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“From Mother’s prognosis we were given strict instructions from our father that she was not to see us cry. Not a single tear.”
“Oh, Lucian.” I lower my arm onto the mattress, inches from him. I don’t make any further attempts to touch him. He knows where I am, where my hand is if he wants comfort. If he wants me, I am here.
Silence.
Nothing but the sound of a whistling breeze forcing its way through a partially open window. Lucian remains perched on the edge of the bed. He stares at the walls, perhaps replaying childhood memories in his mind, or perhaps thinking of nothing at all.
The lamplight flickers sporadically, and it seems to snap Lucian out of his trance. Slowly, he turns his attention to me. “So now you know everything there is to know about me, am I right in saying there is nothing else that needs to be said?”
There is so much more that needs saying, but instead of giving my thoughts volume I simply shake my head.
“Good.” Lucian leans toward the nightstand and switches the lamp off. Now that we’re shrouded in darkness, my eyes become tired. My outstretched arm is feeling numb and heavy. A pins-and-needles sensation prickles at my fingers. I reclaim my arm and hug it into my chest because, for the first time since I’ve known Lucian, he doesn’t want me. He wants—no, heneedsspace, and if it’s space he needs, it’s space I will give him.
It’s too painful to look at him any longer, so I plump my pillow and turn in the opposite direction. I close my eyes, squeezing my lids tightly together in the hopes of drying up my stupid tears. But they’re relentless and fall like miniature streams down my cheeks. Silently I’m breaking, and there isn’t a single thing I can do to make the hurt or the pain go away.
Seconds pass, minutes, maybe an hour, I have no idea. I think I’m all cried out, and there isn’t a single tear or emotion left inside me. I feel so empty and so numb. I want sleep to take me away, to somewhere happy and less complicated.
More time passes, and I can feel myself slowly starting to drift off when an arm wraps around my waist.
Finally, he needs me. Being lost in your own grief is a lonely place to be. You can only stay in the darkness for so long until you search for light. I wonder if I am the light Lucian came in search of, the light he needs to slowly heal, because I am convinced that Lucian hasn’t dealt with the death of his mother. But I will be here for him, I will help him heal.
“Lucian,” I whisper.
His touch, I need his touch, and I need the closeness with him. I can’t feel his body, so shuffle back. My back meets his warm chest, and the backs of my legs brush against his bare thighs. Lucian is undressed and is quite possibly naked. Instead of feeling nervous, and instead of pulling away, I lean my ass back. Sure enough, he is wearing boxers. The hard bulge digging into me leaves me in no doubt as to his intentions.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and tightens his hold on me.
“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” I say, and, linking my fingers with his, I lower our joined hands between us, down past my bellybutton, and stop directly over my sex.
His lips find my earlobe, and I melt into him as he kisses me, long and sensually.
“Lucian,”
Releasing me, he pushes his fingers beneath the armhole of my dress. Without a word he takes my left breast in his hand. His hips roll forward as he fondles me. Feeling a tingly sensation below, I begin to roll my ass back and grind into him.
Lucian’s hand leaves my breast and is inching below the hem of my dress. “Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop,” he whispers.
“Don’t stop,” I groan, and part my thighs.
But Lucian’s touch is gone. I’m about to glance over my shoulder when he flips me over onto my back.
Heart racing, I watch as his head disappears beneath the bedding.
“What are you doing?” I ask, lifting the quilt up to see. His head travels down the length of my body and stops directly between my legs. Without a word he prises my thighs apart.
His fingers move my panties to the side, and I let him. I arch my back when his finger rubs over my clit, and I cry out when his tongue takes over.
“Oh, my God.” My body jerks as his tongue circles my clit. My legs stiffen and I immediately tense. I’ve never been kissed down there before, so intimately, so… so… God, this feels good, better than good. As much as I can feel my cheeks heat with embarrassment, they heat with something else. Desire, lust, and pure need. I relax my head back into the pillow and buck my hips. I weave my fingers through his hair and can’t help but pull his face closer.
“Lucian,” I say and squirm as the pressure he applies intensifies. The strokes of his tongue are unrelenting. He fucks me with his finger and pleasures me with his tongue. I’m hit by an intoxicating cocktail of pleasure that I cannot get enough of.
My stomach clenches, my legs tremble. Lucian doesn’t stop when I reach my climax, and instead he increases his pace and exerts more pressure. Together we ride my waves of pleasure. I feel hot and tingly all over. But Lucian continues to work my clit. God, this is too much. I squirm and, fisting his hair between my fingers, I give it a gentle tug.
His tongue laps my clit one final time before he peers up. “Do you want this?”
I know what he’s asking, and my answer is a no-brainer. “Yes.”
Lucian kisses his way up my body. He bunches the skirt of my dress between his fingers and pulls it up with him. He kisses his way up my stomach and up the valley of my breasts. Of course he stops at each nipple and sucks it into his mouth before finally his lips are on mine and he kisses me hard. He kisses me like this is our first kiss, he kisses me like this is our last. We kiss one another with everything we are.
