by Tamara Hogan
Thank the universe he wasn’t wearing underwear, because it meant nothing impeded her access to the treasure mounded underneath. Finally freed from confinement, his penis positively sprang into her hands. Twining her legs around his bare hips, caging him, she wrapped both trembling hands around his outrageous length and gently pulled him toward her aching heat.
Or tried to, anyway. At her touch, Lukas’s massive body stilled. Scarlett tightened her grasp in warning, challenging him with her eyes. If he was going to pull away from her for good, she was bitch enough to make him stroke himself through her hands to do it.
A sigh shuddered through his frame, and then his expression smoothed out in resolve. Sweat popped at his hairline and above his upper lip before he finally dropped his forehead to hers. Finally flexed his hips toward her, pushing his hardness into her grasp.
“You’re going to regret this,” he breathed against her lips.
“Never.” Letting go for a moment, Scarlett threaded her fingers through his hair again and kissed him, blinking back tears of relief. She didn’t know where this would ultimately go, but at least now they had a chance to find out. “I need you inside me, Lukas.”
His eyes were molten as he pulled her butt to the edge of the desk and spread her knees with his hands. Stepping closer, he fit his blunt tip against her wet opening.
Scarlett moaned as she looked down to where their bodies were about to join. Seeing his big hand clasped around his own cock with such authority was about the hottest thing she’d ever seen.
Lukas pushed, breaching her with the broad head. Then, with a sharply indrawn breath, he suddenly withdrew. Backed away.
Her jaw dropped. “No way. I’m—”
“Condom,” he gritted, his expression looking like a man walking to the gallows. “No condom.”
Relief sheeted through her. “Go get one.” He did, returning from the bathroom before she could miss his body heat, with the condom already in place. She strummed the triangular band of muscle bracketing his groin with her thumbs before bringing him back to her lush portal. “Now let me have you. I don’t want to feel anything but you.”
His eyes flared with heat at her words, and he pressed himself into her ever so slowly. Scarlett tossed her head as he fed her the first stinging inches.
She wanted fast and frantic. He couldn’t fill her fast enough to suit her. Stroking him where her body stretched desperately to take him, she reached underneath his penis to cup his heavy sack.
He surged into her, knocking the breath out of her lungs. He loomed over her body, his eyes screwed tightly closed, breath heaving as he fought to keep himself still, even as she dug her heels into his ass, a rider spurring a stallion.
“Love me, Lukas. Love me. Let me love you.”
So many emotions flitted across his face: wonder, guilt, desperation, stark pain chased by voluptuous pleasure. And finally the pleasure won. With a groan that sounded like he was being dragged to the depths of hell, she felt him finally slip the leash.
Chapter 20
“Lukas, I’m going to break an ankle,” Scarlett said, tottering on high-heeled boots. “Slow down. It’s just our family.”
He complied. They were really late, and despite their shower not a half hour ago, they probably still reeked of sex. “Why do women wear shoes they can’t walk in?” he asked the cement ceiling of the Sebastiani Building parking ramp.
She shot him an exasperated look. “Whose fault is it that my knees are knocking? Help me out here.”
Wrapping an arm around her waist, they walked to the private elevator at a more leisurely pace. Lukas swiped his keycard and glanced about the parking ramp as they waited for it to descend from the penthouse level. “We’re over an hour late,” he said testily. “I thought your friends would never leave.”
“Hey, don’t blame Tansy and Stephen. I could have showered a lot faster if you hadn’t ‘helped’ me.” She couldn’t control the heat that flashed in her eyes even as she rolled them. “I’m starving,” she muttered. “Rafe’s probably eaten all the cheesy bread.”
“I’m sure your mother saved you a piece or two.” And if she hadn’t, he’d make another batch himself, because Scarlett having an appetite was not an occasion to waste. While she’d filled out slightly since she’d been staying with him, she was still too thin.
Not that that stopped him from pounding into her body like a jackhammer at every opportunity in the past day.
The elevator announced its arrival with a soft chime and a swoosh of doors, and they stepped in. “I think Stephen really needed some company today,” Scarlett said. “Thanks again for letting me invite them over.”
Waking that morning with Scarlett still draped over his body, he’d told her she could have some visitors over if she wanted to. Her smile had rivaled the sun, and she’d peppered his face with thankful kisses. One kiss led to another, and… Lukas inhaled as he remembered the sight of Scarlett’s fiery hair spread over the quilt the faeries had pulled kicking and screaming from his subconscious. Pushing into her body as she lay atop it felt like a long-lost puzzle piece finally clicking into place. He wanted to wallow in her, to never leave his bed, but Scarlett’s stomach had growled. After eating, she’d showered and then immediately picked up the phone.
He’d attempted to work at his upstairs desk, but once Tansy, her bondmates, Stephen, and Michael arrived, the noise level scraped like claws, and someone smelled like an ashtray. He’d abdicated host duties to Scarlett and went downstairs. Leaving for a while had probably been for the best, because who was he kidding? It would be a long, long time before he could work at that desk without remembering how Scarlett looked spread upon it, a quivering, fragrant feast, demanding that he love her.
He had.
He… did.
As the elevator rose, so did the heat and tension between them. Clearing her throat, Scarlett reached into her purse, withdrew a tube of lipstick, and turned to the elevator’s mirrored wall to reapply the color he’d kissed off at every stoplight between Sebastiani Security and his father’s place.
Lukas stared as she stroked the moist color over her lips. After so many years of ignoring each other, of most emphatically not touching each other, now they could barely keep their hands—or their eyes—to themselves. He was absurdly proud that he’d put that blissed-out expression on her face, but he didn’t want anyone to see it yet but him. His siblings didn’t have an ounce of discretion, couth, or sense of personal boundaries between them.
The night to come had train wreck written all over it.
“Stephen thinks you’re hot,” Scarlett teased. “He couldn’t stop looking at you.” She mumbled something under her breath as she capped the lipstick and threw it back in the purse.
“What?”
“I said, I can’t fault his taste.” A smile lit her face. “Are you blushing?”
“No.” His hot face contradicted his words.
“Yes, you are. Why?”
He shifted his weight on feet that suddenly felt like they’d grown five sizes. While he knew he was a competent lover, and prided himself on never leaving a partner unsatisfied, he was under no illusions about his looks. His brother Rafe had the face and body that women swooned over. Him? He was a throwback. He had size, muscles, and a preternatural ability to fight and protect. He lived in his body, and in most places—particularly between her fragile thighs—he felt too big, too rough.
She waited for him to answer, her head tilted up to his on a twig of a neck he could snap between his fingers. She was so small, but she’d taken him like a custom fit. He cleared his throat. “I didn’t have anything to do with what I look like.”
Scarlett rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. Your parents may have provided the basic genetic material, but for as much time you spend riding a desk, I notice you’re not succumbing to middle-aged spread.” She stroked his flat midsection, her hand coming to rest at his belt buckle. “You work out more than any person I know.”
Because oth
erwise I’d fucking explode. Lukas eyed her steadily. Neither of them moved, but her eyes had softened, darkened. Mandarin sparked into the elevator like someone had peeled an orange. She might just as well have grabbed his dick and stroked. He stepped closer, whispering, “Just so you know, Stephen’s not my type.”
Scarlett tipped her head back. Shifted her weight toward him.
Ting.
The elevator bumped to a stop on the tenth floor. And they just stood looking at each other. Breathing each other. The doors started to close, and Lukas cleared his throat, pushing his hand into the gap to stop them. “After you.”
As Scarlett stepped out, she glanced at her apartment door on the other side of the foyer. “As long as we’re here, I’ll pick up a few things. Why don’t you go on over? I’ll catch up with you in a couple of minutes.”
Lukas’s imagination ignited as he remembered the last batch of supplies that had come from Scarlett’s apartment. “If you have any other toys like that yellow vi—”
“Shut. Up.”
Face flaming, she stalked across the foyer, digging in her purse for her key. As she unlocked the door, Lukas eyed her spectacular ass as it shifted and flexed under her snug jeans. He didn’t want to let her out of his sight, but she was as safe here as she was at his place, and they both knew it.
And maybe he’d have better luck jerking his unruly body back under control if he was alone for a couple of minutes. Remembering the ecstatic moans he’d coaxed from Scarlett with that diabolical yellow toy had made him as hard as a rock.
“Don’t take too long,” he said as she ducked inside.
She rolled her eyes and disappeared, the snick of the closing door echoing in the empty foyer.
After a couple of minutes, he entered his father’s apartment. Noises and smells assaulted him while he hung his leather jacket up in the closet. Antonia’s violin squawked from behind her closed bedroom door, fighting with the jazz playing softly in the living room. Sasha and Rafe sat on the couch, arguing about something. He walked past them with a wave, got two waves back, and followed his nose to the kitchen.
The scent of garlic and onions permeated the place as spaghetti sauce simmered on the stove top. Pillows of homemade ravioli were lined up on the cluttered granite cooking island, and a big pot of water boiled, untended, next to the sauce.
A quick glance around the room told him why. His father had Claudette pressed up against the door of the stainless steel refrigerator as he delivered a blistering kiss. Her hands twined into his father’s hair while they devoured each other.
At least I’m not alone in this madness. What was it about the Fontaine women that turned Sebastiani men into slobbering beasts? “You’re corrupting me,” Lukas said with a grin, despite the bittersweet feelings that unexpectedly hijacked him.
His father loved again.
Elliott abruptly lifted his mouth from Claudette’s, and Lukas crossed the room to greet them. As he leaned down to hug Claudette, she swiped her manicured thumb across the corner of his lip, blandly displaying smudges of Scarlett’s lipstick. Plucking a tissue from the box on a nearby counter, she handed it to him and asked, “Just where is my daughter, anyway?”
Damn it. “Next door. She’ll be back in a minute.” Lukas scrubbed at his mouth. Sure enough, the tissue came away stained with Scarlett’s red lipstick. Thankfully he could wipe away the evidence before talking with his siblings, all of whom would bust his balls over this with loud, smacking relish. Tucking the tissue in his pocket, he gestured to the boiling water. “Need some help?” Without waiting for an answer, he transferred pasta to the pot.
“The bread should be nearly done,” Claudette said, opening the oven. “Better snag a piece now before Rafe smells it.”
Elliott poured them each a glass of pinot noir. While the three of them worked companionably, Claudette grilled him about the investigation into Annika’s death and asked pointed questions about Scarlett’s well-being.
“Let’s eat in here tonight.” Claudette reached into the cabinet for a stack of casual plates.
Elliott gently took the plates from her grasp. “I’ll set the table. Why don’t you tell everyone we’re ready to eat?”
Lukas shook his head. Did he look at Scarlett as hungrily, as possessively, as his father looked at Claudette? Were his feelings as nakedly displayed? Christ, he hoped not.
He heard the apartment door open and close. The squawking violin blessedly stopped. Greetings and laughter filtered in from the foyer, along with the mildest taste of mandarin. Scarlett was back.
“This get-together was a good idea,” Elliott said softly. “Claudette is so worried about Scarlett.”
Lukas’s inner antennae twitched as his father’s voice trailed off. Worry? His father stank of it. “What’s wrong?”
The swinging door burst open, and the kitchen filled with squabbling Sebastianis. They were followed by Scarlett and Claudette, who walked with their arms wrapped around each other’s waists, heads close together.
“Oof!” Lukas caught Antonia as she launched herself at him, her knobby knee narrowly missing his balls. Rafe winced in commiseration.
Antonia sniffed. “You and Scarlett are having sex, aren’t you?”
Jesus. Lukas felt like he’d just taken a shot to the testicles after all. Scarlett’s jaw dropped. “Remember what we talked about, Antonia?”
“But you’re not a stranger. Are you boyfriend and girlfriend, or are you just sleeping together?”
“Excellent question, Antonia,” Sasha said with a shit-eating grin. “Lukas, is Scarlett your girlfriend?”
Lukas shot Sasha a look that said “bitch” every bit as clearly as if he’d spoken it aloud, and then looked at Scarlett, who suddenly seemed very interested in the kitchen’s hickory hardwood floor. How the hell was he supposed to answer such a question? “Girlfriend” was much too tepid a word to describe his snarled-up feelings.
“It’s really none of your business,” he said to his sisters.
“That means ‘yes,’” Antonia told Sasha.
“Girls, quit teasing your brother,” Elliott said. “Everyone, please sit down. We’re ready to eat.”
Everyone grabbed a dish or an item needed for dinner, setting the table as they went, as was their routine. Without thinking about it, they’d set the table for eight. Annika’s chair sat empty, like a socket missing its tooth. And until he felt his siblings’ eyes on him, Lukas didn’t realize that he’d taken the seat next to Scarlett rather than his usual position across the table, next to Antonia.
Elliott approached the table with a bottle of chilled Moët, and Claudette followed, carrying champagne flutes. Lukas turned to Scarlett, a question in his eyes.
“Don’t ask me,” she murmured, placing her hand on his upper thigh under the table. “I’ve been your prisoner for over a week.”
Everyone waited until Elliott poured the champagne. “Claudette and I have an announcement to make.”
“You’re sleeping together too?” Antonia said. “Duh.”
Elliott looked to the ceiling, took a deep breath, and then said, “Claudette has agreed to become my bondmate.”
While Scarlett, Sasha, and Antonia congratulated his father and Claudette, Lukas looked on with mounting concern. It was one thing to know their parents were companions, in a relationship. But… bondmates? This news would rock the very foundation of the Underworld Council.
Rafe sidled close, jabbing him in the ribs with his elbow. “Sleeping with your stepsister? Pretty kinky, dude.”
Lukas shot his brother a withering look and joined in the congratulations.
***
It was well past 2:00 a.m. when the last toast was offered, the last dish was washed, and last hugs good-bye were bestowed. As Lukas pulled out of the now-empty Sebastiani Building parking ramp, Scarlett tipped her head back against the soft leather headrest. “Oh, man.” She looked at Lukas, sitting in command in the driver’s seat, and thought about the comment she’d overheard Raf
e make to Lukas upon hearing the news. “This is officially weird.”
Lukas smiled slightly, tapping his big fingers against the steering wheel as he navigated the short route back to Sebastiani Security. “After everything that’s happened lately, it’s great to finally have something to celebrate.”
Scarlett looked over to the man who’d shared so much of her life. Their parents were going to be bondmates. If their relationship didn’t work, she’d never be able to escape him.
Lukas braked the car to a stop as they approached a snarl of traffic. Scarlett dragged her eyes away from his flexing thigh muscles. “Sure is a lot of traffic for a weeknight,” she said, covering a yawn with her hand. “I’m glad we’re almost home. I really shouldn’t have had that third glass of—”
“Get down,” he ordered, jerking the steering wheel. The car swerved violently.
But she wasn’t fast enough. Flashbulbs blinded them as Lukas wove the big car through the gauntlet of people and haphazardly parked vehicles blocking the entrance to Sebastiani Security.
“Shit.”
Crouched down in the front seat, Scarlett shivered at Lukas’s feral tone. As they drove past Sebastiani Security, she poked her head up and saw what Lukas had: Chico, relieving a trespasser of a handgun, ejecting a clip into his hand.
Finally clear of the crowd, Lukas hit the gas and sailed down Washington Avenue, not stopping for lights, and not speaking until they hit the exit for northbound 35W.
“Where are we going?” Scarlett said with resignation. Tears stung. She was so tired of feeling like an animal in a cage. Just so tired.
Lukas’s hand covered hers. “Fancy a trip to the lake?”