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“We don’t have to do this,” he says. “If you’re not ready we can just—”
The pillow rustles beneath me as I shake my head. “I. Want. This,” I say, slow and controlled.
Lucian’s lips meet mine, and he smiles into the kiss. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.”
He slides off me and off the bed. I lean back on my elbows and watch as he takes a condom from the nightstand drawer. He removes his boxers and sheathes his cock. I’m met by a rush of excitement and a rush of nerves as he braces himself over me. With his knee between my legs, he prises my thighs open one final time before lowering himself down.
“It will hurt at first,” he says, positioning the head of his cock over my entrance. “But it will start to feel good, I promise.” Slowly, he begins to slide into me. My thighs tense at the burning sensation. Each inch deeper feels like fire.
I turn my head to the side, close my eyes and fist the bedsheets between my fingers. I want this, I want him, I just have to get through this burning sensation before I can enjoy this.
He’s going slow, so slow that it’s making the pain last forever. Without thinking, I loop my leg around his ass and pull him into me. My body jerks and the burn is immediate as I take every inch of him.
“Are you okay?” Lucian asks, his body still.
I nod, realising that I am no longer a virgin. “Yes.”
Lucian kisses me on the forehead before lifting up. He thrusts in and out of me. Having him inside me is excruciating, but very soon the sensation morphs into pleasure and it feels good.
I remove my fingers from the vice grip I had on the bedsheet and wrap my arms around Lucian’s back. I hold him as he makes love to me. Our lips connect, our gazes burn into each other, and we are as close as two people can be. Emotionally and physically, we are one.
In and out he thrusts. Deeper and faster. His kisses turn from sensual to demanding. Each thrust brings him closer to the edge, until finally he climaxes and he stills. Inside me, he rolls us over so I am lying on top of him. He wraps me up in his arms, and as crazy as it sounds, I feel safe in his embrace.
“I love you, Chelsea,” he says, and kisses me on the head.
“I, I…” My words trail off.I love you, Lucianis what I want to say.The syllables are literally on the tip of my tongue, but try as I might, I can’t gather the courage to join them together to give those three little words volume.
Lucian takes a deep breath. “I hope that one day you can love me, and one day you can wear my grandmother’s engagement ring for real.”
“Your grandmother’s ring?” I question, having had no idea.
“That’s right, she was a very special woman, and I’d only give her ring to someone I’m serious about. Our engagement may have started off as fake but be under no illusion, I have no intention of it remaining that way. I’m done with pretending. Chelsea Janssen, I want you to be my wife.”
Lucian
Iwake up at six am with Chelsea wrapped up in my arms. As much as I want to stay, there is somewhere I need to be, and that somewhere is the Calloway London offices for an important annual meeting.
It doesn’t matter that I’m the first to arrive at the offices because arriving early is a Calloway brother tradition. A tradition I plan to keep, if only for one final time.
I spend the best part of an hour on the building’s rooftop lounging on an al fresco-style bench. I remember all the times my brothers and I would come up here before and after a long day’s work in the office. We were kings of our castle, masters of our empire and the streets of London our playground. But everything changed when Malachi announced he was moving to Scotland. Malachi was our foundation and without him the cracks in our relationship began to appear. Our bond crumbled and the three of us drifted apart. To this day Gage has remained working in the offices, Malachi commutes a couple of times a month and, as for me, my time is much better utilised in my home office.
By eight am the city comes alive with the sound of pedestrians, honking horns and engine noise. The door to my right opens. Malachi steps out onto the rooftop to join me.
I nod my head in acknowledgement and gesture toward the table where I have laid three unlit cigars. Malachi leans down, takes a cigar and sits beside me.
He really looks the part today. His black hair is sleeked back with not so much as a single strand out of place. He is wearing a grey Armani suit with a matching silk tie. His outfit is completed with golden ribbon cufflinks. Why would he look anything less than perfect? Today is the day all the company executives get together and discuss the previous year’s profits and forecasts for the following year. It’s a morning of number-crunching, followed by an afternoon spent with our marketing team.
I should be excited to see the figures, but I’m not. Talking to Chelsea about my mother struck a chord with me, because after she passed we weren’t allowed to talk about her. My father told us we needed to rally together and keep our business heads on. Scheduling our companies’ annual financial meeting the day after she passed away was my father’s way of achieving just that. Contrary to popular belief, Duncan Calloway isn’t cold, nor is he uncaring, he’s just a man buried deep in his own grief and denial.
Lost in our thoughts, Malachi and I sit and wait. With nothing else to do other than twiddle my thumbs, I retrieve my grandfather’s golden pocket watch and watch the minutes silently tick away.
“Do you still have it set ten minutes early?” my brother wonders aloud.
I nod. “Of course. It’s tradition.”
Malachi smiles and claps me on the back. “Grandfather would have been proud of the man you become.”
“Thanks, Mal.” Malachi and I have our differences more often than not, but he is a good guy.
