Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted - Chapter 384

Chapter 384: Lisa: I Want to Feel
LISA

There’s a soft inhale.

Then, his lips move against mine with devastating gentleness. The emptiness inside me cracks, letting in a flood of sensation. His hands slide up my back, cradling me close as he rises to his full height. The towel drops, forgotten, as I press against the solid warmth of his chest.

My fingers curl into his wet shirt. His heart pounds beneath my palm, strong and steady and alive. So alive.

He breaks the kiss with obvious reluctance, pressing his forehead to mine. “Let’s get you dressed.”

The bedroom feels too bright and dry after the steam-filled bathroom. Kellan’s hands stay on my shoulders, steadying me as I shiver. He guides me to sit on the bed, then moves to the dresser.

“Arms up.”

I comply without thinking. The soft cotton of my shirt slides over my skin. His knuckles brush my ribs, sending sparks of awareness through my body.

“Lift.”

Another mindless response as he helps me into underwear, then flannel pants. Each touch leaves trails of heat that make me ache for more. I need his hands on me again. Need to feel connected to something real.

The mattress dips as he settles me under the thick comforter. “Try to rest.”

“Wait.” My voice comes out scratchy.

He doesn’t, taking a few steps away before unbuttoning his soaked shirt. The wet fabric peels away from his skin, revealing the muscled planes of his chest. Bruises. Cuts. Scars.

Water droplets trail down his abs as he turns to the dresser, distracting me from all the other things.

I watch him pull on dry clothes, my throat tight. The bed feels too empty, too cold. Too much space, practically begging intrusive thoughts to barge in.

“Stay with me?”

His shoulders tense. “That wouldn’t be wise.”

“Please.” I sit up, reaching toward him. The comforter pools around my waist. “I need you.”

My voice cracks on the last word. Kellan turns, his expression torn between desire and restraint as he stares at my outstretched hand.

The mattress shifts as Kellan sits, his weight creating a dip that draws me in like gravity. I don’t fight it. My body moves on instinct, seeking his warmth, his strength. My knees bracket his hips as I settle into his lap.

“Lisa.” My name comes out rough, almost pained.

I silence whatever protest he’s about to make with my mouth. No more words. No more thinking. Just this—the slide of my lips against his, demanding a response. His hands settle on my waist, neither pulling me closer nor pushing me away.

The emptiness inside me morphs into hunger. I nip at his bottom lip, drawing a sharp inhale from him. His fingers flex against my sides. The thin cotton of my shirt does nothing to mask the heat of his touch.

“I need this.” I break away just enough to speak against his mouth. “Need you.”

His control fractures. One hand slides up my back, tangling in my damp hair as he claims my mouth. The kiss is deep, desperate—everything I need to drown out the memories trying to surface.

It isn’t just Mira, you see.

It’s Bren, too.

And the lives I know they lost during the first massacre.

My parents, who have no idea I’m okay.

This new world of ours, filled with a daily struggle to survive.

I rock against Kellan, feeling the heat of his cock graze against me. Hard. Thick. A sensual promise that he can wipe all these horrible thoughts and feelings away, at least for a little while.

My hips rock faster, chasing the friction, the connection. His other hand grips my hip, guiding my movements. The soft flannel of my pants creates a maddening barrier between us.

“Please.” I don’t recognize my own voice, breathless and needy. “Make me feel something else. Anything else.”

Kellan growls, the sound vibrating through his chest where I press against him. His mouth trails fire down my neck, teeth grazing my pulse point. Every touch burns away another piece of the numbness, replacing it with liquid heat.

Between my thighs, I’m soaked. Already wanting him inside, dreaming of that stretch.

My fingers fumble with the hem of his shirt, desperate to feel skin on skin. He lets me pull it over his head, and I trace the planes of his chest, mapping each scar, each bruise. Proof that he survived. That he’s in front of me now.

His hands slip under my shirt, calloused palms sliding up my ribs. I arch into his touch, silently begging for more. When his thumbs brush the undersides of my breasts, a whimper escapes me.

“Lisa.” He pulls back, pupils blown wide with desire. “We should slow down.”

“No.” I roll my hips deliberately against him. “I don’t want to think. Just feel.”

I capture his mouth again, pouring all my need, my desperation into the kiss. His resistance crumbles beneath the onslaught. Those capable hands map my body like he’s memorizing every curve, every shiver, every gasp he draws from me.

No longer arguing, he pulls back only to yank my shirt over my head, letting my breasts swing free between us.

My nipples pebble in the cold, and he groans at the sight, before leaning in.

Kellan’s touch is fire and lightning. Teeth and tongue. My breasts tingle with sensation as he worships them with his mouth. My back bows, thrusting me harder against his cock.

In the wake of his lips, my skin feels almost painfully sensitive. But it’s a good hurt. A hurt that begs for more. More nip. More bite.

I have to fight against an insane urge to yank him up by his hair and shove his face into my neck. For some reason, I want him to bite me there.

Want it to hurt, to bleed, to mark me forever as his.

I get it now, this strange biting kink the wolves have. I want it, too.

He chuckles, the vibrations rolling through my chest, and I swear he just read my mind as he nibbles his way back up to my neck. He nips my pulse point again, sending sparks of awareness down my spine. Desire buzzes under my skin, leaving all of me tingly and panting.