Chapter 140: Trust and Surrender
The warm jazz saxophone drifted from Ravyn's speakers as Lucien lay beside her on the rumpled sheets, the scent of their sweat and sex still thick in the air, mingling with stale incense and coffee grounds. Her fingers traced idle circles on his damp chest. "That was..." she started, then paused, searching his face. "Intense." Her dark eyes held a question.
Lucien swallowed, the memory of Dante pinning Adam flooding back: the choked gasps, the brutal rhythm, the raw power. He pushed himself up slightly, looking down at her flushed face, her lips swollen from kisses. "You said 'take control'," he murmured, the words feeling heavy. "Trust me."
Ravyn held his gaze, a flicker of heat reigniting in her eyes. "I do," she breathed, pushing herself up, her soft curves pressing against him. "Show me."
He moved without conscious thought, rolling her swiftly onto her back, pinning her wrists above her head with one strong hand, mirroring Dante’s possessive hold. Her breath hitched, not from fear, but anticipation. He leaned down, his lips crashing against hers in a fierce kiss, his free hand sliding down her body – not to caress, but to claim. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her inner thigh, pushing her legs apart roughly. The scent of her arousal bloomed fresh and potent. He broke the kiss, his eyes boring into hers. "Mine," he growled, the word rough, primal.
He shifted position, kneeling between her splayed legs, his hard cock already jutting against her hip. He saw Adam's wide, shocked eyes in his mind, heard Dante's ragged command. Lucien’s hand shot out, wrapping firmly, tightly, around Ravyn’s throat. Her eyes flew wide for a split second, then fluttered half-closed as a low, desperate moan vibrated against his tightening fingers. She arched her back, pressing her breasts against him, her hips lifting off the bed in silent demand.
He released her throat only to grab a fistful of her thick black hair, yanking her head back sharply, exposing the long line of her neck. She cried out, a sound of pure, sharp pleasure. "Fuck me, Lucien!" she gasped, her voice strained. "Fuck me hard! Now!"
He didn’t hesitate. Guiding himself with rough urgency, he slammed his cock deep into her slick, swollen heat, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. Ravyn screamed, her body convulsing around him, impossibly tight. "Oh GOD! Yes! Right fucking there!"
He started fucking her with deep, punishing strokes, just like he remembered, his hips pistoning ruthlessly. Each powerful drive forced choked gasps from her, her legs wrapping tightly around his waist, trying to take him even deeper. The headboard slammed rhythmically against the wall in time with his thrusts. Sweat dripped from his brow onto her heaving chest. He squeezed her throat again, watching her eyes roll back slightly, her mouth open in a silent scream of ecstasy. "Harder!" she managed to rasp, her nails raking bloody furrows down his back. "Fucking ruin me!" He obeyed, slamming into her with everything he had, lost in the raw, dark power of it, the sounds of their coupling – wet slaps, ragged gasps, the creaking bed – drowning out the jazz. Her inner muscles clenched around him like a velvet vise, pulling him deeper, demanding more as she writhed beneath his dominating force.
Her inner muscles clenched around him like a velvet vise, pulling him deeper, demanding more as she writhed beneath his dominating force. The raw friction was electric, a punishing drag against his rigid cock that scraped every nerve raw. "Christ, you're fucking tight," Lucien snarled, the words ripped from his throat, the image of Dante's powerful thrusts driving into Adam flashing behind his eyes, feeding his own brutality. He slammed into her again, deep and unforgiving, the wet slap of their joining echoing louder than the muted trumpet solo. Ravyn’s choked scream dissolved into a guttural moan, her hips bucking wildly to meet each punishing impact. Her fingers clawed desperately at his shoulders, then tangled in his hair, pulling his face down to hers.
Their mouths collided, teeth clicking, tongues warring fiercely, a desperate counterpoint to the savage rhythm pounding below. He tasted salt – sweat, maybe tears – mixing with the dark coffee on her breath. Breaking the kiss, Lucien planted a forearm beside her head, using the leverage to piston into her harder, deeper, the bed frame protesting violently with each stroke. "Take it," he commanded, his voice gravel, his grip tightening on her throat again, cutting off her air just enough. Her eyes flew wide, pupils blown black, sheer ecstasy warring with panic for a heartbeat before pure abandon won.
"Fuck... yes... choke me... harder!" she gasped out, her voice strained, ragged, as he eased the pressure just a fraction. The command ignited him. He re-engaged his grip, firmer this time, watching the veins stand out on her temple, her beautiful face flushing darker. "You like that?" he demanded, hammering into her slick core, the sensation bordering on pain for him now, a blinding intensity. "Like being fucking owned?" Ravyn could only manage a strangled whimper, her body convulsing around him, her cunt clamping down rhythmically, milking his cock. "Tell me!" he roared, releasing her throat to grab a fistful of her hair again, yanking her head back savagely.
"Yours!" she shrieked, the word torn from her, tears finally spilling over as her orgasm detonated, shaking her violently. "Fucking... yours! Please!" Her inner walls clamped down like a crushing fist, a pulsing, demanding suction that dragged a ragged groan from his own chest. He felt his own control shatter, the coil in his gut snapping violently. With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself to the root, grinding deep as the first hot spurt erupted, jetting deep inside her clenching heat. "Oh, God... Ravyn..." His voice was a broken gasp as he emptied himself, pulse after pulse, his body shuddering violently with the force of it, collapsing his weight onto her trembling frame. The scent of sex, sweat, and dark revelation hung thick and heavy in the lamplit room.
The scent of sex, sweat, and dark revelation hung thick and heavy in the lamplit room. Lucien felt Ravyn’s racing heartbeat under his palm, her sweat-slick skin cooling rapidly against his own. He shifted his weight off her trembling body, the air suddenly sharp against his overheated skin. Her dark eyes, glazed and unfocused, blinked slowly up at the ceiling.
Without a word, Lucien slid down the bed, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses over the swell of her belly, tasting salt and her unique musk. He settled between her parted thighs, the intoxicating scent of her arousal, musky and rich, flooding his senses. She whimpered softly, a shudder running through her as his breath ghosted over her swollen, glistening folds. "Fuck, Lucien... your mouth," she breathed, her voice wrecked, her fingers tangling hesitantly in his hair.
He didn't hesitate, burying his face in her wet heat, his tongue finding her clit immediately and circling it with firm, relentless pressure. He licked broad, flat strokes through her soaked cleft, gathering her tangy slickness, then focused back on the tight bud, sucking it hard into his mouth. "Oh fuck! Yes! Just like that!" Ravyn gasped, her hips jerking off the mattress, her thighs clamping around his ears. He pinned her hips down with strong hands, burying his face deeper, his tongue plunging inside her cunt, fucking her with it, tasting her deeply.
He worked her relentlessly, alternating between sucking her clit like a ripe berry and spearing her opening with his tongue, feeling her inner muscles flutter desperately around the intrusion. Her cries grew higher, sharper, her body bowing tight as a wire. "I'm gonna... Lucien! Oh God, I'm gonna cum!" she shrieked, her voice cracking. He doubled down, sucking hard and flicking his tongue rapidly over her clit until her orgasm ripped through her – a raw, guttural scream tearing from her throat as her body bucked violently under his mouth, her cunt gushing hot over his chin.
He doubled down, sucking hard and flicking his tongue rapidly over her clit until her orgasm ripped through her – a raw, guttural scream tearing from her throat as her body bucked violently under his mouth, her cunt gushing hot over his chin. He didn't stop. His tongue kept working her sensitive clit, relentless, as a single finger, thick and probing, slid deep into her slick, convulsing channel. "Fucking hell, Lucien!" she gasped, her body arching again instantly, overwhelmed but craving more.
He curled that finger upwards, finding the rough spot inside her, rubbing it firmly while his mouth sucked her swollen bud. Her moans turned into desperate, high-pitched cries. His tongue flicked harder, faster, a wet counterpoint to the methodical pressure of his finger. "Oh god... oh fuck... yes... right THERE!" she chanted, her voice cracking, her hands fisting the sheets.
He slid a second finger deep inside her pulsing heat, stretching her wide, then a third, filling her impossibly full. "That's it, baby," he growled against her clit, his voice thick with her taste, "Take all of me." Her choked gasp turned into a ragged sob of pleasure, her hips grinding down onto his invading fingers, seeking more friction, deeper pressure. He curled them hard, relentlessly rubbing that rough, spongy spot inside her while his tongue lashed her swollen clit with furious precision. "Fuck! Lucien! Oh fuck, baby!" she screamed, her thighs clamping like a vise around his head, her entire body locking rigid for one endless, suspended second before shattering. Her orgasm hit like a freight train, a raw, guttural wail tearing from her throat as her cunt convulsed violently around his fingers, drenching his chin and neck in a hot gush. "Yes! God, yes! Cumming! Cumming!" He kept his mouth locked on her, drinking her release, fingers still pistoning deep, dragging out every last tremor, every pulsing clench until she collapsed back onto the sheets, gasping, utterly spent, her limbs trembling.
He didn't let her rest. Pulling his fingers free with a slick sound, he watched her glistening folds pulse, swollen and inviting. "Look at you, baby," he murmured, his voice low and rough with awe, tracing a fingertip through her dripping wetness. "So fucking beautiful." He slid his fingers back inside her, three thick digits plunging deep, finding that spot instantly. "Already so fucking ready for me again." Ravyn whimpered, a sound caught between exhaustion and desperate need, her hips lifting weakly. "Please... Lucien... more..." He curled his fingers hard, pressing deep, rubbing in tight, demanding circles. "Cum for me again, baby," he commanded, his thumb finding her clit, pressing down hard and circling fast. "Right fucking now."
Her eyes flew wide, pure electric shock jolting through her. "OHHHH GOD!" The scream ripped out of her, raw and primal. Her back arched violently off the bed, every muscle straining taut. Her cunt clamped down on his fingers with crushing, rhythmic force, milking them desperately. "LUCIEN! LUCIEN!" His name became a frantic chant, torn from her throat with each convulsive pulse. Then it happened: a sudden, powerful gush of clear fluid erupted from her, soaking his hand, her thighs, the sheets beneath her in a hot, continuous stream. Her orgasm intensified, becoming a blinding, all-consuming wave that shook her violently, her cries dissolving into breathless, shuddering gasps as she kept moaning his name, over and over, lost in the sheer, overwhelming intensity. "Lucien... Lucien... baby..." Her body finally went limp, utterly wrecked, her chest heaving, the scent of sex and release thick and heavy in the warm, lamplit room.
Lucien slid off the bed, his legs shaky. He grabbed a damp washcloth from the adjoining bathroom sink, the cool water shocking against his overheated skin. Returning, he gently wiped Ravyn’s trembling thighs, cleaning away the sticky mess of sweat, her slick arousal, and his own release. "Easy, baby," he murmured, his voice rough but tender now, dabbing carefully at her swollen, sensitive flesh. He tossed the soiled cloth aside.
He found fresh sheets buried in Ravyn’s closet, soft cotton smelling faintly of lavender. He stripped the wet, tangled mess off the bed efficiently. Ravyn watched him, her dark eyes heavy-lidded, a small, exhausted smile touching her lips as he smoothed the clean sheets over the mattress. "C'mere," he said softly, lifting her easily, her body pliant against his chest. He laid her down gently on the cool, fresh linen.
He slid in beside her, pulling her close, her back molded against his front. His arm draped possessively over her waist, his hand resting low on her belly. He nuzzled the damp hair at her temple. "You did so fucking good, Rav," he breathed, his lips brushing her skin. "So perfect for me." Her sigh was deep, contented, as she melted into his warmth, her breathing slowing, syncing with his. The lamplight cast soft shadows, the jazz a distant hum.
A sudden, sharp drop in temperature sliced through the cozy warmth. The air crackled, thick with ozone and the faint, acrid tang of brimstone. Lucien sat bolt upright, a low growl rumbling in his chest before he was fully conscious. His eyes blazed crimson, pupils slitted like a predator’s, scanning the dim corners of the room with lethal intensity. Ravyn gasped, scrambling upright, her fingers digging into his bare arm, her fear a cold spike jabbing into his awareness – a sensation utterly new, terrifyingly intimate.
He didn't know how he felt it, but her terror was a physical pressure against his mind. "Shh," he rasped, his glowing eyes still darting, muscles coiled. Then he saw him. A sigh, heavy with profound relief, escaped Lucien’s lips, the crimson light in his eyes flickering out instantly. Ravyn followed his gaze, her breath catching in a choked gasp. The man stood near her dresser, impossibly tall and imposing.
Curved obsidian horns swept back from his temples, gleaming under the lamp. His eyes were molten gold, ancient and assessing. Massive, leathery wings, the color of midnight, were folded tightly against the back of his impeccably tailored midnight-black suit. Every detail screamed power barely contained, from the sharp line of his jaw to the polished gleam of his shoes on her worn rug. He radiated terrifying authority.
Ravyn instinctively pressed closer to Lucien, trembling. Lucien felt the renewed surge of her fear, sharp and bright. He covered her hand on his arm with his own. "It's okay," he said, his voice steadying, turning back to the figure. "It's my dad." Dante’s golden gaze swept over the tangled sheets, the discarded washcloth, Lucien’s bare chest, Ravyn clinging to him, her own nakedness barely concealed by the sheet pooled around her hips. His expression was unreadable granite.
"Kid…" Dante’s voice was deep, resonant, vibrating in the small room. "...what the fuck?" Lucien blinked, genuine confusion washing over his face. "What?" Ravyn stayed utterly still, frozen beside him. Dante’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "I've been worried sick about you," he stated, the words clipped, carrying an edge Lucien rarely heard.
Lucien frowned, the post-sex haze warring with sudden irritation. "Why? I’m ok, Dad. I’m fine." Dante let out another sigh, heavier this time, laced with exasperation and something deeper, darker. "I asked you to stay at my place for a reason," he emphasized, his golden eyes locking onto Lucien’s. "Someone’s looking for you. I have to make sure you’re safe." He paused, the weight of the unspoken hanging thick. "If he gets you…"
Lucien cut him off quickly, the reality dawning, a flicker of guilt replacing confusion. "It’s ok, Dad. I’ll come back. I didn’t mean to worry you." His voice softened. "I didn’t think about it like that." Dante’s gaze shifted pointedly to Ravyn, then back to Lucien, lingering for a heartbeat. His expression softened a fraction. "She can come too," he offered, his tone pragmatic. "If she’s okay with it. Or visit. Whatever you two want. I’ll wait in the hall." He glanced pointedly at a sleek watch on his wrist. "Five minutes to figure it out." Without another word, he turned, the air shimmering faintly around him, and walked out, closing the apartment door softly behind him.
Silence crashed back in, thick and charged. Ravyn stared at the closed door, then slowly turned wide, incredulous eyes to Lucien. "That’s… your dad?" Her voice was barely a whisper. Lucien ran a hand through his hair, a tired chuckle escaping him. "Yeah." Ravyn swallowed hard, her fingers still tight on his arm. "Not to be rude," she breathed, "but holy shit, Lucien… he looks terrifying." Lucien’s chuckle deepened into a soft laugh. "He is," he admitted, a fond warmth in his voice. "A fucking terrifying sweetheart. But only to people he gives a damn about." He turned fully to face her, his expression earnest. "Do you… want to come? Stay with us?" He squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Plenty of room. Dante won't hover. He'll be busy with Adam most of the time." Ravyn looked at the door, then back at Lucien, her initial fear replaced by wary curiosity and a fierce protectiveness she felt towards him. "Yes," she said decisively, pushing the sheet aside. "I'm coming. Let me grab some things." She scrambled off the bed, heading for her closet. Lucien nodded, relief washing over him. He slid off the bed, pulling on his discarded jeans quickly. He opened the apartment door a crack. Dante stood leaning against the hallway wall, wings now vanished, looking every inch the imposing businessman waiting impatiently. "She's coming," Lucien said simply. "Getting her stuff." Dante gave a single, curt nod. "Okay."
Ravyn emerged clutching a small duffel bag, her eyes wide as she took in Dante’s imposing presence leaning against the peeling hallway wallpaper. "Ready," she breathed, her knuckles white on the bag's strap. Dante didn't speak, merely extended a hand towards them both; the air thickened, smelling suddenly of ozone and cold stone, and Ravyn gasped as the cramped apartment hallway dissolved into swirling darkness.
They solidified instantly on cool, polished marble beneath the soaring, vaulted ceilings of Dante’s mansion foyer. Ravyn stumbled slightly, Lucien’s arm instantly steadying her waist. "Easy," he murmured, his voice low. Dante adjusted his cufflinks, the obsidian horns now vanished, his golden eyes assessing them. "Kid," he said, his tone clipped, "once you’re settled, find me.Need a quick word." Lucien nodded, a flicker of unease crossing his face."Okay."
He led Ravyn down a wide corridor lined with dark, ancient-looking tapestries, the air scented faintly of cedar and something indefinably powerful. Stopping before a heavy oak door, Lucien pushed it open. Ravyn stepped inside and froze, her duffel bag slipping from her fingers to thud softly on the thick Persian rug. The room was vast, dominated by a massive four-poster bed draped in black silk, one entire wall was floor-to-ceiling glass overlooking a moonlit, impossible garden filled with obsidian sculptures and glowing, exotic flowers. "Holy shit," she whispered, turning slowly, taking in the roaring fireplace, the shelves of leather-bound books, the sleek, modern sound system seamlessly integrated. "This... this is your room?"Lucien leaned against the doorframe, watching her awe. "Yeah."Ravyn turned back to him, her dark eyes wide with disbelief. "Who is your dad, Lucien?"The question hung heavy. Lucien hesitated, his throat tightening; he’d never been asked directly, the name itself a loaded weapon. He worried it would send her running, screaming, even though he knew Dante wasn’t the monstrous caricature whispered about in terrified circles. Her gaze softened, seeing his tension. She crossed the space quickly, closing the distance, and placed a warm hand gently over his where it rested on the doorframe."What’s wrong?"she asked softly.
He swallowed, the words sticking. "I’m worried," he admitted, his voice rough, "if I tell you... you won’t want to see me anymore." Her answer was immediate, fierce, her eyes locking onto his."Not possible."The conviction in her voice loosened the knot in his chest. He took a breath."Dante Morningstar."Ravyn blinked.Once.Twice. Her lips parted slightly. A brief, profound bafflement washed over her features, then cleared like mist, replaced by dawning understanding. "That..." she breathed, a slow nod accompanying her words, "...actually makes perfect sense." A hint of a smile touched her lips. "You both give off serious Morningstar vibes."Lucien frowned slightly, a crease appearing between his brows. "Is that... a bad thing?"
She lifted her free hand, her touch feather-light as her fingertips traced his jawline before sliding around to cradle the back of his neck. Her dark eyes held his, unwavering."No," she stated, simple and absolute. Then she pulled his head down, her lips meeting his in a kiss that was quick but deep, passionate, a silent promise sealing her words.She pulled back just enough to speak, her breath warm against his mouth. "Go talk to your dad, really quick."Her thumb stroked the sensitive skin behind his ear. "I’ll be waiting." Lucien smiled, a genuine, relieved curve of his lips, before turning and heading back down the corridor towards the living room.
The sound of deep, rumbling laughter greeted him before he reached the arched doorway. Peering in, he saw Dante sprawled in a massive leather armchair near the crackling fire, Adam perched on the armrest beside him, both men grinning, Adam nudging Dante’s shoulder as he finished whatever joke had been told.Adam spotted Lucien first, his smile widening as he nudged Dante again. Dante looked over, his golden eyes sharpening. "Come here, really quick, kid," Dante commanded, his voice cutting through the lingering amusement.
Lucien walked over, the plush carpet muffling his steps, and sat cautiously on the edge of the matching sofa opposite them. Dante leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze direct, uncomfortably so. "Not gonna make this awkward," Dante stated, though the air instantly thickened with tension."Got one thing to say." He paused, his eyes boring into Lucien’s."You better be using fuckin' protection."
Lucien blinked, genuine confusion clouding his face."What're you talking about?" Dante’s expression hardened into disbelief. "Motherfucker," he growled, the word sharp."You're sleeping with her and don't know what protection is?" Heat flooded Lucien’s cheeks. "I'm... learning shit as I go," he mumbled, defensive.Dante stared at him, utterly dumbfounded, his mouth slightly agape. Adam cut in sharply before Dante could explode."Dante, shut the fuck up." He turned to Lucien, his expression serious but less intimidating than Dante’s fury. "You need to get condoms," Adam stated plainly."Unless you're ready for a kid." He held Lucien’s gaze."Are you ready for a kid?"Lucien’s answer was immediate, horrified. "No!"He hesitated, the unfamiliar word sticking on his tongue. "...What’s a condom?" Dante let out a harsh breath, running a hand over his face, but Adam shot him a warning look. Dante leaned back, forcing his voice into a calmer, explanatory tone, though the underlying exasperation vibrated through it. He described the thin latex sheath, its purpose bluntly stated: preventing pregnancy and disease. Lucien listened, the implications crashing down.His stomach clenched. "Well," he said, his voice tight, "I might be fucked."
Dante’s expression softened minutely, a flicker of something almost like sympathy crossing his features."Maybe," he conceded gruffly. "Maybe not."He leaned forward again, his gaze intense."Play it safe this point forward." Reaching beside his chair, Dante picked up a small, unopened cardboard box and tossed it underhand towards Lucien.It landed softly in his lap. Lucien stared at the box, the word "CONDOMS" printed boldly across it.
Dante looked at his son, the fierce protectiveness momentarily overriding the frustration."That's it, kid," he said, his voice dropping lower, almost gentle. "Just play it safe." He held Lucien’s gaze, the ancient weight in his golden eyes undeniable. "You got any questions about fucking anything," Dante emphasized, "even if you think it’s embarrassing?It’s not.Come to either of us and ask." Lucien nodded, clutching the box."Okay." He stood up, the box feeling heavy in his hand, and turned to head back towards his room, towards Ravyn, the unfamiliar weight of responsibility settling onto his shoulders alongside the lingering heat of desire.