Her gaze locks with mine as she takes me deep, her tongue teasing every time she draws back. The sensation is pure, sweet agony. “Briar,” I breathe, my voice rough. “Fuck, yeah.”
“Hmmm,” she hums around me, and the vibration shoots straight through my body, sharp and hot. I suck in a hissed breath, fighting the instinct to thrust into her mouth with the desperation clawing at me. Instead, I force myself to stay still, to savor every damn second of her pulling me slowly, perfectly, toward release.
The sight of her kneeling before me, mine to command, does things to me I don’t even want to name. She’s going to be mine. There’s no question. And God help anyone who tries to get in my way — because I’ll end them.
The urge to protect her is growing stronger every day, curling tighter around my chest. I’ve never felt this before — not with anyone. Not this need to keep someone safe. To keep her.
Is it because of her past? Because I know Matteo Romero wants her? Or is it simply because I want to be her future? Iwanted her before I knew any of that, so maybe it’s simpler than I want to admit.
Either way, I’m not running from it. Not from her.
Her pace quickens, her fingers cradling my balls as her mouth works me deeper. My breath shudders, muscles tensing as the pleasure builds sharp and hot.
“Fuck, Briar…” I groan, the words tearing out of me as the pressure in my gut spikes. I don’t warn her, can’t. Release hits hard, surging through me as I spill down her throat, and she swallows every drop without a word.
When she finally slides her mouth off me, she does it slow, with one last teasing flick of her tongue. My head falls back for a moment before I grab her hand and pull her up, crushing my mouth to hers.
I taste myself on her lips and groan against her mouth, reveling in the way she melts into me, pliant and safe in my arms. Christ, she fits me. Perfectly.
She leans back slightly, that self-satisfied grin curving her lips. “Was that all you needed from me, Mr. Moretti?”
Her husky tone makes my cock twitch, even softened and spent. I drag her closer until she’s flush against me. “For now.” Reluctantly, I let her go, zipping up my pants and fixing my clothing. She smooths her dress, that damn tempting grin still playing on her lips as she heads for the door. “Let me know if anything pops up.”
I growl under my breath, running a hand down my face. She knows exactly what she’s doing, the little tease. And as much as I fucking love seeing this playful side of her, it also makes me…
Dangerous.
FIFTEEN
BRIAR
By the timewe get back to Lucien’s loft, the city lights are spilling through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting the space in gold and shadow. It still amazes me, this place — sleek, modern, and yet somehow…him. It’s so different to my own home. My flat was tiny and could fit in the living room of this place. And I certainly didn’t have the magnificent views Lucien enjoyed. Once I may have lived in such luxury, when married to Matteo, but I was only too happy to give up that lavish lifestyle, built on crime and killing, and live modestly as I have done for the past few years. Oddly enough however, living here with Lucien has started to feel natural. Dangerous, maybe, but natural.
I kick off my heels near the door while he shrugs out of his suit jacket, tossing it over the back of a nearby chair. “You want wine?” I ask, already heading toward the kitchen.
“Always,” he says, his voice rough from the long day.
The soft pop of the cork and glug of liquid fills the quiet as I pour two generous glasses. When I turn, he’s leaned against the counter, sleeves rolled up, tie loose, watching me like he always does — like I’m the only thing worth seeing.
It unnerves me, the way his attention feels like a weight and a tether all at once. But I cannot think of not having that feeling when around him. An enigma I cannot quite process, even though I know this probably cannot last. How can it when I have the sinking feeling, no matter what he does for a living, there is another side of Lucien that’s hidden, a part that I cannot reconcile or have anything to do with again.
“I can cook some pasta for dinner if you’d like to eat in?” I’m not the best at cooking, but I do try and it’s the effort that counts, isn’t it?
Lucien throws me an amused smile and gestures for me to go ahead. “Sure, whatever you wish.”
I go about the kitchen, grabbing a saucepan and filling it with water before placing it on the gas oven to boil. I remember to add salt and the pasta, stirring to ensure it doesn’t stick to the bottom. Without asking, Lucien rises and pulls out a jar of pasta sauce, leaving it on the counter next to the stove, his sexy-as-hell grin making my stomach clench deliciously.
The man is too encompassing, too much, and yet I can’t get enough of him. Not that I should think too far ahead of whatever is happening between us. He is my boss. I’m here for my own protection. Being someone’s fuck buddy didn’t mean he’d put a ring on it. And no matter how much he tried to hide it from me, he was part of the underworld which I couldn’t stomach again.
Once was enough.
Not that I thought Lucien was a crime lord, or at least I hope he wasn’t. His father used to be as criminally minded as Matteo, but everything I knew of Moretti Global was legit. I had to hold on to that small hope that what I feared would come to fruition, wouldn’t. Lucien promised to keep me safe. Surely he would do so by using the law to his advantage and not underhanded ways like my ex.
Lucien’s phone buzzes and he glances at the screen, jaw tightening before he answers. “Yeah.” His voice is low and clipped. I can’t hear much of the conversation, but I know it’s business — but is it Matteo Romero troubles again?
By the time he hangs up, his wine sits untouched, and there’s a familiar tension riding his shoulders. Before I can ask, there’s a knock at the door. Lucien sighs, setting his phone down. “That’ll be Stephen.”
His brother Stephen steps inside the loft, and his solemn visage puts me on edge. Stephen loosens his tie in a similar fashion to Lucien and it’s clear visually that they are related. He heads straight for the kitchen island, plopping down on a stool and taking in the domesticated scene. He throws a couple of peanuts that are sitting in a bowl on the counter into his mouth and tips his chin in hello at me.
