Page 22 of Unbearable Attraction (Hollow Oak Mates #4)

LEENAH

T he workshop door stood slightly ajar when Leenah arrived, warm light spilling into the November darkness along with the familiar scent of cedar shavings and wood polish.

She could see Luka inside, his broad shoulders tense as he worked over a piece of oak with more force than precision, each stroke of his chisel carrying the frustration she'd left him with hours earlier.

Her anger had cooled during the walk from her cottage, but it hadn't disappeared entirely.

She was still furious with him for pushing past her boundaries, still resentful of the way he'd demanded answers she wasn't ready to give.

But underneath the anger was something deeper, more honest: the uncomfortable knowledge that he'd been right about everything.

She knocked softly on the doorframe, and he looked up, his eyes holding a mixture of surprise and wariness that made her heart clench with regret.

"I wasn't sure you'd come," he said quietly, setting down his tools.

"I wasn't sure either." She stepped inside, pulling the door closed behind her. "But we need to talk."

"About the ritual you're planning?" His voice carried no accusation, just tired resignation. "Or about the fact that you'd rather risk your life than trust me with the truth?"

The gentle observation hit harder than any angry words could have. "Both, I guess."

Luka moved closer, close enough that she could see the exhaustion in his features, the way their fight had carved new lines of worry around his eyes. "I'm sorry for pushing you. For making demands instead of asking questions."

The apology she hadn't expected caught her off guard. "I'm sorry for shutting you out. For making you feel like your concern didn't matter."

"It's not about my feelings mattering," he said softly. "It's about yours. About the fact that you'd rather face unknown dangers alone than risk depending on someone who might let you down."

The accuracy made her throat tight with emotions she'd been avoiding. "You were right, you know. About the ritual being dangerous. About me planning something stupid."

"I don't care about being right." Luka's voice dropped. "I care about you coming home safe."

"Luka," she whispered, stepping closer until she could feel the heat radiating from his skin.

"Yeah?"

Instead of answering with words, she reached up and pulled his mouth down to hers.

The kiss was everything their first had been and more—hungry, desperate, full of everything they'd both been holding back.

He tasted like coffee and determination and something uniquely him that made her pulse race with want.

His lips were rough and gentle all at once, demanding and giving in equal measure.

His hands settled on her waist with obvious hesitation, as if he was afraid she might pull away again. But she was done pulling away, done pretending that the fire between them was something she could ignore or control.

"Don't stop," she breathed against his mouth. "Please don't stop."

That seemed to break the last of his restraint. He pulled her against the solid warmth of his chest as he deepened the kiss that made her knees weak. She could feel his heart hammering against her palm, could taste the desperation in his kiss that matched her own.

"Leenah," he groaned, her name a prayer on his lips as she pressed kisses to the column of his throat. "Are you sure?"

"I've never been more sure of anything," she replied, meaning every word. This felt right in a way nothing ever had before, like coming home after years of wandering.

His hands found the zipper of her jacket, sliding it down with careful movements that spoke to his reverence for this moment, for her. When the fabric fell away, followed by her sweater, his amber eyes darkened with an hunger that made heat pool low in her belly.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion and desire.

Before she could respond, he was lifting her, cradling her against his chest like she was something fragile he’d carved with his own hands—something breakable, irreplaceable.

Leenah’s breath hitched as he carried her up the worn wooden stairs to the loft above his workshop.

The scent of cedar followed them, wrapping around her like a memory.

His body was heat and muscle beneath her fingertips, the flannel brushing her bare arms as she clung to him.

She pressed kisses along his jaw, slow and lingering. “You always smell like the forest after rain,” she murmured against his stubble. He groaned in response, the sound vibrating through his chest and into her bones.

The bedroom welcomed them with warm shadows and silvery moonlight spilling across honey-colored floors.

The curtains—soft gauze—fluttered slightly in the draft, adding movement to the stillness.

The bed, wide and low, stood like an invitation.

A haven. He set her down beside it with careful, reverent hands, as if he didn’t trust the ground to keep her safe.

His fingers cradled her face as he kissed her again, slow and deep, full of aching want and unspoken things. His lips were chapped but gentle, and when she opened to him, he sighed like he’d been holding his breath for days.

“Leenah,” he whispered against her mouth, voice thick. “I know it’s too soon, I know it complicates everything, but I can’t pretend anymore. I?—”

“Don’t,” she whispered, brushing her fingers over his lips. “Not yet. Just… be here.”

Their clothes disappeared between slow kisses and hands that memorized instead of claimed.

He peeled her layers away like unwrapping a secret, every button undone with care.

Her cardigan slipped from her shoulders, her sweater following with a whisper of fabric.

His amber eyes darkened as more of her was revealed, hunger flaring—but he didn’t rush.

His restraint was a tether, and she felt the tension humming beneath it.

“You’re beautiful,” he rasped, voice gravel and reverence. He bent to kiss the moon tattoo behind her ear, his breath warm. “You undo me.”

She touched the hem of his shirt, pushing it up slowly, fingertips grazing over the ridges of his abs.

Luka helped her, dragging it over his head and tossing it aside, revealing the breadth of him.

His chest was a landscape of old scars and solid muscle, dusky skin dusted with dark hair.

Her eyes caught on the claw marks that curved over his left forearm—his clan’s final gift, and his burden.

She ran her hand across them, featherlight. “You’re a storm in human skin,” she said, awed. “And you don’t even know it.”

He smiled, but it was bittersweet. “Then you’re the lightning that keeps striking.”

He laid her back on the bed, following her down with slow, measured weight, his massive form covering hers. She felt tiny beneath him, yet never safer. When his hands roamed her bare stomach and up to her breasts, she arched, gasping.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, thumb brushing over her nipple until it peaked under his touch.

“So are you.” Her voice trembled, not from fear, but from the overwhelming depth of it all—how it wasn’t just her body that felt exposed. Her soul was bare too.

He kissed her neck, finding the place just below her ear that made her hips roll upward without conscious thought. She moaned, wrapping her arms around him, her fingers threading through the silver-streaked strands of his thick hair.

“Tell me what you want,” he said into her throat.

“You,” she whispered, breathless. “Just you. All of you.”

His mouth found her breast, tongue flicking over the hardened peak, and she cried out, her back arching off the bed. Heat rushed to her core, and her thighs instinctively parted to cradle his hips. Every part of her body screamed for more.

“Luka… please…”

He kissed his way lower, pausing at her belly as if to breathe her in.

Then he rose, pulling his jeans off with jerky movements, revealing a thick cock that made her swallow hard.

He was beautiful—massive, just like the rest of him, veined and heavy, the flushed tip already glistening with need. Her breath caught.

His gaze was locked on hers. “If you want me to stop?—”

“I don’t,” she cut in. “I want you inside me. Now.”

He moved over her again, settling between her thighs with a care that didn’t match the feral look in his eyes. His cock brushed her entrance, thick and hot, and she gasped, body clenching in anticipation.

He pressed in slowly, the head breaching her with exquisite pressure.

“Oh, gods—Luka?—”

Her pussy stretched around him inch by thick inch, heat flooding through her as he sank deeper. He was huge. The burn was real, but so was the pleasure. Her hands clutched at his back, nails digging into solid muscle as he eased all the way in.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “You feel… Leenah, you feel like heaven and sin.”

He held still once fully seated, letting her adjust. She could feel every pulse of his cock inside her, the deep stretch, the intimacy of it. She wrapped her legs around his waist, locking him to her.

“Okay?” he asked, voice raw.

“More than okay,” she whispered, and rocked her hips against his. “Perfect.”

He began to move—slow at first, rolling his hips with a control that made her whimper. His cock dragged along her walls, every motion igniting more fire inside her.

“Gods,” she moaned. “You fill me so deep, Luka. I can feel you everywhere.”

“I’m trying to go slow,” he groaned, jaw tight, muscles flexing. “But you’re so tight… so warm… fuck, Leenah.”

“Don’t hold back,” she gasped, clutching him. “I want to feel everything. All of you.”

He obeyed with a growl, his thrusts growing deeper, more urgent. The sound of skin meeting skin filled the room, mingling with their gasps and moans. Her pussy clenched around him with each stroke, drawing him in tighter, wetter.

“Look at me,” he said roughly, cupping her face as he moved inside her. “I want to see your eyes when you come.”

Their gazes locked, and it undid her. The emotion in his expression—love, need, fear, reverence—pushed her to the edge. Her body tensed, her breath caught?—

And then she shattered.

Her orgasm ripped through her like lightning through old stone. She cried out, bucking beneath him, her pussy pulsing around his cock in desperate waves. Her hands scrabbled at his back, needing him closer, deeper, more.

“Fuck, Leenah—” Luka cursed and drove in one last time, holding there as his own climax hit. He buried his face in her neck with a groan, his cock throbbing inside her as he spilled into her warmth.

They trembled together, the air between them thick with sweat and breath and something deeper. Something binding.

He collapsed beside her, tugging her against him with an arm that felt like a shield.

Leenah curled into him, heart still thudding. “That was…”

“Everything,” he finished hoarsely, pressing a kiss to her temple.

As she laid there in his arms, more safe and at ease then she had ever felt before, guilt started to well into her chest.

She had just shared more intimacy with Luka than anyone. More about herself and he accepted her, but deep down she knew that it meant, more than ever, that she couldn’t involve him in what she had to do.

It wasn’t because she had to do it alone…

But because she was in love with him and this may be the only way to protect him.