the strength to trust in another’s ability to know how much they might take, the strength to believe
they’re utterly beautiful without façades and conceit. Raw.
It was a woman bared in naked truth, secure enough to give over to her man, surrender every bit of
struggle to be a queen at the top of the king’s mountain. There was such a high esteem in his mind for
the strength it took to surrender here, yet remain empowered in the outside world. He felt nothing but
utter admiration for any woman capable of collapsing such self-preservation after just one command.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered as she folded her hands behind her back. If he asked her to undo
his pants and suck him off she would, but he wanted to pleasure her. This was the one area she truly let go and trusted him. He lamented that he could so freely have her body’s submission and somehow she
still held back part of her heart. He’d work on it.
Lucian walked slowly to the bed and removed his suit jacket. After loosening his tie the rest of the
way, he slid it out from under his collar and draped them over the corner of the low mattress. Easing
down until his back rested on her pillows propped against the wall, he said, “Come here.”
She obligingly stepped in front of him. When he arrived, he wanted to claw off her clothes and mark
her like an animal. Now, however, something in her calmness had tempered his need. He wanted only
to be with her, please her, make her cry out in a way no other man could.
He sat up and drew her to his lap. Her knees straddled his thighs and settled onto him. His fingers
curled over her hips, thumbs teasing at the undersides of her breasts. He loved her.
Quiet moments like this seemed to scream the truth. He loved her and would do anything to protect
her, to witness those limited moments of unburdened happiness that showed so seldom in her knowing
eyes. She had had such an arduous life before him. He hated that his poor choices had somehow added
to her strife.
Apologies rang in his head. He’d been such a careless bastard. How could he have allowed things to
get so out of hand with Parker? Never again, he vowed. Never would he let her slip through his hands
again.
With intrepid gentleness, he sifted his fingers through her hair and drew her into his kiss. Petite
hands squeezed at his shoulders as her knees tightened at his sides. He kissed her slowly, but
intensely, laving at her neck, lips, and shoulders until he slowly eased her to her back and pressed his weight into her.
The world fell away, hidden beneath the sensual fog that swallowed them. The tiny bed squeaked
beneath their weight as he removed his clothing and pressed into her hot core. Her legs held him and
her hands glided over his skin as he slowly filled her, his only intention to love her.
Fingers pressed into flesh. Mouths pulled upon tender parts, and their bodies tangled with
unanimity. Gone were his worries of business and poachers. She was his and she owned him equally,
mind, body, and soul.
After bringing her to climax several times, he allowed himself to let go and bathed her womb in his
release. Her sigh of contentment matched his own. So rarely had he enjoyed plain old missionary
vanilla sex, yet with Evelyn, there was no line of ordinary. It was all potent and all-encompassing.
His body collapsed beside hers as they caught their breath. Her dainty fingers found his and
entwined themselves there.
“I’m staying the night,” he announced and she let out a resigned sigh, clearly sensing there would
be no getting rid of him.
After several moments of simply basking in the aftermath of their lovemaking, she rose and went to
use the bathroom. His eyes returned to that cabinet hiding her paperwork. What would a woman who
can’t read beyond a primary student’s ability need with so much paperwork? He worried she could be
signing something under misconceptions, and his need to protect her rode him hard.
He ignored his urge to investigate, feeling a bite of some unnamable esteem for his exercise in
restraint. Trust. For some reason he knew it would mean so much more if she came to him with her
secrets than if he demanded she share them. It was a difficult exercise in control and trust, but one he could savor the burn of—like a marathon he didn’t want to run, but found the value in walking.
Reaching in his pocket, he found his cell phone for distraction. His thumb swiped over the screen
and found Dugan’s text.
2424 Glacier Place.
Residential area near Susquehanna Ave.
Appears to live alone.
Lucian quickly replied and tucked his phone away.
Run a check on the address and find out who he is. I’ll see you in the morning.
On cue, the reflection of the limo’s headlights danced over the blanket covering the window as