Chapter 338: My Protests Melted into Him
Meredith.
My heart pounded against my ribs, every beat echoing in my ears.
The firelight painted his skin in golds and shadows as he leaned back, his eyes burning up at me.
His hand trailed upward again, slow, deliberate, undoing the rest of my buttons with that same infuriating control. One by one, the fabric gave way until the cool air kissed my skin.
His palm flattened over my stomach, sliding higher. I shivered under his touch, every nerve in me alive.
When his thumb brushed the underside of my breast, I gasped, my body arching instinctively. His eyes narrowed, dark with desire, but his smile was faint, savoring.
"You are trembling," he murmured.
"Because of you," I whispered back, my voice breaking with breath.
He chuckled low, the sound vibrating against my lips as he kissed me again, slower this time, deeper, as though savouring my surrender.
His other hand tangled in my hair, guiding me, holding me close until I was dizzy with him.
My own hands grew bolder, sliding along his chest, down to his abdomen, where hard muscle rippled beneath my touch.
I tugged at his shirt, impatient. He let me pull it free, breaking the kiss only long enough to tear it over his head.
My breath caught at the sight of him—the strength carved into every line of his abs. My fingers traced them reverently before he caught my hand, pressing my palm flat against his chest.
"This is yours," he said simply, but fiercely.
Emotion swelled in my chest so sharply it almost hurt. I bent down to kiss him again, pouring all I couldn’t say into the press of my lips.
The world outside ceased to exist. There was no Brackham, no war, no whispers of Valmora.
There was only Draven, his hands on me, his mouth devouring me, his body pressed flush against mine as the firelight bore witness to our bond.
When he finally lay me back against the sofa cushions, hovering over me with his weight and heat, I welcomed him without hesitation.
My fingers slid into his hair, holding him to me as our bodies came together in a rhythm older than time.
Every kiss, every touch, every desperate gasp reminded me that I wasn’t just his Luna in name. I was his in every way.
The world blurred into heat and sensation, into fire and breath and his body over mine.
When it was over, I lay against the cushions, my skin damp, my chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.
The crackle of the hearth filled the silence, softer now, a steady counterpoint to the racing of my heart.
Draven’s weight pressed into me, solid and grounding, his arm curled possessively around my waist.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke. I could feel his heartbeat still thundering against my skin, matching mine.
He shifted, propping himself on one elbow to look down at me. Strands of his dark hair fell forward, brushing my cheek. His golden eyes softened, the fire in them tempered now by something quieter.
"You undo me," he murmured, his voice rough from exertion but warm.
I smiled faintly, brushing a hand across his jaw. "I could say the same."
His lips curved, though he didn’t laugh. Instead, he pressed a kiss to my temple, lingering there. The gesture was almost reverent, and it made my throat tighten.
For a while, we simply breathed together. My body felt heavy and sated, but my mind kept circling back to what we had spoken about earlier—leadership, sacrifice, and power.
The intimacy hadn’t wiped out those truths; it had merely made them clearer.
"Draven?" I whispered.
"Mmm?"
"I want you to know that whatever path lies ahead, I will walk it with you, even if it terrifies me or changes me."
His hand brushed along my side, slow and thoughtful. "Good," he said softly. "Because I will never walk it without you."
The words sank into me, more binding than any vow. I nestled closer into him, resting my head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart.
In that moment, I came to understand something. Love wasn’t just what we shared in passion. It was what would anchor us when power and war threatened to strip everything else away.
And I vowed to hold onto that, no matter what sacrifices the future demanded.
As the silence between us stretched, warm and soothing, my stomach made itself known with a soft growl.
Heat rushed to my cheeks, but I lifted my head anyway. "I’m hungry," I announced suddenly.
Draven actually laughed, a low, genuine sound that rumbled through his chest. "Hungry already?"
His golden eyes gleamed with amusement. "It seems I should make some adjustments to your daily schedule."
I narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously. "What are you thinking?"
His grin widened, infuriatingly calm. "From tomorrow, there will be no more early morning training for you."
"Really?" I blinked at him, excitement sparking. "You mean it—"
But before I could finish, he smirked and shattered my hopes. "Instead, you will be doing a one-hour morning run."
My jaw dropped. "What?" I slapped his chest lightly, frowning. "That’s not fair!"
He only chuckled, his shoulders shaking beneath my hand.
I scowled. "Have you forgotten that I can’t shift yet? How am I supposed to manage that?"
"You can manage just the way you are," he said smoothly.
I lifted my hand to swat him again, but he caught my wrist easily this time, trapping it against his chest.
His warmth seeped into my palm as his gaze softened, earnest beneath the teasing.
"Running every morning will build your stamina," he explained calmly. "It will help you during long fights, especially if you are fighting me. Because, Meredith..." his lips curved faintly, "I can sense we might go for two hours or more when that time comes."
I blinked at him, searching his face for any sign of a joke. His eyes gave nothing away. My lips parted, but no words came.
Then he pinched my cheek, his smirk returning, before leaning down to capture my lips in a kiss.
And just like that, all my protests melted into him.