I was truly done with eating when I dabbed my mouth with my napkin and reclined back in my chair, my interest in the conversation on British politics drawing to a close.
All I wanted was to get that girl of mine upstairs to our bedroom.
When Devon threw down his own napkin and shot a hungry look at Francesca, it was obvious he was wanting to get her up to theirs too.
“I’ve had a lovely dinner with you both,” he said to us, clearly drawing a close to the evening.
I gave him a nod and a smirk. “Very much reciprocated.”
“Fantastic,” he said. “I’m sure we’ll be having many more.”
Francesca hugged and air kissed Elaine with real affection before we all headed back through to the hall together. They disappeared off on their way with a wave and a good night and Elaine and I were left at the staircase up to our wing, waving them off right back.
And then it was us.
Alone.
One look from me had her taking in a breath, and she was as desperate as I was when I grabbed her tight and kissed her hard, tasting mixed berries and lipstick. We headed upstairs and along the landing, a tangle of limbs and kisses, flesh seeking flesh.
We stumbled through our bedroom door but I didn’t throw her down onto the bed. Instead I backed off her, leaving her gasping, lips puffy and lipstick smeared.
“Twirl for me,” I told her, and it was a command.
She looked surprisingly nervous as she did as she was instructed, doing a ballerina twist nice and slowly.
The silver satin of her dress was a shimmer, enough to make me heady. Her hair was alive with sparkles under the light.
“You set me on fucking fire, you know that?” I asked her, and she looked so flattered it was unbelievable. It was insane, just how beautiful that woman was.
“You set me on fire to match, you know that?” she asked, and there was that sweet sassiness in her I adored.
My next instruction felt like a crime, but I couldn’t hold back. No matter how much I was enjoying the beauty of that dress on her, I’d be enjoying the beauty of her flesh underneath it so much more.
“Strip for me,” I said. “Nice and slow.”
Once again, she did as she was told.
She let the straps of the dress fall from her shoulders and did another spin. Slowly.
There were the bite marks I’d left on her the night before, appearing perfectly from beneath the fabric.
I loved seeing her marked like that. Owned like that. Hurt like that, by me.
If anyone else ever hurt her in any way again, I’d skin them alive, but to see my own brutality etched into her was nothing short of filthy magic.
My cock was so hard it was fucking painful in my pants when I closed the distance between us. Her dress dropped to the floor around her feet, and she was wearing white lace panties, so fucking pretty. I tugged them down and dropped to my knees along with them, and there was her wet pussy, freshly waxed and begging for my tongue.
She gasped as I pressed my mouth to her slit, wrapping my arms around her thighs to spread them wider.
Still, the insanity of this new world was a shock to me.
I was on my knees.
A Morelli on their knees before a Constantine.
Lucian Morelli on his knees before Elaine Constantine.
Who’d have thought it would be the greatest feeling in the world?
Chapter Twenty-Three
Elaine
Waking up with a sore pussy was something I could happily get used to. I don’t know what time we eventually fell asleep, but it was late. Lucian had played with me for hours, only giving me his cum when I was so used up I couldn’t come for him anymore.
I reached out for my lover by my side, eager to snuggle in, but he wasn’t there. I jolted, looking around the room for him, but he was nowhere to be seen.
There was only a note on the bedside table.
See you later, princess.
Of course he’d gone. He was Lucian Morelli. He’d probably been signing deals for his new empire since six in the morning, regardless of what time we went to bed. It made me smile to myself. He was truly back to him again. Only I wasn’t back to me. I wasn’t the old Elaine Constantine hiding behind drinks and parties and feeling ashamed of herself behind a sheen of glamor. I was someone else. A new Elaine with all the positives of my old self with a whole host of new ones.
And that was all thanks to the man I once believed to be a monster.
I reached for my cell from the bedside table and there was a message waiting for me. Tristan. The only one besides Lucian with my number.
His words were simple.
Call me when you get this. URGENT!!
I checked out the time. It was 10 a.m. It would be 5 a.m. back home. I weighed it up, but the instruction was clear. There was that little instinctive feeling of worry that couldn’t be shaken off. My finger pressed the call button and I waited for it to connect, telling myself I’d give him just a few seconds to pick up, in case he was sleeping, but he wasn’t. He answered in a beat.
“Lainey, thank fuck you called. You’re all over the news here in a whole other way.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. “What other way?”
“They’ve figured out who it is. They figured out it’s Lucian Morelli. The gossip blogs are saying he’s with you, and you are a fucking couple.”
For once the gossip channels were surprisingly accurate. Made a change. Still, the thought that people were talking about it, realizing it, gossiping about it…our families would be realizing it, too. Shit!
“They’ll be coming after you,” Tristan said, stating the obvious. “You know that. They’ll be coming after you damn quick.”
“Yeah, I do know that,” I said. “We both do. Me and Lucian.”
“You gonna run again, then?” he asked me. “Get the hell out of London whatever you do. That’s where the rumors say you are.”
I bit my lip before I answered, registering just how brazen our plans were to step out together over here and let the world know we belonged together.
“You are going to run, right?” Tristan asked.
“No,” I told him. “We’re not. We’re going to a West End show together this weekend.”
He took a breath. He actually sucked in a breath. “Are you both out of your fucking minds? You know they’ll come for you!”
Yes, I knew that, but I also had faith in Lucian, and how strong he was in forging our new life here and making it secure. I didn’t even try telling Tristan that, because his faith in the monster who knocked him unconscious wasn’t likely to be all that high.
“We’ll be alright,” I said. “We have plans.”
“Don’t do this, Lainey. Please, don’t do this. They’ll try to kill you. Run away!”
I sounded weirdly self-assured when I answered, with a strength in my tone I didn’t expect to hear. “I don’t want to run away,” I told him. “I want to stand by Lucian. They can come for us if they like, but I’m going to be alongside him, in the spotlight for everyone to see.”
“Then you’re fucking insane. Call me when you come to your damn senses,” he said, and hung up.
Tristan had never once hung up on me in all the years I’d known him. I’d lost my damn senses plenty of damn times throughout our friendship, but never enough to wind him up enough to end a call.