“And yet you still want to try this?” I wasn’t sure why I kept harping on it. I’d wanted to for so long. Part of me was yelling to shut the hell up. But I wanted him to be certain.
“Yes, Emma, I do.”
A hiccup lifted my chest. I liked those words. So much. “Even though we might fail spectacularly?”
“Did you miss the part where I said I ache for you? That today felt like a year? Em . . . you’re the first person who has made me smile since I retired. Even if I was still playing hockey, I’d want you. I am alive in a way I haven’t been before. My world is brighter, more real, when you’re in it. I was a fool to—”
I stepped into his space and wrapped my arms around his waist. “I missed you too. Today is already better now that you’re here.”
“Hell.” He caught me up in a hug so tight I felt it in my bones. But I didn’t care. His mouth pressed to the top of my head, and he breathed in before letting it out in a shuddering exhale. “Thank you.”
“For what?” I asked against the snug warmth of his chest.
Long fingers threaded through my hair, and he eased me back to smile down at me. “For being you.”
Then he kissed me. Soft, reverent, an apology. And it felt so good I lifted up on my toes, surging into the kiss. With a small grunt, he caught on fast, his head angling to kiss me deeper. Our tongues touched, a first taste. All our careful reserve melted, replaced by fraught, straining touches, licks, nips.
My body remembered just how much it loved Lucian’s kiss, his taste, and kicked into hyperawareness, heat washing over me in a wave that had me moaning inside his mouth. Lucian fisted the loose folds at the back of my dress, his other big hand cupping my cheek, moving me where he wanted, taking long greedy pulls of my mouth.
“Tell me you have a damn condom this time,” I pleaded against his lips.
He pulled back to meet my eyes. Hair rumpled, lips swollen, he appeared almost dazed. “I . . .”
“If you say no,” I warned, stealing a quick, messy openmouthed kiss, “I might kill you.”
A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, and suddenly he hauled me up, one arm under my butt, the other securing my shoulders. His grin was sweet and sultry. “I didn’t want to appear presumptuous, but since death is on the line, yes, I have condoms.”
I wrapped my legs around his waist. “Then take me to bed, Brick. It’s been a long day.”
“A year,” he muttered, grinning and kissing my mouth as he hustled toward the bedroom. “Maybe more. Felt like forever, Em.”
Yeah, it kind of did.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Emma
I thought it would be fast, frantic. But as soon as we entered the cool quiet of the bedroom, Lucian set me down. His fierce gaze stayed on me as he toed off his shoes.
“Now yours,” he said, voice deep and gruff.
I mirrored his actions, taking off my high-heeled sandals without looking away from him. A small smile curled at the edges of his lips as he reached behind his head and grabbed the collar of his sweater to pull it off. But when I moved to lift my top, he raised a hand to forestall me.
“No. I want to do that.” He stepped up to me, stopping so close I could feel the warmth of his smooth skin. Fine dark hairs dusted his chest, flirted around the stiff tips of his little nipples.
Staring at the beautiful expanse of male strength, I found myself swaying toward him, the need to kiss, touch, stroke burning hot and pure through my limbs.
His gaze was a living thing, sliding like liquid silk along my sensitized skin. He breathed deep and steady, but the fluttering pulse at the base of his throat betrayed him. With infinite care, he ran the tips of his fingers along the ruffled edge of my shirt, back and forth, toying with fabric.
He watched the movements with a quiet absorption, as though he needed to witness what he was doing to me. His fingers slid underneath the top, and my breath hitched. Gaze flicking up to mine, he nearly smiled, the gesture halting as he found my nipple and rubbed in a lazy circle.
Heat coursed through me, so strong that my knees went weak. Whimpering, I grabbed his arm to steady myself.
“I’ve got you,” he said, wrapping an arm around my waist.
But he didn’t let up. His hand lightly kneaded my breast as his head dipped low. Soft lips coasted along the sensitive skin of my neck. He held me there, hand cupping the back of my neck as he pressed a lingering kiss to the tender hollow of my throat.
“How do you want it, Em? Slow and easy?” He tweaked my nipple. “Fast and hard?”
I leaned into him, pressed my lips to the solid curve of his shoulder. “I want it all. Everything.”
Lucian grunted. “Good answer.”
Our mouths met, the kiss urgent and all-encompassing. I felt it in my thighs, along the small of my back, in the throb between my legs. He kissed me like he meant it. Like it was all he’d ever wanted. And I kissed him back, loving the feel and taste of him. Loving that he was mine to kiss.
“I need you, Em.” His fingers grasped my waist, clinging, his mouth molding to mine. “I need you.”
With a deft move, he lifted my shirt up and off—my skirt followed—then captured my lips again as we stumbled toward the bed. Lucian sat on the edge of it with a grunt, his big hands grasping my hips to pull me between his thighs.
Lucian’s gaze flared with heat as it slid to my bare breasts. Slowly, he trailed his fingers upward, his voice dropping low and rough. “It’s probably wrong that I dream of these.”
I huffed out a laugh, but it cut short as he leaned in and lightly kissed the tip of my nipple. My hands went into his hair, holding him there as he kissed me again and again, his mouth opening a little to barely suck. It was the worst sort of tease. The best.
Warm breath ghosted along my skin. “I dream of you every night, Em. Fevered dreams of wanting you.” His big hand cupped my breast, plumping it up so he could lick it at his leisure.
My head went light, desire curling in wisps of heat through my belly. He kept me there, licking and sucking, tormenting my aching nipples. Each draw of his mouth tugged on something deep within my sex, made it throb, made my insides clench sweetly.
Slowly, his hands coasted down to my hips, tracing my panties before he tugged them down. He looked up at me, even as his hand eased between my thighs. Ice-green eyes burned bright. “I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you.” The calloused tips of his fingers slid along my swollen, slick sex. “Now that I have you, I don’t know where to start.”
My lids fluttered, hands clutching at his shoulders as he rubbed back and forth. “Right there works for me.”
His smile was sin and promise. “You like that, honey?”
“Yes.”
He toyed with the entrance to my sex, pausing there to push just enough for me to feel it, to want it. “How about here?”
“There is . . .” My breath caught. He pushed in, long strong fingers filling me.
“Is what?” he murmured darkly, those talented fingers slowly fucking me, as though he had all the time in the world. The blunt end of his thumb found my puffy clit and circled it.
I whimpered again, falling against him, my arms wrapping around his neck. “So fucking good.”
He made a noise, possessive and greedy, his mouth finding my nipple, his long fingers pushing up into me. “God, you’re perfect. So perfect for me.”