by Selina Marie
“Take them off,” he almost groans. I hesitate a little and his eyes snap to mine, a smirk on his face
“Unless you want me to take them off… you know how much I would love to add these to my little collection.” He laughs seductively and I know he’s referring to the thong he ripped off me, that I haven’t seen again. He has it. I can’t decide if that’s what makes me even wetter or the fact that his fingers are lightly travelling up the insides of my legs. I raise my hips looking down at him waiting, hoping he’ll help me out. He grins as he continues up my thighs, out to my hips gripping the delicate lace between his fingers and slowly moving it down my legs so I’m completely exposed in front of him.
My pulse is erratic now as I watch him, waiting for his next command that I know my inexperienced body will follow, not because I’m drunk on him but because I want to.
“Lean back and spread your legs open for me. I want to taste you, baby.” His pupils are blown, and I can see his chest moving rapidly. Maybe he isn’t as calm and collected as he seems.
I almost back down at that moment, tell him no and get up and leave. But underneath the nerves and the unknown is the burning desire to stay, to feel his tongue on me. God knows I’ve thought of it plenty of times before, but now it’s real. And I could not want it more.
Slowly, I open my knees first, his eyes on mine looking like he might snap and consume his prey: me.
I open my thighs, spreading them as far as I can when he looks down between my legs, swallowing before he speaks, “You’re so fucking perfect, Emilia.”
His tongue licks up the inside of my thigh and has me moaning, my head thrown back against the sofa. I gasp as he bites lightly on the flesh of my thigh, causing a surge of heat to flow straight between my legs. My body is still singing from the sensation of his tongue and teeth, still adjusting when—
“Ohmyfuckinggod!” I scream when his mouth licks up my pussy, closing over my clit and sucking. My hips buck, moving further into his face making him moan, adding even more vibration to my clit, which he is still sucking between his teeth. No one has ever touched me like this before and I’m sensitive as fuck. Only I want more. He takes advantage of the position as my hips are lifted, pushing my pussy into his mouth. His hands come underneath me, so he’s holding me up, grabbing my ass and hips, keeping me in place against his face and he continues his onslaught of pleasure. My fists clenching and unclenching at my sides, need something to grab onto, I find his hair and wrap my fingers around it at the roots, fighting a battle of pushing him further into me and pulling him back because it’s too much.
His tongue leaves my clit to throb as it traces around the rest of my pussy, my nerve endings on fire. Lukas tastes every inch of me, not a single spot left untouched by his mouth. Our moans fill the silence; I’m panting like a cat in heat and his low grunts and growls are muffled because his mouth is full of me. I gasp when his thumb starts to rub gentle circles over my clit and his tongue moves lower; he flicks and pushes his tongue forward at the same time until it’s inside of me sparking sensations I never knew could be ignited this way.
It’s overwhelming, his thumb on my clit and his tongue inside of me, and I can feel the building of pressure in my belly. It’s like a fire is igniting and the flames just keep getting hotter. Suddenly his tongue is no longer inside of me but back on my clit, his lips tight forming suction, and the tip of his tongue darts out flicking it until I can’t see. I am getting higher and higher to reaching the inferno and bursting into euphoric flames. I can feel it. I’m going to come so hard.
But I don’t.
There’s a little popping sound, then his mouth nor his hands are no longer on my body. He leans back on his heels, still kneeling, his face flushed, lips shining with me spread all over them. His eyes are wild like he is desperately trying to control a beast that’s seconds away from breaking out of the cage and mauling anything or anyone in its path.
Still panting trying to catch my breath and also attempting not to kill him because what the fuck!
His eyes snap to mine and I realize I said that out loud. Good!
“What the fuck!” I say again, louder this time so that he definitely hears me.
He’s still a little breathless too but manages his signature smirk with a gleam in his eye, and says,
“Maybe you’ll think twice next time you want to break my rules.”
He gets up, standing and readjusts himself because he is currently sporting the biggest hard-on I have ever seen in my life.
Lukas turns to leave but just before he does, he looks at me once again, his face a mask of indifference now.
“I told you, I’m not in a generous mood. That was all for me.” He laughs and leaves the room, and my jaw hits the fucking floor.
I don’t know whether to feel humiliated, exhilarated, embarrassed or murderous. I settle on enraged. I know he’s an asshole, but denying a woman an orgasm, albeit her first orgasm from having someone eat her out, is downright brutal and cruel. Not that he knew—but it’s just common courtesy.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Lukas
Two Weeks later...
Two weeks have passed since I almost made Emilia come on my tongue, and to say I regretted refusing her her orgasm is the biggest understatement of the century, but I was proving a point.
Earlier that morning I had a lead come through about Alexis (Yes, I lied—again.) I told her that I’d discovered something and when she’d asked if it was about her dear sister, I said no, that it was something I had discovered about myself. Which was in-part true I suppose, but it was absolutely about Alexis.
Alexis and the little lies she weaves. Had I known she would cause such a disruption to my life, my family and my sanity, I would never have laid my eyes on her. That would have been pretty hard for a horny eighteen-year-old teenager like myself at the time, who really wanted to get his dick continuously wet, which I did. In fact, my dick would be lucky if it was dry for a forty-eight-hour period.
Alexis and I were in the same classes at school, and it was as cliché as you could get, we were both popular at school—her more so than me—but that was due to the fact that she liked to fuck around with every single athlete in the school and flaunt it, and not subtly either. I, on the other hand, was a little more discreet, because I had to be. With a family like mine I had no other option.
I remember one time before anything had happened between her and I, a faculty member had caught her fucking some dick behind the bike shed. She was then caught sucking off that same faculty member not only fifteen minutes later. The girl had a reputation. Before everything happened with Elijah, I’d thought she was alright. My dick enjoyed her somewhat, if you enjoy being wanked off under the science lab desk at the same time the teacher is asking you what equation represents "the photoelectric effect." I still got the answer right though, so I guess I wasn’t that distracted by her hand wrapped around my cock.
My little game of truth or dare put me through a loop. Emilia’s truth made me question everything. I thought she was just like her sister, a liar and so much more, but every part of me fought through the guilt, telling me I was wrong. I have a suspicion, and for now it’s just that, and until I uncover the truth, that’s all it will remain.
I spent a lot of time, a lot of energy and money over the past couple of weeks looking for more information on Alexis, and to say it paid off, is an understatement.
Turns out that no matter how far you think you might have people under your thumb, and in your pocket, there is usually some other asshole with his fingers in the honey jar a little deeper. The knowledge majorly fucked me off, but I had time to get it out of my system. I took it out on my punching bag and a couple of faces with names that I have no interest of knowing.
With a little violence and threats, I managed to blackmail a name out of Inspector Monroe, whose wife really wouldn’t want to find out that her husband is fucking his deputy chief officer. Or that her husband of thirty-three years is in fac
t very gay. A low blow and not my usual style, minus the violence and threats, but it is what it is. Someone has information and they’re trying to keep it hidden. That’s not an option.
The name I was given was a man named Andrew Caper. Instantly I knew exactly who he was. Andrew knew my father back when his worthless ass still inhabited a beating heart—not that kind of heart, the only thing it did was pump blood around his futile body. The man was incapable of feeling anything except for the sick joy he took knowing he could crush anything meaningful in the palm of his hands without thinking twice. Crush the heart, soul and spirit of his sons when he watched the woman who raised them—loved them—reaching out for his help as his wife, our mother, was beaten and raped by his herd of drunken mobsters right in front of our eyes. Right before he walked away and let them mercilessly take her life.
Andrew knew my father well. He’d been very well acquainted with him a long time before my father was dead. He was like my father—a very powerful man. But not as powerful as me.
It seems that Andrew has something to hide and for some reason that includes him paying off Inspector Monroe an obscene amount of money. Turns out he’s paying them more to keep their mouths shut, than I am paying to keep their mouths open and talking.
Now that I have his name and know what he has been up to, leads me closer to the most important part of all of this, the why.
What could he possibly want to keep hidden away and why does it have anything to do with Alexis Blake? That’s the multi-million-dollar question—quite literally.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Emilia
Two weeks have passed since I almost came on Lukas’s tongue and I can’t seem to think about anything fucking else and it’s driving me insane. That’s a lie, I have been able to think about some other things, like finding my sister. Apart from the radio silence between Lukas and I, I have been doing some research of my own, I’ve had to. Even after Lukas’s proposition about us working together to find out more about Alexis’s case, he has barely said one word to me in the entire two weeks. It doesn’t bother me too much though; I’ve been investigating on my own since she went missing, but it is frustrating when it was his idea.
Looking back at the notes page I have saved in my phone, I go over all of the information that I know so far, that I’ve combed through more than a thousand times. But what’s another thousand in the grand scheme of things when it comes to your own sister’s life?
The information I have briefly states the date that Lexi went missing, all of her information, her date of birth, location, address, the logistics. All of this stuff I know by heart. Then comes her whereabouts before she went missing, any calls or texts—which were none apparently—which doesn’t make a lot of sense, my sister was one the most popular girls at our high school—not in the best way, but still her phone was constantly beeping and buzzing with notification and texts. So sue if me if I think that is one hundred percent bullshit.
I had desperately tried to contact and speak with a number of her "friends" in the months that passed after she went missing, and apart from a few apologies about not really knowing anything, I came up empty. The world frustrating doesn’t even cut it. Someone has to know something! They just have to. There were so many times where it all became too much for me; I cried until my throat hurt, my voice gone, and my eyes had no tears left to shed. The pain of being left with nothing, no closure, no answers was too much.
Then a day later I would pick myself up and start all over again, because there was no other option, I had to keep going and be strong.
I throw my phone down on my bed, lying back into the pillows burying my head, huffing out a breath of frustration. There is still nothing new. No new leads for me to follow. Just like a few months ago I called up the police department, asking again if there had been any updates. I was told no, and when I asked if they could send me the reports or anything that could help me, they said that would go against confidentiality.
Seriously? What the fuck! I am her fucking sister, fuck confidentiality! I believe I said something of a similar effect to the police officer on the phone, to which she responded by hanging up on me.
My mind trails off and I wonder what is with the silent treatment from Lukas. I get up to go and ask just that but as I throw my door open and step out, I collide with a thick block of muscle. The force nearly lands me on the floor, but a strong arm grips mine to keep me upright.
“Shit, sorry,” I say. Lukas says nothing as I steady myself and look up at him. I roll my eyes at his continued silence. Seriously?
“Okay, I’ll start.” My voice is laced with a heavy dose of sarcasm. My eyes narrow, done with his bullshit.
“Where the fuck have you been and what happened to working together to find Lexi? Which, by the way, was your idea!” I poke my finger into his chest as I scowl at him.
Lukas’s eyes are still on the area I had just pressed my finger into on his chest, a frown causing creases between his brows. His expression unphased as he lifts his head looking down at me from his full height.
“Some of us have to work, Emilia, and I think you’ll be very pleased with my efforts in finding your sister. Come downstairs to my office and we’ll discuss it further.” He speaks. Finally.
Lukas’s little dig at me doesn’t go unnoticed, or maybe I’m being overly sensitive, but it irritates me. The fact that I’m living off of him and his money, when the truth is that I can’t work because he won’t allow it. We both know this, but yet the way he said it pisses me off. I shake it off and focus. He found something. Fuck waiting, I want to know now.
“Just tell me now if you’ve found something, please,” I reply, getting more impatient by the second.
“If you’re sure.” There is a question in his voice to which I nod slightly.
I can feel my palms sweating and my heartbeat spiking a little, waiting for what he is going to say, bracing myself because he has found something. After the endless days and months I’ve spent searching till I bled and cried out all of the tears in my body desperately seeking answers, seeking anything, he’s found something.
Is he going to crack my heart into a million pieces and destroy what is left of me?
Or is he going to instill the hope I had given up on so long ago?
I swallow, raising my head so I’m looking straight up into those blues.
“Tell me,” I say, waiting for the blow. I must have decided his gaze is too intense when I find myself watching his chest, counting the number of breaths he takes before he speaks.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four…
“She’s alive.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Lukas
A gut-wrenching sob breaks through the silence as her body falls to the floor. Emilia shakes with cries, absorbing what I had said.
Her sister is alive. The girl who killed my brother is alive.
A part of me aches to go to her, to lift her up and hold her in my arms. But I don’t. Any hate I had felt towards her evaporates, watching her broken on the floor. She needs this moment, time to herself—to realize I am not her hero. She doesn’t really need me; she’s been fighting all her life and it made her into the strong woman she is.
It is in that moment, amidst the constant war inside of my head over who Emilia Blake really is, that I accept this for what it is. I’m in a continuous battle with myself, over why I hate her and why I’m falling in love with her.
Emilia has just found out that her sister, who has been missing for the past two years, is alive and well; very well in fact, but I haven’t told her that. She doesn’t need to know just yet, and to be honest, I think it might destroy her if she knew that this whole time she’s been desperate for her sister to come home, to be her family, Alexis has been only a four-hour drive away, living in one of the most upscale privileged areas, in a gated community called Emerald Hills.
Alexis has access to all the technology available to
the queen of fucking England but didn’t bother once to let her own sister know she was safe and alive. That’s the girl I remembered, and if for a second I show any sympathy or remorse for what is to come, her actions rectified that right away. Alexis Blake is alive and well.
Alexis Blake is a selfish fucking bitch.
Alexis Blake is going to pay for her sins.
There’s still so much she doesn’t know, so much I can’t tell her. Selfishly, I know if she knew, it would break her and then she would leave. She wouldn’t help me, and I need her. Her knowledge is my power and she still has no idea.
Bending down, I scoop her up into my arms and place her down gently on the bed. The sobbing has started to fade now, as she calms down and catches her breath. I go to move away and give her some privacy but her soft hand clutches onto my arm making me stop half-way up from the bed.
“Wait, how did you…” She croaks and shakes her head as if she’s telling herself that it doesn’t matter how.
“Do you know where she is?” she asks, her voice cracking and still full of emotion, like her tear-stained cheeks.
Subconsciously, my fingers stroke across her cheek, wiping away the wet tears traveling slowly down her face. Her skin’s like silk, my body not wanting to leave hers.
This fragile side of her stirs something in me and brings me back to that first night. Maybe it’s my own fragility, but it can’t be because there’s nothing fragile left inside of me, only my patience which constantly runs on a fine line waiting to overbalance, tip off the scale and smash into pieces.
Her grip around my arm loosens but doesn’t drop completely, and as I reluctantly move my fingers away from her porcelain skin, she watches me still waiting for me to tell her.