Lucian slid his hand from her breast. His palm glided down her stomach as that wonderful mouth of his replaced his hand. As he drew the other nipple deep in his mouth, he slid a finger deep inside her.

A keening moan parted her lips as she kicked her head back. Her body responded without thought.

“I could get drunk off those sounds,” he said, working another finger in her.

She opened her eyes, breathing heavily. “I could get drunk off you.”

That devilish glint filled his eyes as he dipped his chin, dragging his tongue over the tip of her breast. “Every part of you is addicting.”

She ran her hand down his chest, her fingers lingering on tight muscles. A fire was building in her blood again. “I could say the same about you.”

And that was the truth.

Everything about him was addicting. She felt like a fiend in that moment, chasing after the release she knew he promised, the bliss he was creating with his fingers and mouth. A tight flutter started deep insider her. It wasn’t enough.”

“Please.” She dragged her hand up to the shorter strands of his hair.

He lifted his mouth from her breast. His fingers were still inside her, moving in and out. “Please what?”

He was going to make her ask for—beg for it. “I want you.”

Lucian twisted his hand, pressing his palm against her. “You want me to do what?”

She dug her fingers into the hair and pulled, drawing a hoarse chuckle from him. “I want you in me.”

“That’s what I’ve been waiting to hear.”

Lucian moved, snatched one of the wrappers off the bed. He had that condom on in record time. Tiny shocks of pleasure darted to the very ends of nerves as he lined their bodies up. He braced himself, one hand at her hip as he pushed in a few inches. They both stopped, their breathing in rushed tandem.

“It’s . . . it’s been a long time,” she whispered.

“Yeah?” He kissed her, drawing her tongue into his mouth. “Might make me sound like a selfish bastard, but I’m glad to hear that.”

Julia drew one leg up, hooking it over his hip. The motion forced him to sink in deeper, all the way. The sound he made as he dropped his forehead to hers was nearly her undoing.

“You’re going to kill me,” he groaned.

The pressure of him inside her was stealing her breath. “I think you can handle it.”

“I don’t know.” His lips glided over hers again as his big body trembled. “I want to drag this out, but I don’t think I can.”

“Don’t.” She cupped his cheek. “I don’t want to wait any longer.”

He closed his eyes briefly. “Thank God.”

He took her then.

Lucian’s mouth was on hers as he dragged his thick length almost all the way out and then he thrust in. Julia’s cry was swallowed by his kiss. The fullness of him stretching her had the pleasure ratcheting up with every push and pull.

His hands were everywhere. So were hers. Her fingers dug into his tight ass. His palm closed over her breast. The steady rolling of his hips picked up as Julia whispered his name over and over, begging for more.

And he gave more.

Lucian told her in heated words how much he loved the way she felt, and those words scorched her. Their movements became frantic. Rhythm was lost. There were no more words. Just grunts and moans, a language of flesh meeting flesh. Her back arched and her hips lifted, seeking him—seeking more and more.

Then she was on that precarious edge of what she knew was going to be beautiful and powerful. Lucian seemed to sense this, because he shifted his body just right, and then he was thrusting and grinding, building the friction to intense, consuming levels. His hips were pounding into hers, all pretenses of control and seduction gone.

The tension coiled tighter and tighter, and then he reached between them, to where their bodies joined, and did something incredible with his thumb. Julia broke, the release exploding through her. Waves of pleasure washed over her. She was only half aware of his body slamming into hers.

“Julia . . .” His voice was a hoarse shot against her lips as his hips jerked and then he stilled deep inside her.

It felt like an eternity had passed before either of them moved. Lucian slowly lifted his upper body, resting his weight on an arm. “You okay?”

“More than okay,” she murmured. “It was . . .”

“Amazing? The best you ever had?” he suggested helpfully. “You’ll never be the same again? You saw Jesus, didn’t you?”

Julia laughed as she lightly smacked his arm.

He caught her hand and brought it to his mouth. “It was amazing. I don’t even have words and I always have words.” Kissing each knuckle, he then lowered her hand to the bed. “Be right back.”

Julia bit down on the inside of her cheek as he eased out of her. Once the weight and the warmth was gone, Julia rolled onto her side. She watched him walk over to a closed door she quickly discovered led to a bathroom. Water turned on as she curled her knees up. Her heart was still racing and her body still felt like every bone and tissue was replaced with feathers and pillow stuffing.

Lucian strolled back into the room, obviously a hundred percent confident with everything on display. She wasn’t complaining as her gaze roamed over him. She wished she could sketch, because her fingers practically ached with the desire to do so.

Silence crept in as Lucian returned to the bed. He pulled the covers back and then climbed in, stretching out on his back. Nervousness crept in, replacing that wonderful languor that had invaded her senses. What was she supposed to do? Stay? Leave? This man didn’t do relationships or women more than once for the most part, so he probably didn’t want them sleeping in his bed. Which was probably the smartest thing to do. She shouldn’t be sleeping in his bed.

For some dumb reason that felt more serious than actually having sex with him.

She probably needed her head examined, she thought as she started to sit up.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Julia halted. “I was going back to my room.”

“Uh, no. No, you’re not.” Lucian hooked an arm around her waist and dragged her over to him, fitting the front of her body to his side.

So, she guessed she wasn’t going back to her room.

She was stiff at first, unsure of how to process the fact he wasn’t kicking her out of his bed. Slowly, she relaxed, letting her cheek fall to his chest and her hand to his stomach.

“You know what?” he asked after a few moments.

“What?”

“I think I’m going to need seconds.” He placed his hand over hers, and Julia started to grin. “And thirds. Like a fucking buffet of Julia nonstop.”

Chapter 26

Lucian’s gaze flew to the ceiling. The room was dark and the warm body curled into his was sleeping peacefully.

Footsteps. Damn footsteps.

He knew that’s what he just heard, because he hadn’t fallen asleep. No, he was lying here, watching Julia sleep like some kind of damn creep. He couldn’t help it, though. There was a part of him that couldn’t believe she had come to him, that she’d opened up about her ex-husband and that she hadn’t been scared when he admitted that he’d done things he wasn’t necessarily proud of.

He strained to hear any other sign of the footsteps, but after a few moments, he found himself looking at Julia again. Truth was, if someone was up there doing jumping jacks, he probably wouldn’t pull himself out of this bed.

Lucian had never felt that way before.

Fuck. He really was out of his element here as he reached down, scooping several strands of hair off her cheek, brushing them back from her face.

He was enthralled with the lines of her face. Such interesting angles blended together to form such a perfect shape. He was addicted by all the soft curves, wanting to memorize every inch with his fingers and lips. And he was fascinated with the genuine kindness he saw in her eyes and heard in her words.

In his world, that was a rare thing.

No one was kind or helpful with expecting something in return. Julia was both things and expected nothing.

She’d loved her ex-husband—loved a man who obviously didn’t deserve her, and Lucian wanted—




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