Chapter Text
~O~
One week. An entire week. Seven days and thirteen hours, to be precise, since Mari had last seen him. And as she stood by the bar, watching as everyone danced, bathed in the pulsating lights of the club, she wanted nothing more than to feel his arms encircle her waist.
The bass thrummed in her chest with an electric pulse that mirrored the frantic energy of the club. Marielena tilted her head back, closing her eyes for a brief moment as she let the music seep into her veins, the ache of his absence still gnawing at the edges of her thoughts.
She opened her eyes again, and there he was.
He stood in the shadowed corner of the club, the strobe light catching the faint sheen of his raven-black hair and the sharp cut of his bearded jawline. His button-down shirt was open enough to catch the glimmer of a silver chain, nestled in a light tuft of curls. His dark eyes were locked on her, intense even through the haze of smoke and light. A small smile tugged at his lips, like he knew exactly what she was thinking.
Mari smirked back, not bothering to hide the open dare in her gaze and turned to the dance floor. If he wanted to play games, she would make him work for it.
She stepped into the vibrating crowd, her hips swaying with every deep beat of the music. Hips switching and gyrating to the rhythm, she raised her arms above her head. Her fingers curled through the smoky air as her body moved like silk, fluid and sensually graceful.
The crowd parted slightly, enough for her to see him weaving through the dancers. He was like a wolf, un lobo stalking its prey. He didn’t rush, making her wait, the sly bastard, until finally, he was close enough for her to feel the heat of his presence behind her.
Mari spun slowly, her gray eyes catching his, and despite her resolution to make him suffer, even just a little, she gave him a sly grin. She didn’t stop moving, her body rolling to the heavy bassline as she turned her back to him once more.
That was when she felt his fingers, feather-light, brushing down the curve of her spine. The touch sent a shiver skittering across her skin, and she bit her lip to keep from moaning. Not that it would have mattered anyway. She could barely hear herself think, lost in the music—her mind lost in a cloud of lust. The warmth of his hand was gone too soon, leaving her skin tingling in its absence. He circled her, his moves matching hers as though they had rehearsed this ritual a thousand times.
When she turned again, he was impossibly close, hand grazing her hip... his breath warm against her ear.
“Miss me?” His voice rumbled so low, it barely carried over the music.
Mari laughed, a soft, sultry sound she knew would elicit a smolder. She was right. His gaze burned into hers as he pulled her in. Her fingers found their way to the nape of his neck, tangling in his hair as she tilted her head back to laugh. Oh, did she love this little game.
Leaning into him, she brushed hair away from his neck, exposing the small dagger earring hanging from his earlobe. “I don’t think you’ve earned an answer,” she murmured in his ear, though the heat in the raspiness of her voice betrayed her. She had missed him—more than she wanted to admit here in a crowd full of people. Maker, the things she wanted to do to this man.
Lucanis chuckled, the sound vibrating against her as he wrapped his arms around her waist. The song blended seamlessly into the next, the bass growing deeper, darker, and their bodies followed the hypnotic sway. Every caress, every pass of his hands down her skin to the small of her back, pressing, heavy, hot, felt like a negotiation for what was to come. A treaty of a little death they could both partake in.
By the time they meandered through the darkened hallways, up a winding staircase to the empty VIP lounge, Mari was ready for anything. For everything. With him.
But he could wait. He was a patient man, she knew. Not always when it came to her, though, she thought with a coy smile.
“Fancy little room, isn't it?” She snickered huskily, tossing her thick black waves over her shoulder. There was nothing small about the space, but she knew it would get a hint of a rise out of him.
“Hmm,” he hummed, his lip twitching the slightest bit. He sat on the armrest of the sofa, brazen in the way his eyes raked over her curves.
“I heard some rich guy owns this place.” She walked over to him, the thrumming beat of the music below muted but pulsing against the floor and walls. With her scarlet-painted nails, she traced a long path down his thigh. The simmering heat in her belly deepened at the sight of his gaze lingering on her lips, grazing down the smooth column of her neck.
“I heard that, too,” he drawled, slowly pulling her in between his legs.
His hands felt molten on her hips. She wanted them searing his claim on her all over her flesh.
“I don’t think he’ll mind if we repurpose this couch for a bit, do you?” She purred in his ear, combing her slender fingers through his hair. So soft, always so fucking soft, she sighed.
His answering chuckle was throaty and deep, and she shivered at the way his dark gaze raptly followed the trail her fingers were now ghosting down his chest.
“We can ask for forgiveness later, gatita.”
He turned them both around and guided her back down onto the couch. Hovering over her, the heat of his hand crept up the side of her thigh. The coolness of his rings pressed firmly into her pliant, smooth flesh, awakening a tingling sensation that raced straight to her aching core.
Her hips bucked impatiently beneath his weight. She needed friction, wanted it so desperately, she growled as she pulled him into her ravenous kiss.
Her tongue slipped between his lips, and she nearly lost herself at the way he sucked on it. Her whimper was swallowed by his hungry, greedy growl when she grasped his belt and pulled his hips even harder, her insistence wanton and feral.
She had no doubt she would be completely bare if it weren’t for his need to savor her, to tease and torment. And damn him if her nipples weren't already painfully stiff peaks, her breasts heavy with anticipation, and her panties absolutely ruined.
Fuck it, she thought as she swiftly pulled his belt free from its loops, then his fly. His hiss of surprise was a beautiful thing, but it was the sight of his thick length springing free from his boxers and pants that caused the excited pulsing between her legs.
"It's been a week, lobo," she purred, palming his throbbing erection with her hand. Her thumb traced his underside of the tip, and a surge of satisfaction rippled through her at his shudder. “Did you miss me?”
"Always," he groaned, and his mouth crashed upon hers once again.
They parted only so she could pull her dress up and over her head. Lucanis groaned deeply when he discovered what was underneath: thin, black lace covering her full breasts, accompanied by a black lacy thong that dug into her skin.
She moaned when he reached beneath her and roughly cupped her ass, pinching and gripping it in that deliciously possessive way of his.
His mouth fell upon hers once again, hot and needy, but before Mari could sink back into its entrancing pull, he was moving again. Down her throat, he licked a path with the flat of his tongue, until her mind went blank with pleasure, and the sounds escaping her lips were heady and breathless.
In no time at all, he had pulled the straps of her bra from her shoulders, and tugged the flimsy garment down around her waist. There was a slight pause, where they caught their breaths, staring at one another heatedly, before he reclaimed his hold on her soft breasts, kneading them as he bit his lip.
“Mi gatita,” he groaned before covering a nipple with his mouth.
He rolled it between his teeth before suckling hard, causing her back to arch and pushing more of it into him. Her nails clawed through his hair at the scalp, her own pain bleeding into the intensity of the rapture of his tongue. She cried out in bliss when the wet heat of his mouth moved to the other side.
"I love feeling you tremble like this," he whispered, looking up at her with a lusty adoration.
A shudder rippled through her as his tongue drew tight little circles around the over-sensitized peak. Then, just like that, his mouth was on the move again.
The heat in Mari's core pulsed with impatience, throbbed with the desperate need for friction. But she held onto the loose fragments of composure she had left. It was always like this with him; Lucanis loved to play. She loved the tease—almost as much as the reward she received once she allowed his wicked mouth to roam wherever it wanted, whenever he wanted.
Her prize was the sensuous feel of his lips against her navel and the sharp, delicious tug he gave her panties before removing them. She could tell by the way his eyes glinted with that predatory gleam at her—she had better keep her hips still as he slid them down her thighs to the floor. If not, she would pay somehow. Not that she really minded, but now was not the time for delayed gratification.
Besides, she had had enough delaying for the past week; now was the time for relief under the only man she wanted. The anticipation had turned into an urgent, pounding need in her bloodstream. It was impossible not to grind herself against his thigh in pursuit of something—anything to sate that firestorm within her, even as it scorched her, singing every nerve ending and inhibition in her body.
"Ah!" she cried as Lucanis nipped sharply at her inner thighs, licking away the sting with the heat of his tongue. A breathy moan escaped her as he sucked a burning trail up from where her knee met her thigh. "Oh, fuck. I missed that tongue."
"I missed the way you taste," he said. "So sweet and all mine."
She hissed his name. A sharp, breathless thing, which quickly melded with his pleased hum as he nuzzled the patch of short hairs crowning her clit. A pathetic and broken whimper escaped her when he breathed her in.
Trembling, her breath hitched when the heat of his mouth closed around her. The sight of him tasting, feeding, moaning against her at the taste of her alone, nearly undid her then and there. Mari could swear she was dripping from her core onto the velvet cushions at this point, but she didn't give a damn. This whole damned place was theirs. Every corner could soak up her desire if that was his wont. And that truth only made her all the wetter.
She ground herself against him shamelessly. Her hand was tangled in his silky locks once more as he continued to suckle and pull her bud in between his teeth, sending her hurtling towards the edge. The tension in her body built with every passing second, quickly rising with the heat of his salacious tongue.
"Lu—" Mari broke off with a strangled gasp as he slipped a finger, then another inside her.
She bucked down against them greedily, wanting it harder, faster. But Lucanis slowed her greedy pace down with his tongue against her clit and his other hand clamped firmly on her hip. The grip of his hands was bruising, just how she liked it.
Frustrated, Mari cried out when he pulled away, until she saw him pumping his cock between them in slow strokes. He was rock hard, glistening in the low lights, ready to be engulfed and devoured by her eager little cunt.
His gaze caught hers, and it was positively primal. Her lobo was done playing with his kill; he had her right where he wanted her, and she was all too willing. She always was.
She spread her legs open, inviting him in. Lucanis chuckled, a deliciously dark sound, and rubbed himself against her slit before slipping past the tight, slick muscles at her entrance.
They moaned simultaneously as her walls enveloped him greedily. She gripped the armrest behind her as she rolled her hips up against his. She felt full, stretched in the most incredible way—so exquisite she thought she might die from the sweet release that kept building higher still.
He pressed himself flush against her and ground himself into her velvety depths. With a dangerous rhythm, he rolled his hips, slow, deeply against her, rubbing every last bit of friction and heat against her clit until he pulled back and did it all over again.
“Fuck, papi,” she hissed.
It was an unwelcome surprise when he pulled out, leaving her gasping and wanting, begging him for more.
"Te tengo, gatita,” he panted with a smirk, sitting back and drawing her up to straddle him. "Sit," he urged, gently sliding his thickness into her as she mewled above him.
His hands settled on her ass and began to guide her in a rapacious rhythm. All the while, his mouth sought out her collarbone, her neck, her breasts—anywhere he could reach. His teeth scraped and nipped in time with the way he angled himself within her to reach that deep, sensitive spot he knew so well.
Every move he made inside her, his hands roving over her body, his mouth ravenous for her, it only served to deepen her need for him. He knew her, every part of her, inside and out. Years of stolen touches and glances before finally making things official, now being branded into again. She fucking loved him so much.
"Mi fiera," he groaned, encouraging her as he grabbed her breasts and sucked on a pert bud with a low hum.
With his other hand, he gripped and guided her hips down on him at the pace he desired—languid, deep, hard. He pulled the other nipple into his mouth, sucking, nipping, biting down until she was clawing at his back and whimpering as those tight little coils of ecstasy drew impossibly tighter inside her, threatening to shatter apart at any given moment.
Their movements became less precise and more erratic, giving and taking with a reckless abandon that only heightened the rapture. He pulled her closer against him as he continued to thrust up into her. His fingers dug roughly into the soft flesh of her ass, asserting his claim over her.
She couldn't take it anymore.
She was there, right on the edge—just one tiny push away from plunging down into that swirling pit of nothingness that would take her, envelop her until she couldn't even remember her fucking name. With a wanton moan, she gave herself over to the oncoming rush of fire flooding her veins.
He responded with a guttural moan and a final sharp thrust, burying himself deep within her. His release triggered hers, sending a burst of euphoric sensation that provoked every one of her nerve endings to ignite with that blazing, blinding pleasure she loved so much.
"Te amo," she heard him whisper as he planted his face between her breasts.
Nothing mattered except the way her heart drummed, thunderously so, against his in the silence that followed. Nothing else existed beyond the way her limbs trembled, still shaking with aftershocks that intermingled with the tremors that coursed through him.
"You should show me how much later." Mari ran a hand through his hair, cradling him with every ounce of love she had stored up for him. She smiled down at him.
His gaze burned up at her, his eyes so full of longing and warmth, it made her stomach flutter. Almost six years together, and he still made her feel like the most coveted treasure in the world.
"You couldn’t tell after all of that, gatita?" He arched an eyebrow playfully. His grin was pure, wicked temptation, though the way he cupped her face in both hands, running his thumb along her cheek held a reverent tenderness. "I love you, gatita."
She snickered, feeling warm all over. "You are so soft for such a deadly man."
With a smooth chuckle, he placed a chaste kiss on her lips before resting his head atop her breasts.
“Let’s go home, amor,” she whispered in his ear.
He nodded, his response muffled against the swell of her cleavage. She would have teased him for it, but he sounded so exhausted, she didn't have the heart to do so. He was clearly happy, just as she was. She liked that thought. It settled nicely within her.
~
The next morning, the warmth of the sun crept along the exposed bits of her back through the partly opened curtains. Her silk shift tickled her skin as it was moved by an intrepid hand wandering up her lower back.
“Buenos días, mi reina,” Lucanis’ voice purred against her skin, followed by the wet ardor of his tongue.
“Mmm,” Mari hummed. She smiled as he rolled her over and into his arms.
Sweeping her nails delicately over the soft, short curls on his chest, she sighed, content and sated. They had more than made up for lost time last night, crashing into the villa in a storm of kisses and heavy touches. It was a miracle they made it to their suite in time for him to enter her with a ragged groan against the door.
“So,” she said, tilting her head to look up at him. She scratched at his beard, unable to resist the urge—she loved the way it scraped against her skin, but moreover, it was yet another thing that made him... him. “How did the contract go?”
Lucanis stiffened for a brief second, and if she weren’t so in tune with his body, she would have missed it. His jaw tensed, and she knew that whatever had happened, it wasn’t a standard job.
“We ran into some Venatori.”
Mari sat up just enough to rest her chin on the hand splayed out on his chest. “What happened?”
He looked at her, then away, the hand rubbing her back going still. “There were slaves. It doesn’t matter. I fulfilled the contract.” He resumed the light grazing touches on her back, but his gaze remained averted.
“Amor,” she murmured, knowing him well enough to press gently. She leaned up more, cradling his face and making him look at her. “Que paso?” She watched him quietly as he sighed. “What happened?” she repeated with care, anxiety and concern roiling in her stomach. Whatever it was, whatever he saw with those slaves, it must have been bad, and knowing him...
“You let them go,” she said after a moment of silence.
Lucanis met her gray gaze with a sorrowful look. “I am just glad to be back home, gatita.” He cupped her chin, and she moved to meet him halfway, kissing him gently. He pulled her wrist up to his mouth and kissed it before looking at her with a softer expression. “I missed you. I always do.”
“And I leave tomorrow,” she said, suddenly morose. She stroked his beard. “When is your next assignment?”
“I leave tomorrow, as well,” he said, visibly dejected at the thought.
It gave her some comfort, at least, that even though he loved their lifestyle, he hated being apart from her.
“You know, since the wedding, Caterina hasn’t sent us out together,” she said, nearly grumbling. “Does she think that me being your wife now will suddenly hinder how well we've always worked together?”
Lucanis shrugged. “You know her. She has her reasons.”
“And guards them hawkishly,” Mari muttered.
“I suppose it is the way of Talons. Secrets and protecting their houses,” he said, squeezing her tighter to him.
He was so warm. She kissed him once, then again.
“And you are officially a Dellamorte, after all,” he added. His lopsided grin made her chest tighten.
She felt herself flush. She wouldn’t openly admit it, but it did fill her with a sense of pride that she was, indeed, a Dellamorte—that Lucanis had made her his, officially, even though Caterina had given her blessing begrudgingly.
“Marielena Dellamorte, mi gatita,” he said, rolling them over and leaning over her. “My wife and love.” He kissed her, leisurely and deep.
That was, until there was a knock at the door. They both groaned before sharing a laugh. An older, hefty, and stern-looking woman entered once Lucanis gave the word, pushing in a cart with a plentiful array of breakfast.
When they were alone, he kissed her again before asking her what she wanted to start with.
Mari gave him a shameless pout. “I like it better when you make me breakfast.”
Lucanis’ chuckle rumbled against her skin as he kissed her neck. “That’s interesting,” he said with a hum, “because I like it when you are my breakfast.”
“Oh,” she purred, straddling his waist, the sheet pinched between their bodies. “Is that so?”
With a soft sigh, she pressed her lips to his, savoring the warmth of his body against hers. His arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her in closer.
With every slow flick of her tongue, she coaxed soft grunts from him that made her smile into their kiss. Slowly, she bucked her hips, grinding her heat over the hardening strain of his arousal.
“Fuck,” she moaned. “I missed you so much.”
He nodded, breathless, and reached between them to move the sheet out of the way with a haphazard tug. Sharing a breath, they moaned into each other’s mouths as he slipped the tip of his cock into her.
Barely resisting his efforts to pull her down all the way, she teased him with lazy gyrations, the friction building a furious slow-burn in her belly.
“You temptress,” he growled into the valley between her breasts and slapped her ass.
She bit her lip, humming in amused approval as she sank the slightest bit lower onto him.
“I just want you to enjoy what you’ll be missing,” she whispered breathily in his ear. At his groan, she smirked impishly before nipping his earlobe, pulling the dagger earring in between her teeth. "Mi rey," she purred.
He sucked at her neck, growling as he pulled her down completely, her hips flush with his. With a wild and wanton moan, she rocked against him, letting his hands guide her movements. Lapping at the fresh wet bruise on her skin, his groans became raspier, desperate and in time with her feverish whimpers. The tension in her belly coiled tighter, the heat of her little death slowly spreading like a scorching wildfire.
“Mari,” he breathed against her lips, pulling her into a drugging kiss that left her reeling.
As they both came, quivering and sweating like a pair of lovesick teenagers, they laughed. He kissed her, deeply, taking his time as he tasted her.
“Now,” he said, “let’s get cleaned up and eat, yes?”
“Fine,” she sighed, giggling when her stomach grumbled.
~
Two weeks had passed.
Mari stood on the steps of the Villa’s main entrance, her heart racing with a rabid excitement as the family car rolled up the gravel path to the circular driveway.
But when the door opened, the only one she saw step out was Illario.
Her heart sank, and her mouth went dry.
She watched him approach with a clenched jaw, her chest tightening as she took in the deep cut healing over his right eye. He greeted her with a dip of his head, but she grabbed his hand before he could say anything more. His glassy eyes met hers, his lips twitching into a frown.
The nausea hit her like a wave.
“He’s gone, Mari.”
She snatched her hand away, her stomach churning violently.
“Impossible.” The word came out brittle, a sound that didn’t feel like her own. Her mind refused to believe it, every fiber of her being rejecting the possibility. Her heart thundered in her chest, and her palms grew clammy with sweat.
Illario's face scrunched up, and he scoffed. “We’re assassins, Mari. Death always looms on the horizon.”
“Stop it,” she hissed. “You know what I mean. The job was meant to be quick. Easy. What happened?” Her hands shook at her sides.
Illario’s brow furrowed, and the muscles of his jaw twitched nervously beneath his smooth skin.
She wanted to slap him. Knowing Illario, he had screwed something up, and Lucanis had swooped in to protect him. And now...
“Maker,” she choked out through a hoarse sob.
Illario seemed to be at a loss, hesitating, before he pulled her into a hug. She let him hold her, but only for a few seconds before she gathered herself and shoved him away.
“We need to see Caterina. Now.” Mari spun on her heel, and her feathered cloak billowed out behind her, the dagger at her hip burning, yearning for blood.
~O~
Lucanis came to in a dank, suffocating cell. The air was damp and stale, carrying the faint metallic tang of rust and blood. He tried to move, but his body refused to cooperate. He was on his knees and the rough stone floor bit into his skin. Thick chains bound his wrists and ankles, and the heavy cuffs dug into his flesh. There was only enough slack for him to sit upright, but every move he made sent the clink of iron reverberating through the dreary silence.
His armor, his weapons… everything was gone. He was stripped down to a ruddy tan shirt and tattered pants, threadbare and riddled with holes. His breath was labored and shallow as he fought to gather his wits, his mind sluggish. He didn’t know how long he had been out or what had happened exactly, but the creeping sense of panic in his chest only grew stronger with every passing second.
“Mierda,” he muttered.
At the sound of heels clicking, getting closer to the door, Lucanis tensed. The cell door groaned open, like nails scraping against his nerves.
Zara Renata stepped into the flickering light overhead. She was wearing a ridiculously tight, red leather suit that hugged every curve. She crouched in front of him, meeting him with the cruelty of her gaze and a smug grin on her lips.
"Ah, finally awake," she said, mocking, as though she were speaking to an unruly child.
Before Lucanis could say a thing, two of her men came in behind her, grabbing him roughly by the shoulders and forcing him to sit upright. He thrashed weakly, but the chains and his own exhaustion betrayed him.
“Relax,” Zara crooned, producing a small vial of a glowing, pink liquid. The viscous contents glimmered ominously, and a sickeningly sweet scent wafted over to him as she uncorked it.
“What is that?” he rasped, trying to pull away, but Zara simply smiled, inching closer.
“Something to remind you of your place,” she said, gripping his jaw with cold, iron-like fingers and forcing his mouth open. “Demon of Vyrantium,” she laughed. "What a joke."
Lucanis tried summoning the last vestiges of his strength, refusing to make it easy for her, but she tilted the vial and poured the liquid down his throat. He gagged as the vile taste coated his tongue, sliding down like acid.
His veins ignited almost instantly, the sensation burning and spreading like molten lava through his body. He gasped, his head snapping back as the pain overtook him. The room blurred, spinning violently, and his body went slack against the hold Zara’s men had on him.
The last thing he saw was her satisfied smirk fading into the encroaching darkness.
Yet before the skull-splitting headache claimed him, a ghost of warmth cut through the agony. Marielena’s smile, warm, teasing, and her throaty whisper echoing in his mind. “Mi rey.”
Then, there was nothing but the void.