88 Our New Home 2
Mara
“I’m sorry you had to go through all that,” Lucian said softly.
I shook my head. “I’m over it, Lucian. I’m not dragging it up for sympathy-I’m just telling you why I smiled when you said she got caught.”
He nodded, eyes still locked on mine.
“Well,” he said, voice shifting with quiet excitement, “maybe this will make you even happier. It definitely made me happy.”
I leaned in, curious.
“Tina’s seeing someone.”
My face lit up.
That changed everything.
“The best part?” he continued. “If I can prove she’s dating someone, even if the baby is mine, she loses all right to stay in the mansion. She’ll have moved on. I’ll still take responsibility for the child, but not for her.”
I stared at him, beaming. “You’re serious?”
“I’m already investigating. I want her out. For good.”
I crashed my lips against his. The joy was overwhelming. Finally-a real way out of Tina’s web.
She’d tried to ruin our day, but it ended better than either of us expected. Lucian and I were closer than ever. Stronger. Hopeful. And ready for whatever came next.
The next morning, I woke up early. Something felt different-light, warm, normal. I wasn’t in a cold mansion or dodging insults at breakfast. I was in our home. With my husband.
And I wanted to make breakfast.
It would be the first time since we got together. Something small, something just for us. For the first time, I felt married.
I opened my phone and searched for ideas-simple recipes, something that might impress Lucian without trying to outdo the mansion’s chef. I knew I couldn’t compete with that level of skill, but this was about love, not luxury.
When I stepped into the kitchen, I found the staff already at work. A man and a woman-both calm, focused, and radiating
quiet professionalism.
The woman turned and smiled warmly.
“Luna Mara, good morning.”
She was in her mid-thirties, the man maybe in his early forties. There was kindness in their eyes.
“Good morning,” I said with a smile. “What are your names?”
They relaxed, clearly relieved I wasn’t Martha 2.0.
“Jennifer Clearwater,” the woman said, “and this is my husband, Richard. We live just down the road, Luna.”
“Nice to meet you both.” I glanced at the counter, eyes widening. “That’s… a lot.”
Jennifer chuckled. “Fresh pastries-Danish puffs, cinnamon rolls, croissants, and bread. Alpha Lucian asked me to make
New Home
them every other day.”
“Every other day?” I laughed. “He does love his carbs.”
She nodded. “He also said you two will be cooking dinner on weekends, and that you’d like to cook sometimes.”
I smiled, heart full.
“May I join you?” I asked, glancing at the dough and flour with anticipation.
Jennifer beamed. “It would be an honor, Luna.”
I paused. That title again. Luna.
Not just a name. A future. A promise.
And for the first time, it didn’t feel like something I had to live up to.
It felt like something I was growing into-one morning, one laugh, one cinnamon roll at a time.
Working on the puff pastries was work. Even though the dough was store-bought, shaping and filling them took far more effort than I expected.
For the first time, I truly appreciated the kitchen staff at the Nighthorn mansion-those people rolled out gourmet-level pastries every day like it was nothing.
I was grateful Lucian had insisted we bring in help. Without it, we’d be surviving on toast, cereal, and desperation.
I was elbow-deep in pastry dough when I heard Lucian’s voice in my head.
“Come to bed, Mara.”
His tone was soft. Craving. I washed my hands, excused myself, and whispered to Jennifer that I wouldn’t be back for a while. She gave me a knowing smile that made my cheeks warm. I’d have to get used to that look-because I had a
husband who couldn’t get enough of me, especially in the mornings.
When I entered our bedroom, Lucian was sitting on the edge of the bed in just his shorts. He looked up at me like I was the only thing that existed.
“Come here,” he said, and I obeyed without hesitation.
I slipped off my robe and stepped into his arms. My fingers traced the Alpha Mark on his upper arm before I kissed it
gently. That mark represented strength, status-and now, intimacy. He pulled me into a deep kiss, and it was tender but
urgent, like he needed the reassurance of us.
“I’m addicted to you, Mara,” he murmured against my lips. “I can’t get enough.”
His words lit something in me. I wasn’t just wanted. I was claimed, loved, treasured. My body responded before my mind could catch up-heat flooding through me, tension building beneath my skin. My core clenched with need and
anticipation.
Lucian laid me gently on the bed, his eyes devouring every inch of me. There was no rush in his movements. No frenzy. Just reverence.
“I want to take my time,” he whispered. “Your body is mine to worship.” But my body moved on its own, patience was off the table in this regard.
He moved with purpose, knowing every place to touch, every breath to take.
His hands trailed under my nightgown, teasing me to the edge and pulling me back, over and over. I arched against him, moaning softly, lost in the rhythm he created.
8 Our New Home 2
He circled my entrance and completely avoided my clit. I wanted his finger there, hell, I wanted his tongue and lips there, but he was moving at his own pace, driving me crazy with need.
“Talk to me, Mara,” he said, his voice thick with need. “Tell me what you want.”
His lips brushed my earlobe, and I shivered.
“Touch me,” I breathed.
“I am touching you,” he teased, and I groaned, my restraint crumbling.
“I want to hear you say it,” he said, looking me in the eye. His eyes were completely dark with lust. I thought I’d be able to hold out, but the need was too much and soon desire engulfed me.
“Eat me Lucian, I want you tongue on my clit,” I managed between moans and intense anticipation.
The sensations crashed into me like a wave, and I lost all sense of where we were. There was only Lucian. His breath. His
touch. His need tangled with mine.
I came fiercely, the waves crashing through me over and over. I felt suspended as my body stretched and then coiled to accommodate my release. And then he was inside me, moving with slow, powerful rhythm-anchored to me, as if I were
his home.
“This is so good,” he murmured against my neck. “so f*****g good.”
His wolf was close to the surface-I could feel it in the way he moved, raw and intense.
“Mine,” he growled, and the sound shattered the last of my composure.
Pleasure overtook me, sharp and consuming. I cried out his name as he held me through it, never stopping, never letting
me fall alone.
When his release came, it was fierce and full. He stayed inside me, forehead resting on mine, both of us breathless.
We didn’t speak.
We didn’t need to.
In that moment, wrapped in sheets and sunlight, we were exactly where we were meant to be.
* 59 (Lucian POV) Boundaries
* Points>
