Page 109 of Shadow Waltz

Ayan stayed inside me for a moment, catching his breath, hands still possessive on my hips. Antoni leaned in, pressing a kiss to my forehead, voice softer now. “You did so good, Ash. You took it all. Beautiful.”

Ayan eased out of me with a deep, rumbling groan, his hands gentle now as he squeezed my hips before finally letting go. I felt the mess drip down my thighs, my skin sticky with sweat and come, my heart still thundering in my chest. Antoni offered a hand, steadying me as I staggered to my feet, every muscle loose and boneless, like I’d been unraveled and remade.

He brushed his knuckles along my jaw, eyes soft. “You’re a fucking marvel, you know that?” His praise sent a warm glow through my battered body, enough to help me find my footing.

Ayan, already pulling on his black slacks, flashed me a rare, crooked smile, all wolf and smoke. “Not bad for a pretty boy,” he said, straightening his shirt and tucking it in like none ofthis had fazed him. I caught the edge of something in his gaze—satisfaction, respect, maybe even a grudging affection—but he said nothing more, just buckled his belt and ran a big, callused hand through his sweat-damp hair.

I found my underwear tangled on the floor, stepped shakily into them, and managed to pull on my jeans, my body still thrumming with leftover adrenaline. Antoni helped me slide my arms into the jacket—the one that had started this whole mess—then pressed a final, approving palm to my chest, right over my heart.

“Suit will be delivered tomorrow,” he promised, his mouth quirking into a conspiratorial grin. “And don’t worry about the bill. This one’s on the house.” He winked at me, and I couldn’t help the crooked, tired grin I gave back.

As I made my way down the stairs, the world still felt off-kilter, the edges too bright, every nerve ending exposed. I ran a hand through my hair, trying and failing to smooth myself into something presentable. But nothing could hide the flush in my cheeks, the swollen mouth, the marks blooming under my collar and down my throat. I looked ruined, and I loved it.

Troy and Dmitri were waiting in the lobby, wearing the bored expressions of men who’d seen it all. The moment they saw me, though, their masks slipped. Dmitri’s mouth stretched into a shit-eating grin, and Troy’s eyebrow arched so high I thought it might leave his forehead.

“Well, well, well,” Dmitri drawled, falling into step beside me as we walked toward the car. “Somebody had a good fitting. You need help walking, Ash? Or you just limping for dramatic effect?”

Troy kept a straight face, but his voice was all smug amusement. “Should we start referring to you as Mr. On-the-House now? Or maybe just ‘Lucky Bastard?’”

I rolled my eyes, ducking my head, but I couldn’t quite suppress the smile that tugged at my lips. “You two ever think about minding your own business?”

“Not when you come out looking like you just got hit by a pleasure truck,” Dmitri shot back, nudging me toward the back seat. “Get in, superstar. Try not to stain the upholstery.”

They kept up the teasing all the way to the car, their banter relentless but somehow affectionate. I let them have their fun; after what had just happened upstairs, nothing could touch the warm ache in my bones or the raw satisfaction humming under my skin.

I’d barely settled into the back seat when my phone buzzed, Luka’s name lighting up the screen. Troy threw me a look in the rearview, all sly approval, before rolling up the privacy screen.

I answered, breath still a little shaky. “Hey.”

Luka’s voice was velvet and iron, every syllable possessive. “Ash. How was the fitting?”

I swallowed, licking my lips, trying to sound casual. “Eventful.”

A pause—just long enough for me to picture his sharp smile. “Eventful is good. Was Antoni accommodating?”

Images flashed in my mind—Antoni’s hands, his mouth, the way he’d looked at me like I was the only thing in the room. My cheeks burned, and I forced my voice steady. “Let’s just say he made sure everything… fit perfectly.”

Luka chuckled, low and knowing. “I’d expect nothing less from him. Did you thank him properly?”

“More than once,” I murmured, grinning despite myself.

There was a beat of silence, then Luka’s voice softened, velvet wrapping steel. “Good. I want you to feel at home in everything I give you, Ash. You deserve the best.”

I sank back in the seat, letting the city blur past outside the tinted windows, every muscle aching in the best possible way.Dmitri shot me a look in the rearview, mouth twitching in a secret smile.

Luka’s voice was a promise, a claim, a threat to anyone who would dare touch what was his. “I’ll see you tonight. Rest up, Ash. You’ve earned it.”

18

BIRTHDAY SUIT

ASH

Ifound Luka in his private study, silk shirt unbuttoned at the collar, reading what looked like financial reports with the same intensity most people reserved for life-or-death decisions. The late afternoon light streaming through bulletproof windows turned his hair to burnished gold, and for a moment I just stood in the doorway, struck by how effortlessly he commanded attention even when he was alone.

“Are you going to stand there cataloguing my aesthetic appeal, or are you going to come in?” he asked without looking up from his papers.

Heat flooded my cheeks. “How did you?—“