Aria's POV
It had been a week since I last saw him. My duties as Luna, his obligations as the Afra, had kept us apart, and every hour stretched painfully, leaving a hollow ache I couldn't shake. Every nerve of me craved him; the warmth, the fire, the way he always seemed to know exactly what I needed before I did. The world felt muted without him, dull, lacking the spark that only he could ignite. And then, like a force of fate, he walked into my office, moving with that effortless dominance, and everything else ceased to exist.
"Aria…" His voice was low, rough around the edges, trembling with the intensity I could feel all the way to my core. "I've missed you so much."
I froze, breath catching in my throat. "Lucien… not here—" I tried to protest, the words trembling on my lips, but before I could finish, he was upon me. Strong, urgent, consuming. One hand at my waist, he lifted me effortlessly, pressing me against the desk.
"Not here?" he whispered against my ear, lips brushing my skin in a way that sent shivers racing down my spine. "I think it's much more fun this way. A little risk… don't you agree?"
I gasped, trying to push back, though my body betrayed me, responding eagerly to the heat of
his touch. "Lucien… I—"
"Shh…" His finger silenced me, and I melted under his gaze, helpless. "Just feel, Aria. Let me show you how much I've missed you."
His hands spread me across the desk, reverent but demanding, every inch of me sacred in his touch, and he knelt before me. The worship, the intensity of him—it was all-consuming. Lips, tongue, hands moving in perfect harmony, teasing and coaxing me, unraveling the tension I had been holding back all week. Every flick, every caress, every whisper of his breath sent jolts of fire through me, pushing me to the edge I hadn't realized I'd reached.
"I've been waiting," he murmured, voice thick with desire. "A week, Aria. A whole week. Do you know how long that felt?"
I tried to resist, tried to speak, but all that escaped was a shiver, betraying my body's need. "You're… dangerous," I whispered, the tremor in my voice belying the fire building inside me.
"And you love it," he countered, eyes dark, a grin tugging at his lips, unyielding in its certainty. "Don't lie. You can't hide it from me."
His tongue, his fingers, every touch meticulously unraveling me, teasing me to the point where my knees shook, breath hitched, and every nerve felt alight with sensation. "Lucien… please…" I gasped, words meaningless in the heat of the moment.
He looked up at me, eyes intent, dark with hunger and devotion. "Shh… just feel. Let me worship you."
Every flick, every slide, every teasing graze brought me closer, and then he whispered my name, low and reverent, almost a prayer. I came undone beneath him, trembling violently, every nerve ablaze, my back arching as he held me in a perfect, consuming rhythm of need and reverence.
"You feel perfect," he murmured, pressing his lips to my inner arm, holding me as I shuddered and gasped. I had never felt so exposed, so completely claimed, so entirely his.
Gently, teasingly, he lifted me and flipped me over the desk, pressing my chest against the cold wood, every movement heightening the intensity coursing through me. "Lucien… I can't…" I stammered, breathless, eyes half-lidded with desire and need.
"Yes, you can," he whispered, husky and commanding. "I've missed this… missed you. Every second apart, every moment without you… it's unbearable."
Then, without warning, he thrust into me, that familiar, perfect stretch—the way it always seemed he shouldn't fit, and yet he did, as if made for me by the moon itself, every movement precise and intoxicating, hitting the depths that only he could. "Ah…!" I cried, fingers clutching his shoulders, the desk, anything to anchor myself against the overwhelming surge of sensation.
"You're mine," he murmured, lips brushing my ear, voice reverent and intimate. "Made for me, Aria. Always. Every inch, every curve… perfect. You and me."
I gasped, body trembling, legs weak beneath him, mind fogged by the exquisite intensity, every thrust pulling me closer to that peak I had been craving, the one that only he could deliver. "Lucien… oh God…"
"I know," he whispered, awe threading through his voice. "I've missed this… missed you. Feel it with me… come with me."
The tension built until it broke over us together. Our release came in perfect synchrony, my legs quivering, breath ragged, my body shuddering violently as he murmured my name like a sacred prayer, over and over, until my senses felt set aflame, every nerve alight. He held me, lips to ear, hands securing me in that perfect storm of connection.
"Always… you. Always us. No matter what, Aria… always us," he whispered, holding me close, steadying me as my body came down from the peak, still trembling, still alive with fire.
Pulling me up slightly, forehead against mine, eyes locked on mine, the lingering heat of desire and closeness radiating between us, he teased softly, "Think you can survive another week apart?"
I shook my head, laughter escaping me, breath still ragged, body buzzing from the intensity. "Never… never again. Not like this."
"No," he said, pressing a fervent, lingering kiss to my lips. "Never again. I won't let it happen. Not us. Not ever."
And as we lingered, tangled across the desk, hearts racing, bodies still alive with fire, I knew the truth. No matter the duties, the responsibilities, the world outside, Lucien and I were bound. The moon had claimed us, the fates had stitched us together, and nothing—not a week apart, not a lifetime of obligations—could ever sever this bond.
The room was silent except for our ragged breaths, our pulses echoing together, a shared heartbeat that seemed louder than the world outside. I rested my head against his shoulder, inhaling the scent that was entirely him, feeling the steady, strong rhythm of his chest beneath mine. The ache of separation from the past week melted away, leaving only heat, desire, and the unshakable certainty that we were made for each other.
"No more weeks apart," I whispered against him, voice small, still trembling.
"Never," he promised, lips brushing my temple. "You and me… we'll always find each other. Always."
And in that moment, nothing else existed—no office, no duties, no distant pack obligations. Only us, only the fire we ignited together, and the knowledge that the moon itself had decreed our bond unbreakable, eternal, and perfect.