Mated but not Tamed

Chapter 30 - Trying New Things

Luther's POV

I heard her before I saw her.

The soft shuffle of bare feet. The hesitant rhythm of her breath. The faint scent of lavender, eucalyptus and nerves curling into the air—hers, always hers, always just enough to undo me.

I closed the book, already forgotten, and tracked my eyes up and down her body.

And there she was. Glowing like the star she is.

Magnolia stood in the doorway in that new silk pajama set—pale blue, barely-there straps, soft fabric clinging to her in a way that made my chest ache. Not because of how beautiful she looked—though gods, she was—but because of what it took for her to wear something like that.

She held her arms loosely across her stomach, shy, uncertain. Her eyes flicked to mine and then down, like she might bolt.

"Hey," I said gently, pushing the book to the end of the couch. "Come here."

She hesitated.

So I softened my voice. "Please."

That broke through whatever wall she was building. She stepped forward, slowly, her eyes still not quite meeting mine. I stayed seated, hands on my thighs, not reaching for her—just letting her close the distance in her own time.

When she finally stood in front of me, I tipped my head back to look up at her.

"You're stunning, sweetheart," I said quietly. "Absolutely stunning."

She bit her lip, blushing furiously. "It's just pajamas."

"No," I murmured. "It's you in them."

A flicker of a smile. A shaky exhale. I lifted a hand, palm open. "Can I touch you?"

She nodded, slow but sure. I waited.

"Words, Magnolia."

"Yes," she whispered. "Please."

That one word—please—almost unraveled me.

I tugged her gently into my lap, one arm sliding around her waist, the other brushing her hair back behind her ear. Her legs folded across mine, silk sliding against denim, her warmth settling against my chest.

"Okay?" I asked again.

She nodded against my shoulder. "Okay."

My hands moved slowly, reverently. One to her back, one tracing the curve of her thigh through that whisper of silk. She trembled—but it wasn't fear. Her breathing stuttered, shallow and wanting. My restraint frayed with every passing second, but I held it tight.

I pressed my lips to her neck. Just a kiss. Then another. And another.

She gasped when I reached the hollow of her collarbone and sucked gently. The taste of her skin shouldn't be enough to completely undo me, but here we are.

Me, a starving animal at her alter.

"You're perfect like this," I whispered into her skin. "Do you know that?"

She shivered.

"You have no idea what you do to me, do you?"

A breathy sound escaped her—part moan, part whimper. My dick hardens, strain at the denim fabric holding it prisoner. Just inches from her warm heat. A zipper imprint no doubt tattooed there.

I let my hands drift lower, exploring gently, tracing the line of her thighs where her night shorts had ridden up. I feel her shift in my lap, feel the heat of her through both our clothes. Gods, the way she pressed against me—