Where Ashes and Oaths Collide

Chapter 71: Eager

The scent of Amelia was a torture and a salvation all at once. “Amelia,” Luz breathed his hands sliding from her waist to the small of her back, pulling her flush against him. “I have spent six years thinking only of survival. Of duty. Of how to keep my soul from being swallowed whole.” He pulled back just enough to look at her, his amber eyes burning with a quiet, desperate hunger. “And now?” she asked, her hand trailing down his chest to his lower abdomen. “What are you thinking now?” his breath hitched, a sharp, jagged sound that tore through the quiet of the room. His muscles locked under her hand, every fibre of his body reacting to the touch like a soldier caught in an ambush– only this time, there was no instinct to fight.

“Now,” Luz said, his voice dropping into a register so low it was barely a whisper. “I am thinking that I do not want to be anywhere else in the world.” His hands tightened on her waist, his knuckles white. He leaned down, his lips finding the hollow of her throat, his mouth warm and urgent against her skin. “I am thinking about how much I have missed you,” he murmured against her pulse. Her hand continues moving down to cover his groin. “Is that all you are thinking about?" His entire body went rigid, a low, guttural sound tearing from his throat that he could not have suppressed if he tried. His fingers dug into her waist, not enough to hurt, but enough to anchor himself as if the floor had suddenly turned to water.

“No,” Luz rasped, his voice completely stripped of its former composure. “That is not all.” He pulled back, his face flushed, his chest heaving beneath Amelia’s hand. The amber in his eyes was fierce now, bright as a sun breaking through storm clouds. He looked at her with a raw, naked honesty that no armour could ever hide– the look of a man who had been starving for years and had finally found something to live for. “Amelia,” he said, his voice trembling with their weight of it. He did not wait for her to answer. He closed the distance, his mouth finding hers in a kiss that was anything but tentative. It was hungry, desperate, the kiss of a man who had forgotten what if felt like to be touch with tenderness and was now being reminded with overwhelming force.

Luz’s hands slid from Amelia’s waist to her red hair, fingers tangling in the strands as he pulled he closer, his body pressing into hers with a weight that was both grounding and intoxicating. The heat between them was undeniable, a physical thing that seemed to fill the small space between them. “I do not want to talk about the mission anymore,” he murmured against her lips, his voice thick and low. “Not tonight.” He lifted her slightly, his arms strong and sure beneath her, and carried her toward the bed. He laid her down with a gentleness that contradicted the raw intensity in his eyes. She smiled brightly on the bed and widened her legs. “I will not complain about that.”

Luz’s breath caught. The sight of her– open, inviting, and looking at him with that bright smile– shattered the last of his restraint. The commander personal dissolved into nothingness, leaving only the man who had been hollowed out by war and was finally being filled again. He moved over her, his weight pressing into the mattress, but he kept himself braced on his forearms so he would not crush her. His amber eyes traced every inch of her face, memorizing it as if he could burn it into his soul. “You have no idea,” he whispered, his voice rough and unsteady. “How much I like being here with you.” His hand slid from the mattress to her thigh, his fingers brushing against her skin with a reverence that bordered on worship.

“Well, you are definitely a lot more eager tonight,” Amelia commended, wrapping her arms around Luz’s neck. He let out a short, breathless laugh, his forehead dropping against hers. The sound was intimate, private, stripped of all the steel he carried through the world. “Six years is a long time to be hungry, Amelia,” he said, his voice vibrating against her skin. “You cannot blame me for not wanting to waste a single second.” His hands moved up from her thighs, tracing the curve of her waist before settling on her waist. He shifted his weight, pressing closer until there was no space left between them, his skin warm and alive against hers. He tilted his head, his lips brushing against her jawline, then her cheek, then finally finding her lips again.

The kiss was slower, deeper, tasting of everything Luz had denied himself for years. “I am not going anywhere,” he murmured against her mouth. “Thank the Gods,” Amelia murmured back. “Thought I might have to chain myself to you.” He pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes, a slow, dangerous smirk spreading across his face– one that had everything to do with the man he used to be. “You do not need chains,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, honeyed rasp. “I am not going anywhere. Not when you are looking at me like that.” His hands slid up from er hips, palms flat against her ribs, feeling the rapid thrum of her heart beneath her skin. He leaned down, his lips hovering just an inch from hers, his breath warm against her mouth.

Amelia’s hands moved to the brown leather belt around her waist, undoing the clasp and then moving to the bindings at the front of her midnight-coloured dress, loosening them slowly. Luz’s gaze followed every movement of her hands, his breathing becoming deliberate and heavy. The amber in his eyes seemed to catch the dim light of the room, glowing with a quiet, focused intensity. He watched the way the fabric of her dress gave way, the way her skin was revealed inch by inch, and his hands tightened on the mattress beside her head. “Amelia,” he said, her name sounding like a prayer and a demand all at once. He reached out, his fingers brushing against the loosened bindings of her dress, his touch feather-light but deliberate.