The old ranger station came into view in the early hours of morning, just as the sky began to lighten. Lucien checked every corner twice before he allowed Elara to sit on the narrow bed. Her side still ached from the shallow cut, but the bandage held and the bleeding had long stopped. She was exhausted.
"Sleep," he told her, voice flat. "I'll take watch."
Elara nodded and lay down, too tired to argue. The last thing she saw was Lucien sitting in the chair by the window, gray eyes scanning the trees outside.
She fell asleep almost instantly.
In the dream, they were back at the cave before, cave was warmer this time. The fire burned brighter. Lucien was above her again, shirtless, his body hot and hard. His mouth was on her neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks. His hands roamed freely — palming her breasts, pinching her nipples until she moaned loudly.
"Lucien…" she gasped in the dream, hips rolling up against him.
He slid down her body, spreading her legs wide. His tongue licked a slow, filthy stripe up her soaked pussy, then circled her clit with perfect pressure. Two thick fingers pushed inside her, curling just right.
"Say my name again," he ordered, voice deep and rough.
"Lucien… oh god, Lucien—"
She came hard in the dream, crying out his name as pleasure crashed through her. Her body shook, thighs clamping around his head. She felt herself clench around his fingers, soaking his mouth.
Elara woke with a gasp, her body still trembling from the orgasm.
She was no longer alone on the bed.
Lucien had joined her at some point. He was lying on his side, propped on one elbow, watching her with those intense gray eyes. The fire had burned low, casting soft shadows across his face. His expression was unreadable, but his breathing was slightly uneven.
Her panties were damp — soaked, actually. A small wet spot had formed on the sheet beneath her.
Heat flooded her face. Embarrassment hit her like a wave. She had come from a dream about him. Loudly. While he was right there.
Lucien didn't tease her this time. He didn't call her "little whore" or make any sarcastic remark. Instead, something in his control cracked — just a little.
His hand reached out slowly and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. The touch was surprisingly gentle.
"You were calling my name," he said, voice low and rough. "Over and over."
Elara's cheeks burned hotter. She tried to turn away, but he caught her chin with two fingers and turned her face back to his.
"I… it was just a dream," she whispered, embarrassed and still aching.
Lucien's eyes darkened. He leaned closer, his body heat wrapping around her. "I know what you were dreaming about."
The air between them thickened. Elara's heart raced. She could feel the tension rolling off him — that same dominant, barely-leashed hunger from the cave.
He moved over her slowly, careful of her bandaged side, bracketing her body with his arms. His mouth hovered just above hers.
"But You make me want things I shouldn't little wife," he murmured. His voice was deep, ragged, and unintentionally sexy. "You're becoming inconvenient, wife."
Then he kissed her.
It started slow but quickly turned hungry. His tongue slid against hers, claiming her mouth with deep, deliberate strokes. Elara moaned softly, hands sliding up his chest. He was still shirtless, skin warm under her palms.
Lucien groaned into the kiss. One hand moved to her breast, squeezing gently before rolling her nipple between his fingers. Elara arched into his touch, gasping when he pinched lightly.
He broke the kiss to trail his mouth down her neck, sucking hard on the same spot he had marked before. His other hand slipped between her legs, rubbing slow circles over her soaked panties.
"So wet," he whispered against her skin, voice rough.
Elara whimpered, hips rolling against his hand. "Lucien…"
He pulled her panties down her legs and tossed them aside. Then he settled between her thighs, spreading her open with his hands. His mouth descended on her without warning — hot, wet, and relentless.
He licked her slowly at first, savoring every inch of her soaked pussy. Then he focused on her clit, sucking it into his mouth while two fingers pushed inside her, curling perfectly. Elara cried out, fingers tangling in his dark hair.
He didn't tease her this time. He devoured her — tongue flicking fast, fingers thrusting deep and steady. The wet sounds of his mouth on her filled the small cabin. Elara's moans grew louder, her hips bucking against his face.
When she came, it was intense. Her back arched off the bed, thighs shaking around his head as pleasure ripped through her. She called his name again, voice breaking.
Lucien licked her through it, gentling his movements until she was trembling and oversensitive. Only then did he kiss his way back up her body, careful of her wound. He settled on top of her, his hard cock pressing against her through his trousers.
Elara reached for his belt, desperate. "Please… I want you."
He caught her wrists and pinned them above her head with one hand. His eyes were dark with lust, but his control was still there — barely.
"Not yet," he whispered, voice low and ragged. "Not until you understand exactly what you're asking for. When I take you, it will be because you're ready to take every inch of me."
Elara's eyes stung with frustration and raw emotion. "I'm tired of this," she said, voice cracking. "Tired of you treating me like a tool one minute and touching me like I matter the next. Make up your mind, Lucien. Am I nothing to you or not?"
He stared down at her for a long moment, breathing hard. Then he released her wrists and rolled onto his back, pulling her against his chest. His arms wrapped around her tightly — the most tender he had ever been.
"Sleep," he murmured against her hair.
Elara nestled into his warmth, exhausted and confused. For the first time, she felt truly safe in his arms.
But just as she started to drift off, Lucien whispered against her ear, voice quiet and rough:
"Don't get used to this."
He knew he was still fighting the pull.
And so was she.
______
The first light of morning filtered through the trees when the sound of rotor blades cut through the quiet forest.
Elara tensed beside Lucien. Her side still throbbed from the shallow cut, but the bleeding had stopped. Lucien stood slowly, his movements careful. The fever had broken, but he was still weaker than he wanted anyone to see. He positioned himself in front of her anyway, body shielding hers out of pure instinct.
A black helicopter descended into the small clearing nearby. Three men in dark tactical gear jumped out before the skids even touched the ground. They moved with military precision, weapons ready, eyes scanning every shadow.
"Sir," the lead man called out, voice sharp with respect. "We received reports from returning couples — armed men in the forest. Assassins. We came as fast as we could. Following the tracker in your cloths"
Lucien gave a single nod. His voice was cold and commanding, even though his shoulder was still bandaged and his steps were slightly unsteady. "Status?"
"Three confirmed hostiles neutralized at the old cabin. More may be in the area. We need to extract you now."
The men didn't wait for further orders. Two of them immediately flanked Lucien and Elara, forming a protective wall. The third moved ahead, clearing the path to the helicopter. They obeyed Lucien instantly, without question — a well-oiled machine that answered only to him.
Elara watched it all with wide eyes. This was the Lucien the world feared. Not the man who had held her through the night or whispered filthy things against her skin. This was the Volkov heir who made grown men move with a single look.
One of the security men approached Lucien and spoke quietly. "The games continued for the others, sir. Elias and his wife finished yesterday. They placed high. Grandfather has been asking questions. Rumors about assassins are spreading fast."
Lucien's jaw tightened. He didn't reply, but Elara saw the flicker in his eyes — cold calculation returning.
They were ushered into the helicopter. Lucien sat beside her, his body still angled protectively even as the rotors spun louder. His hand rested on the seat between them for a moment, close enough that she could feel the heat, but he never touched her. Not now. Not with his men watching.
The flight back to New York was silent.
Lucien stared out the window the entire time, face carved from stone. The distance between them felt wider than the forest they had just escaped. The man who had pulled her close in the cave, who had licked her until she screamed his name, was gone. In his place was the cold, controlled Volkov heir once again.
Elara wrapped her arms around herself, the shallow cut on her side pulling slightly. She glanced at him, hoping for even a small sign that the forest had changed something.
Lucien didn't look at her once.