on her toes, and drags her tongue slowly up my throat, tasting sweat and smoke and grief. “Then let me wash it off to death with something alive.” 1

That’s all it takes.

I crash my mouth against hers, hard enough our teeth clack. She moans into it, nails scraping down my back, tearing at my shirt like it personally offends her. Buttons pop and scatter across the floor. I don’t care. I need skin. I need her heartbeat under my

tongue.

I lift her. She wraps her legs around my waist instantly, grinding against the ridge of my cock already straining through my jeans. The walk to the bed is three steps and a lifetime. I throw her down. She bounces once, breasts spilling out of the torn neckline of her tank top, nipples hard and begging.

“Look at you,” I growl, my voice is barely human.

“Fucking perfect. Even when the world’s burning, you’re wet for me.”

She spreads her thighs wide, no hesitation, no shame. “Prove it.”

I drop to my knees, yank her leggings and panties down in one brutal pull. She’s soaked, glistening, thighs trembling bury my face between them without warning, tongue spearing inside her, licking up every drop of her like I’in starving. She screams, back bowing off the mattress, fingers twisting viciously in my hair.

“Adrian, fuck, right there…”

I suck her clit between my lips, flicking fast and merciless, two fingers plunging deep, curling hard against that spot that makes her sob my name, Fier taste floods my mouth, sweet and salty and alive. I could drown in it and die happy

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