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Realizing I can’t get out of answering without being rude, I grimace slightly and reply, “Because it’s the cradle of the Renaissance.”
He motions with his hand impatiently. “And?”
I shrug self-consciously. “And that’s one of my favorite periods of art history.”
He finally turns around to face me. Head tilted to the side, he considers me carefully. “But when I followed you to the gallery in Chelsea, the exhibition was of modern photos.”
I nod. “I do love modern art, but you asked me why Italy, and Italy has the largest concentration of Renaissance art and architecture. Modern art can be found anywhere.”
“Huh,” he replies, as if I’ve described something fascinating. I thought a map with pushpins on the wall was pretty cliché for a nerdy, sheltered girl like me.
Picking at his white dress shirt, he asks, “This is filthy. Do you have extra clothing laying around that I can change into?”
I breathe out in relief as his attention moves off me, even if the idea of Lucian taking off his shirt makes my tummy flutter in a way I’d rather not dwell on.
“Sure, I’m sure there’s something in Tatum’s room that will fit you,” I explain, pointing toward his bedroom down the hall. “Take anything you want.”
I take advantage of his absence to change out of the torn cocktail dress into a pair of oversized gray joggers and a crop top, a variation of my usual out-of-school outfit. Waiting cross-legged on the bed, I’m in the middle of forcing my thick hair into an elastic band when he returns.
He halts at the door. His silvery gaze sweeps over me as if I’m wearing something sexy, which is absolutelynotthe case.
He, on the other hand, looks devastating in sweats that ride low on his hips and one of Tatum’s favorite Italian soccer team jerseys. I’m not especially surprised by his choice since his clan is notorious for fixing matches high up on the international stage, or so I’ve heard.
He idly scratches his belly, pulling the rayon material up to flash me a hipbone and one side of the V demarcating his taut abs. I even spy a bulging vein.
I swallow.Damn.
By the look on his face as he stalks toward me, I don’t think he’d accept my suggestion to sleep in another room. He crawls onto the bed and keeps going until he’s forced me down to my back.
Looming over me, his eyes snap, the normally slate color blazing with heat. He presses his knee between my legs, spreading them, and settles between my thighs.
I give him a little huff. “Presumptuous.”
He nibbles in the dip of my crop top, his hot breath scorching my skin. “You wore this knowing what it would do to me.”
I snort out a nervous laugh. “I did not. This is what I wear around the house.”
Tugging at my top, he lazily swipes at one exposed nipple and moans around it. I think he says something like, “Then I can’t wait to live with you.”
It’s hard to focus when he’s doing that to my breast. I half-heartedly push at his shoulder because we really shouldn’t be doing this, but he ignores me. Pulling himself up, he parts my lips with his tongue. He gives no quarter, taking my mouth like it’s his right. I taste remnants of alcohol, the tang of champagne.
His kisses are relentless, all-consuming affairs that leave my brain scrambled.
The rough bristles of his five o’clock shadow scrape against my cheek and jaw.
I tear myself away from his mouth before completely losing my wits. “W-we shouldn’t do this.”
“We’re way past that,” he replies casually, rasping his chin against the upper swell of my breast.
I shift my hips beneath him, already wet from his rigid length rubbing against my mound. Regardless of how good he smells, tastes, feels…I’m determined to resist him. I don’t know why I’m most comfortable pushing back against his wishes. Even though I gave up my virginity to him, even though we’ve had sex more than once, I can’t give up the fight. If I give in, even a little bit, I’ll get dragged down into the brutal undertow that is Lucian Popescu. All my hopes and dreams will fall apart in his world, and I can never allow that to happen.
He reaches out and brushes his thumb over my bottom lip. Unexpectedly, my wrists are wrapped in his grip and stretched above my head. “You’ve proven how stubborn you can be, but I’m ten times worse than you on a good day. You want me to prove it to you, I will. As many times as you need. But mark my words, Star, in the end, you will be mine.”
CHAPTER19
LUCIAN
Fuck, I love when she pushes back and fights me.
