Breaking Out (5 page)

“Lucian . . .” She repeated his name like a mantra, again and again, but out loud. With each vocalization of his name, he fucked her harder. His movements echoed his own manly cries. Grunts and moans filled the air over the slapping sound of sex. Her skin heated and her blood slowly boiled under the surface.

“Say it . . .” he demanded. “Say my name . . .”

“
Lucian
,” she shouted, her voice now hoarse as well.

“That's it. Say it. Know that I'm the only one who will ever touch you like this. Me, Evelyn.” He forced his cock deep, withdrew his thumb and blanketed her body with his weight. “Me.”

It was raw and it was coarse, but it was completely honest. His need for her flowed from his body to hers as his heart beat into her back. However she had imagined love, it was not this. This was not something soft and delicate, tied up in flowers and bows. This was wild and honest, durable and true. He loved her, and when his feelings poured out of him like this, it was so potent there was no denying they were real.

His breath beat at her shoulder. Her heart pounded into the bedding. He could be rough with her. She wouldn't break, and over time he had learned that. She smiled into the rumpled bedding as her body found contentment in this beautiful moment.

“You, Lucian. Only you.”

She gasped as he suddenly withdrew completely. Her body was lifted and flipped. Again, she was lying on her back. His hips pressed between hers and his cock slid home. Belly to belly, they each sobbed at the unbelievable pleasure of being connected in such an elemental manner. Anyone could fuck, but she found it hard to believe many people knew what this felt like.

The blindfold was stripped from her eyes and she blinked into the shadowy darkness of the room.

“Look at me.”

Lashes fluttering, she focused on the dark silhouette above her. As Lucian's messy black hair came into focus and his dark eyes bored into her, she had the wonderful sense of coming home. There was no need to search for others. They were alone. “I knew it was you,” she whispered with a smile.

“Always me, Evelyn. No one else.” His lips crashed down over hers and he delivered the most passionate kiss of her life. “I missed you today.”

“I missed you too.” Her knees drew up and cradled his hips. Fingers tugged at the silk tied to her wrists, and the fabric gave way. She fisted her fingers in the air, forcing the blood back into them, then reached for him.

Warm, damp muscle filled her grip as she dragged her nails over his broad shoulders. Grasping his arms, she stared at him. The words were there, but she couldn't say them. Fear that they might slip out had her leaning up to kiss him.

The urgency eased, but their need only grew. Slow intensity guided them. Her hands explored his body, gripped his neck, tugged at his hair. She latched her leg over his hip, ground her heel into his thigh, and they melded together as if they could somehow pass through each other.

Broad hands spanned her back, lifted her closer as he thrust deep. His strokes, now measured, were delivered in a way that said
never forget me.

She never would.

“I love you, Evelyn.”

Still unable to say the words, she pressed her face into his strong chest, gripped him with all the need and affection she had for him, the ever-present, all-consuming drive to be by him, with him, and showed her love the best she knew how.

Chapter 3

Breakfast of Champions

Evelyn's drowsy mind told her it wasn't quite morning before she opened her eyes. Something had awoken her. Soft sheets twisted over her body cushioned with pockets of heat. She stretched and instinctively reached for Lucian. When her hand came into contact with cooling emptiness, her eyes opened.

Frowning into the dark, she listened. In her mind, she saw him sitting in his chair, watching the early morning stillness just before daybreak crept in.

There is a quiet to night that only comes during the brief moment when the world is mostly asleep. Taxis are hidden away and even the nightingales have flown home. In a city like Folsom, these moments are fleeting and rare, yet Lucian seemed gifted in capturing them. As weightless as wishes drawn into a net, he somehow always knew exactly when these moments drifted by. They were as delicate as an untouched bed of new-fallen snow, and Lucian seemed to catch every single one before the world shattered that glimpse of quiet peace.

The condo was silent. She slid from their bed, cool marble pressing into her feet. Her arms slipped into her robe. Padding softly into the common area of the suite, she stilled at the edge of the hall. Lucian sat in his desk chair just as she expected him to be, posture at ease, ankles crossed, fingers steepled beneath his chin, facing the window.

The blackness of early morning showed his reflection in the glass. With the ease of sand falling through an hourglass, black faded into deep purple hues. He appeared deep in thought. She smiled, enjoying the sight of her intense, beautiful man.

Even beneath the frown rippling his brow, he was incredibly handsome. His bare chest was naturally muscled. His legs, clad in only black silk lounge pants, were strong and long.

Lucian often awoke at odd hours of the night. It wasn't uncommon to find him there, contemplating one business deal or another. Evelyn wasn't much help in that department. Maybe someday she could be. Right now she was working on learning to read, so that day was far off.

This was his time. She'd come to think that he awoke at such an early hour because it was the one time of day he would not be disturbed. Lucian's life was unendingly busy, yet at the same time, startlingly lonely. She didn't like to think about him sitting up in the middle of the night before she came to live with him. There was a sadness to Lucian she was still figuring out. She liked to think she was easing it, filling that hole camouflaged beneath the image of perfection, but she was never really sure.

She quietly padded over to him, smiling softly the moment he noticed her. The tension tightening his expression eased, and he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as if she were a welcome distraction.

His hand reached for her. “Hey, beautiful.”

“Hey.”

Evelyn lowered herself to the carpeted floor and rested her head on his thigh. His palm immediately ran over the length of her hair.

“Did I wake you?”

She shook her head, the silk of his pants a whisper beneath her cheek. “I couldn't find you.”

His sigh told her he had a lot on his mind. She wished she could ease his burdens, but most of Lucian's stress was far above her head.

“Did you have fun with Antoinette yesterday?” he asked, his fingers sifting softly through her hair.

She shut her eyes. “Mm-hm. Your sister sure likes to shop.”

He laughed quietly as he twirled a chestnut strand. “Your shopping bag was delivered. What did you get?”

Evelyn remembered the way Toni made fun of her purchases. “Nothing.”

“You got something. The bag felt heavy.”

She shrugged. “A vendor was selling some odds and ends I thought were neat. He looked a little down on his luck and I thought some of his merchandise was interesting so I paid him a hundred dollars for all of it. I think the most valuable thing I got was his gratitude. The rest is probably worthless, but it felt really good giving him that money.”

“Then mission accomplished. I give you spending money to enjoy; if giving it to that vendor brought you pleasure, I'm glad you did it.”

Her heart fluttered at his justification. He was always so accepting of her, even when she did weird stuff like pay a hundred dollars for a bag of rocks.

“Your sister thinks I'm nuts.”

“Toni's young.”

“She's my age, Lucian.”

“You've had more life experiences than most will ever see in their lifetime. Toni only knows what it is to live in the lap of luxury. She doesn't understand what it is to truly be hungry for more.”

She drew in a deep breath, pulling his comforting scent deep into her lungs. The sky on the other side of the glass had faded to a deep amethyst. They skipped dinner last night, spending the evening in bed making love and munching on muffins and breads Lucian always kept on hand. She was hungry.

As if reading her mind, he said, “How about I order some breakfast for us and you show me your purchases?”

“Okay.”

She stood and Lucian grabbed her hand. His dark gaze told her he wanted to tell her something. He looked at her for a long moment, but said nothing. Noticing the set of his eyes, she recognized a bit of the well-concealed sadness showing through.

“What is it?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing. I just . . . I'm glad you're here . . . with me.”

Warmth spread through her chest. Her lips curved. He had no idea how much he meant to her. Never before in her entire life had she put so much trust in another human being. Although she was terrified of admitting she loved him, afraid saying it would make it real and somehow more fragile, she knew he felt her love.

He had brought her here, clothed her, sheltered her, taught her, and loved her. Lucian
was
home, her home.

Leaning close, she pressed her lips to his and whispered. “Me too. Besides, where else would I be?” As she pulled away, worry still weighed on his face. Something was really bothering him. “Lucian, is something wrong?”

Immediately, his expression cleared. “No. I'm just being sentimental. Go get your things. I'll call down for breakfast.”

She knew when he was being sincere and when he was being Lucian Patras, master of strategy, connoisseur of façades. She didn't enjoy feeling maneuvered like one of his business associates, but whatever was bothering him seemed to run deep. She'd give it a few days to surface before she asked again.

While they waited for breakfast, Evelyn had a quick shower. As she returned from the bedroom, hair wet and in her robe once more, she found Lucian sitting at the sofa, examining a blue stone. She hesitated, hoping he wouldn't tell her she wasted her money. Their covered breakfast awaited them at a small bistro table in the corner. She could smell the sweet scent of the maple syrup and knew he had ordered her favorite, French toast.

Slowly, she walked to the couch. Lucian turned the stone this way and that. “This is sea glass.”

“I know. I probably wasted the money—”

“I think it's interesting. You can't get stuff like this so far in from the coast. They're pretty.”

Such satisfaction filled her when he didn't judge her for buying rocks and glass. “I thought they were interesting too. Look at this one, with the green and purple swirls. That one's my favorite.”

He smiled at her excitement as she scooted close to him on the sofa. They searched through the stones, pointing out various unique qualities of each one. “What are you going to do with them?”

She shrugged. “I don't know, but they seemed too pretty to let go. Is that weird?”

He grinned and pulled her close, his fingers pushing her damp hair away from her face. “As a collector and curator of beautiful things, I'd have to say no.” He kissed her, his passion starting a slow burn, then quickly heating. “I'm hungry,” he whispered against her lips.

Her mind went to the fluffy French toast waiting for them as Lucian's hand tugged at the belt of her robe. He eased her down on the couch. “Lucian . . .” She giggled.

“Hush.”

The plush lapels of her terrycloth robe were drawn away from her bare breasts as he positioned her the way he wanted, hands resting above her head on the arm of the sofa. She tipped her chin to watch him.

Warm lips pressed into the tender flesh of her belly as he took his time working his way to her sex. Strong hands gripped her narrow hips, practically spanning her midsection, thumbs pulling at the flesh above her sex. By the time he placed a kiss on the bare delta of her pussy, she was a puddle of desire.

Soft hair tickled her belly, and her body coiled, seeking his contact. Slowly, his tongue licked over her clit and she arched. Everything was soft, sleepy; nothing felt rushed as he explored her.

He groaned in approval of the needy way she moaned and pressed into his touch. Sometimes Lucian desired her in a manner that was so intense she lost touch with reality and existed only for him. Other times he drove her to a point of need so slowly and acutely it was almost painful. Either way she loved it when he touched her. She had never had another lover, but was certain there was no one in this world who could pleasure her the way Lucian Patras could.

His tongue slid through her dewy folds, gently fucking her, sipping from her, nibbling her lips. Taking his time, for several long minutes, he simply made love to her with his mouth, drinking from her as if she were a sacrament.

Warmth bathed her sex as his tongue flicked over her clit. She moaned and begged him never to stop. He drew out her torture until she was sure even the slightest touch of his breath would make her come. It was amazing that such slow seduction could bring her to this point.

“Come for me, Evelyn,” he whispered over her clit before kissing her there, pulling her gently into his mouth.

She arched as shivers racked her body. Limbs locking, toes pointing, her legs slowly curled over his strong arms as her heart beat right down to the point below his lips. Warm waves of pleasure blanketed her, carrying her on an easy current to a timeless place of beauty and escape.

She sagged in his grip as he lifted her on top of him. Quickly he lowered his silk pants to his hips and seated her with a knee on each side of his thighs. Her sex rippled at the press of his hard cock. The wide head breached her folds and filled her, prolonging her orgasm before it could fade.

Lucian's hands brushed her tangled hair away from her face, and when his lips found hers she tasted herself. Her weight lifted as she slowly rode him, luxuriating in the fullness he made her feel. They kissed and fucked with an unhurried passion and she savored it.

His hands gripped her softer parts tightly, as though he needed to feel her everywhere. Fingers coasted down her spine, twisting and tickling up to her scalp where they locked in her hair, angling her head back.

His mouth sucked at the long column of her exposed throat. He kept her in the vulnerable position, hair fisted in his hand, other hand anchoring down her hip as he lifted his body into hers. Deep, needy pleas of lust whispered over her flesh as he filled her.

Her body peaked again and her hair suddenly released as his palms gripped her hips hard and dragged her down on his cock, impaling her, dragging her clit over the hard bone of his pelvis. She treasured making love like this, savoring every tender touch and intense whisper.

He filled her with his hot release. Her body fluttered and he began to rapidly pump his hips off the couch, thrusting into her deep. “I want one more orgasm from you, Evelyn.”

Lifting from her wilted pose, she covered him. Crying out as he drove her to the pinnacle quickly and she easily climaxed. When she came, it was hard and forceful. She cried out and collapsed onto his shoulder, replete, tiny shockwaves of the aftermath jerking her body in tiny spasms every few seconds as she came back down.

The thump of his heart thudded against her ear. She smiled into his chest and giggled. “I'm gonna need another shower.”

His chuckle was a slow rumble that expanded the smirk on her face.

She loved him.