by Selina Marie
“I need words, Emilia, say yes.”
“Yes.” The ‘s’ barely leaves my mouth before his is on mine, devouring me. The kiss is carnal and not pretty—it’s pure need—tongues dancing furiously, teeth hitting together, but it’s perfect in its torture. I feel his hands move to my jeans popping the button open, yanking them down. He pauses briefly, making eye contact, asking silent permission and the desperate moan that leaves me is confirmation enough. I won’t fight him on it, I want it. I crave it.
Lukas growls when he sees the deep blue lace thong I’m wearing—which is doing nothing to hide the ocean between my legs. Dark and dilated eyes move up my body taking their time on their journey, lingering on my breasts, then up to my lips then eyes, where they stay. A raw possession and passion has taken over.
Lukas watches me closely, then—a tear—I gasp, feeling the cool air hit my pussy and the sting of where my thong scraped across my hip. He ripped my thong off my body. Holy Fuck! Expert fingers skate across my hip moving towards my core and I won’t be surprised if there’s a puddle on the floor from how soaked I am.
His finger glides between my lips before one sinks into my pussy.
“Mmm,” I can’t help but moan when he strokes his finger inside of me, then takes it out licking his index finger with the tip of his tongue, groaning before bringing it to my mouth and moving it across my lips.
“Taste, baby, you taste so fucking good. My new favorite flavor.” I lick the tip of his finger and it’s not as bad as I thought it might be. Quite sweet, and more than anything it only adds to the desire torching every cell in my body right now. And just like that, I know what I want, and I have the tits to say it.
“I want what you said before… I want your mouth on me, I want everything you said.”
“Come on, Kiska, I need your words. Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”
I can’t breathe I am so hot for him. Fuck it. “I want you to bend me over your desk. I want you to taste my pussy and suck on my clit until I’m screaming for you to stop. And then I don’t want you to stop.”
A deep rumble erupts from his chest and his head now drops to the crook of my neck.
“What are you doing to me,” he mumbles into my neck and I don’t think I was meant to hear it. I can feel his heavy breaths on my skin, deep and rapid, his chest hitting mine with each inhale. As the seconds go by, I can feel the energy change in the air between us.
The cloud of lust that had fogged our minds is starting to clear and I can’t help but feel my throat tighten and a small sting of rejection needle its way into my chest.
I pull up my jeans fastening the button, noting my thong isn’t on the floor or anywhere in sight. But who the fuck cares anyway, it’s not like I was going to be wearing it, he shredded it. I bring a hand to Lukas’s chest, pushing him back gently causing him to take a couple steps back. His eyes are masked again—they look like black ice. Dark with something that resembles torment behind them, which was gone in the next second.
My eyes are glued to the floor at his expensive leather shoes when I clear my throat and speak, “As I was saying, I think it’s best if I stay with Melody. I think it would be better for both of us to stay away from each other.” I raise my shield of steel back up, unwilling to give him power over me again.
Lukas shoves his hands into his pockets and looks at me with an expression I can’t decipher. He looks unaffected, but what else am I expecting, a big grin?
I haven’t seen Lukas smile once, which irritates me some. It makes me curious about him, his life, what he does and who he is. What makes him so cold? But it is pointless for me to wonder about him. He’s a closed book. And truth be told I’m not sure if I want to open it. He is already unravelling my tightly bound heart I’ve protected for so long—secured with barbed wire—and it feels like every time we are close, a dark chapter of my life is coming to an end.
Lukas sits in his chair looking up and scrubbing his stubble with his hands.
“I’ll look into it, do the necessary checks. Melody, is it?” He pulls out his phone, looking down at the screen typing with swift fingers. Fingers that were inside of my body only moments ago.
What happened between then and now to make him shut down? It’s obvious he wanted it just as much as I did but then he stopped; he asked me to tell him what I wanted. I did, and he rejected me. Asshole.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” I snap, feeling a little used and a lot pissed off. “Melody does not need a fucking background check! We have been friends since we were seven years old. I trust her a hell of a lot more than I trust you!” I shout, my temper getting worse the more I speak. I turn, stalking out of the room when a hard tug on my arm pulls me back.
“What are you doing?! Let go of me!”
“Sit the fuck down, Emilia.” Lukas waits for me to sit. I don’t.
“Fine. Stand.” He puffs out a frustrated breath, a deep frown etched on his face. His eyes shift all over, like he’s thinking.
“I’ll help you find her,” he says bluntly. I stand there in silence, confused, and it must be clear on my features. “Your sister. I have the money to do so and—” I cut him off, a little in awe.
“Wait why do you want to help me? How do you even know about her?” I guess it was a pretty big headline for a small town when it first happened, before everybody just suddenly stopped searching—everyone but me. “You don’t think she is dead, like everybody else?” It hurts my heart to say those words out loud, but I have to know if he is as heartless as the rest of the people in this town.
Lukas looks down and I can see his brows pull tight together as he frowns. “It’s a small town, people talk. It was big news at the time. I put two and two together. And as for me wanting to help you… Please, Emilia, I think we’ve established I’m not totally satanic.” Lukas loosens his tie from around his neck distracting me momentarily, only for a second. It appears his admission that he isn’t the Devil pained him in some way, his eyes look tortured.
“Okay, but what’s in it for you? What’s the catch?” I eye him suspiciously, waiting for the ball to drop.
Lukas smirks, rolling his sleeves up, the ropes in his forearms tensing with the movement.
“Smart girl. The catch is, if you want me to help you find Alexis, you must stay here under my protection.” He leans back in his chair extending his legs out. “And maybe there isn’t anything in it for me, just the knowledge that you’ll be safe with me.” I scoff because yeah, right. The dark gleam in his eyes says otherwise.
“Okay. I’ll bite. And how exactly do you intend on re-opening a case from almost two years ago?” I ask, genuinely curious. “I’ve been harassing the police for the past eighteen months after they just gave up! You can’t tell me that you can just wave your wallet in their faces and suddenly they have something.” I almost yell.
“Then you underestimate the power of money, Kiska. I’ll need you to tell me everything you know.” He pauses and stands from his chair. “There is nothing more powerful than knowledge and money, not in this world anyway.”
Lukas looks away from me before turning and asking, “So, do we have a deal beautiful?” He checks his Rolex on his wrist.
I pause a little too long, distracted. He thinks I’m beautiful. No one has ever called me that, even if he might not mean it.
This is a lot. I’ve only ever trusted myself when it comes to looking into my sister’s disappearance. I don’t know if I can trust him; she’s my weak spot. I’d have to be vulnerable and tell him things I have only ever told my best friend. He stands there, only two feet away, now watching me closely.
When I lay it all out in my head it makes sense for me to agree. I mean yes, we have chemistry and an unhealthy attraction to one another, but maybe it will pass. If we have a distraction like searching for Alexis, then that should take over any other emotions or temptation, right? She’ll be our focus.
As far as staying here goes, it isn’t as if I’ll be here fore
ver, just while we are working together. He says I’ll be safe here with him, and I know he means from Robert. I still haven’t heard a peep from him at all, so am I really in as much danger as Lukas thinks? I don’t understand his actions. For all we know, Robert is dead.
Maybe Lukas has a hero complex, a fucked up one anyway.
He clears his throat bringing me back to the room.
“I have three questions before I decide. One, what happens if we can’t find anything? Two, what happens if we do find her?” My voice cracks with emotion. My mind wandering to dark places I try to stop it from going. But if we really are going to do this, I need to face it, I need to be ready for either outcome. My eyes glass over, reality dawning on me that what if my sister is safe and living on some exotic island somewhere living the high life (which I would probably kill her for anyway for putting me through so much pain).
But… what if my sister is dead?
I’ve spent so long searching for her, looking for clues, evidence—anything. I have spent countless hours, days and nights walking through the streets, searching for the one constant in my life. I have been so focused on her being alive, never once letting the sinister thought that she might be dead cross my mind, because for me it isn’t an option. But now that I had voiced the question aloud, it hits me hard. My throat clogs with emotion that I can’t swallow back down and hide away until I’m alone and can let it out.
Movement catches my eye, Lukas’s fingers twitch by his side looking like they want to touch me, comfort me even, but he doesn’t. I try again at swallowing down the lump in my throat. Blinking away the unshed tears pooling in my eyes, I let out a humorless laugh, trying my hardest to lighten the mood. I don’t want him to see me like this. I clear my throat, concealing the sadness I keep hidden inside.
“And question three, what is ‘Kiska’?” I lift my head up, my eyes connecting with his for the first time in long minutes, his expression solemn, thoughtful, and then intrigued.
“First, if there is anything to find, I will find it. That’s a promise. Second, if we find her then we—you—will have your sister back, safe and sound.” The words ‘safe and sound’ spits like venom leaving his lips as he almost hisses them. I shrug it off though.
“And third, Kiska is Russian.” I catch a small grin after he says it.
“You speak Russian?” Color me intrigued. I mean I know he’s privileged, that much is obvious, but I haven’t heard of many English-speaking people to know the Russian language—it is usually the other way around. I think some people who have English as their first language get complacent and a little lazy. Just because the majority of the world speaks English doesn’t mean the effort shouldn’t go the other way.
“My father was Russian, so yes, I speak Russian.” He stops, not sharing any more information about himself. I want to know more and that’s when a question sparks in my head.
“Can I ask you a question?” I start, wanting to dig a little deeper in finding out the mystery that is Lukas whoever-he-is.
An amused frown makes a line in his forehead. “You’re asking me if you can ask a question?” He huffs out a quick laugh and the sound is so hauntingly beautiful. I want it again and again. “Ok, I can’t promise that I’ll answer it, but yeah, shoot.”
“I’m staying here with you and I don’t know anything about you, not even your full name… It’s a little weird.” I scrunch up my nose.
I want to maintain the light mood we have between us. It’s always so intense, that this is kind of refreshing, even if we were clawing at each other’s bodies in a haze of erotic desire only a few moments ago.
Lukas looks a little uncomfortable, a flash of uncertainty and resistance in his eyes. I know he’s reserved when it comes to disclosing information about himself, but I’m not asking for a lot. Just his name to start.
“Evans is my last name. Lukas Evans.” He’s fidgety, his fist clenching and unclenching like this is torture, talking about himself to me. It’s just a name, why is he so worked up?
It puts me on edge, and I don’t know why. There is this niggling feeling of more. More of what? I can’t tell you. There is just, more.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Lukas
I lied. I told Emilia my last name was Evans. Obviously, I fucking made it up. I had to think fast and here we are. I can’t risk her connecting the dots to my brother. It’s so goddamn trivial but if I’m being honest—as well as keeping my real identity hidden—I like that she doesn’t know who I am.
Everybody forms their own opinion of me from what they’ve heard through the grapevine or gossip blogs and media outlets, and about ninety-eight-point-nine percent of the time they’re right. But the other one-point-one percent of the time they’re wrong, and they are wrong where it counts, which has more to do with who I am as a person because of him, Viktor Elin—my father.
The thought of Viktor makes my gut stir. He created a monster. My mom tried her hardest to show me the light, no matter how dark things got, but after she died, I was a lost cause.
Now all I have is a craving to break and destroy everything around me, including the woman standing across the room.
I can feel my pulse spiking and my temper heating up like a blazing furnace. Emilia is watching me, and I know she senses the change in my mood, if it isn’t from the scowl I’m wearing, then it’s my fists braced and ready to punch something. I take a deep breath, willing the beast to simmer. I won’t allow him to come out. It’s a battle I fight every moment I spend with this intoxicating, beautiful liar. I doubt the girl is scared, not with the shit I won’t allow myself to imagine she’s been through. She hasn’t seen my kind of scary though. I hope she never does. She’s no damsel in distress. I know she’s strong; it’s one of the things I can’t help but admire about her. Her strength will serve her well with what’s to come.
I press her, still waiting for her words. I need her to say yes.
“Yes or no?”
“What if I say no?” There she is. That’s my girl challenging me.
My girl? What the fuck. She is not my girl. She is nothing.
I don’t know what she thinks she’ll accomplish by challenging me; she won’t win. I always get my way—one way or another. There’s an easy way and a hard way. I’m more than willing to show her both, but I don’t think she’ll like the hard way. Or maybe she will, I know she likes the fight between us—so do I.
Three strides later and I’m so close, close enough to smell her fruity scent that caresses my senses. My dick stirs at the exotic fragrance reminding me of the taste of her. I’m desperate not to have another moment where I lose sight of reality, like the fucking intense one we just had. Everything inside of me tells me to stop but my body doesn’t want to listen.
My body doesn’t give a shit if it breaks every rule in the fucking book. It’s pretty damn obvious that my cock wants to fuck her into the next century and doesn’t give a shit about the consequences. That’s where we have a problem. My mind and my body can battle it out. But in those moments with her, my body wins almost every time, meaning my conscience is pretty much fucked to hell. Though I never have had much of one anyway.
I lean into her and she takes a small step back as I invade her space again. It’s involuntary and I can tell by the way her chest moves rapidly and how her pupils dilate—she wants it. Emilia’s reaction makes my ego quake with smugness.
“You sure you want to say no, sweetheart? I think we both know you want to say yes. Multiple times.” I smirk as I taunt her, enjoying every moment her eyes widen a fraction more. I can’t help but laugh at the look of disbelief and desire in her eyes. “Let me put it this way, I don’t give a fuck what your answer is. Consider this your new home until further notice, so you can quit trying to convince me that it’s a good idea to stay with your little friend. I’ll pretend that this is the last thing you want but we both know that’s bullshit. You want to find your sister and I want—” I shut the fuck up before I tell her anything close to
the truth.
Her eyes are glued to my lips.
“You want what?”
I want her to shut the fuck up. She’s dragging too much from me, and I can’t stop myself. It’s as if she draws it out from my insides. I feel like I’m slipping away from the reason I’m keeping her here. There’s too much riding on me to screw it up. Elijah deserves better. My brother deserves justice. I can feel the rage bubbling up in my blood beneath my skin, unable to control the anger within me, too many thoughts racing through my head. I snap, getting in her face.
“I want you to accept this is the best offer you’re going to get. You want to be on the fucking street? Fine. Go. But if he finds you—touches you—I will rip him limb from fucking limb until he’s nothing but a heap of flesh on the ground. You’re mine.” Fury ricochets through my bones, my body shaking. She is mine. Mine to protect. Mine to destroy.
I need to get out. I can feel the beast teetering on the edge of release and the way she’s looking at me is fucking me up in ways I don’t want to acknowledge. I’ve been conditioned to be the monster my father forced me to be but there’s a part of her, the innocence in her eyes that makes me want to fight it. Elijah fell into the trap of Alexis Blake. He played with fire and he got burnt. I can’t let Emilia repeat history.
I storm out, my fist connecting with a wall, blood spreading down my knuckles. Sometimes the darkness takes a hold of me and pulls me deep under until I can’t see anything but the depths of my dark and tainted soul.
I slam my bedroom door behind me and lock it. My back thuds against the door in defeat. Every bit of guilt, shame, rage and torment are getting on top of me. It feels like a weight being pushed onto my shoulders and if I don’t relieve it soon, it will crush my bones to pulp.