Falling In

by Lydia Michaels

  She saw his confusion, but he nodded. “Okay, baby. How about I make us some breakfast?” She nodded, needing to get away from all the gifts for a while.

  Lucian made French toast for breakfast. It was delicious. She loved watching him cook. He seemed so relaxed, so ordinary. She found herself wishing he were.

  “What time will your sisters get here?”

  He glanced at the clock. “Probably sometime in the next two hours.”

  A nervous tickle danced across her chest. “Should we be cooking something?”

  “The turkey’s been in the oven since five. Isadora will bring the sides, and Antoinette will bring the desserts. I provide the booze, and Lucy dressed the formal dining room before she left.”

  “What should I wear?”

  “Wear whatever you’re comfortable in. It’s just family.”

  Yes, but not her family. Evelyn thought about Pearl and wondered how she was enjoying her holiday. So much time had gone by since she spoke to her. She’d never been away from her mother for more than a few days. “Lucian, can I call my mom?”

  He stilled as if he hadn’t considered Pearl. “Of course. I’m sorry, Evelyn. I should’ve let you do that first thing. If you want, we can go see her before my sisters arrive.”

  She shook her head. “No. I don’t think I’m up for that. I just want to call and wish her a merry Christmas.”

  He handed her a phone and a business card with a number hand written on the back. He busied himself with the dishes as she made the call. Pearl sounded . . . anxious.

  She was very curious about how long she’d stay at rehab and when Evelyn was coming to visit. Evelyn promised they’d come in the next couple of days, and in a paranoid whisper Pearl asked if she could come alone. She figured that would be okay, so she said yes. Her mother admitted she was very tired and they ended the call.

  That was the first time she had ever talked to her mother on a phone. It was impersonal and distant. Evelyn didn’t like not being able to see her face. She thought hearing her voice would help her awkward mood, but it didn’t. She felt . . . lost.

  Everything was unfamiliar. Even Lucian wasn’t being his usual self. He was doing dishes for Christ’s sake! She excused herself to go take a shower, thinking that might help.

  After her shower she selected a burgundy sweater dress paired with black tights and spiked black leather boots that went to the knee. She wore her hair down, not because Lucian preferred it that way, but because it acted as a shield. With every minute that ticked by she grew more and more nervous.

  Lucian entered the room and eyed her curiously. She had been sitting on the edge of the bed staring at nothing for the past twenty minutes.

  “Evelyn?”

  “Hey.”

  “Baby, what’s wrong?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. The best way I can explain it is . . . I feel . . . homesick. I know that doesn’t make sense because I don’t have a home, but that’s the best way I can put it.”

  He sat next to her and pulled her close. “You have a home, Evelyn, with me. I’m sorry if I went a little overboard on your gifts. I just wanted to spoil you.”

  “It’s so much, Lucian. I don’t even know how to use half that stuff. And the books . . .”

  “I’m sorry about the books. I should’ve gotten you something more girlie. I just figured since I liked them . . .”

  Without warning, a sob hiccupped from her chest.

  “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Evelyn, please don’t cry. I’ll take them all back.”

  Shutting her eyes, she pressed her lips together and shook her head. Forcing a deep breath she stood and went to the top drawer of the dresser. She removed the notes from the morning and the one that had been attached to the rose. Evelyn handed them to him and he frowned.

  “Read them,” she asked.

  “What?”

  “Read them. Please.”

  For the first time ever, Lucian looked unsure. He glanced at the first note. His voice was a thin thread of what it normally sounded like. “I love the sound of my name when it crosses your lips. It is the sweetest whisper my ears have ever been sung.”

  He looked at her and she pointed to the next one.

  He read, “On the days that I cannot hear your heart beating beside mine, you’re too far away and I want nothing more than to go to you and hold you close, and never let go.” He began breathing heavily. He frowned at the notes and his fingers tightened over the delicate parchment.

  “And this one,” she whispered.

  He read this one a little faster. “I feel as though you sip from my soul every time our lips touch and when you look at me as I’m deep inside of you, you breathe life back into me, and I know, before you, everything was only an imitation of what living truly is.”

  Her heart pinched and her stomach rolled with too much emotion to keep inside.

  Lucian suddenly stood. “What is this, Evelyn?” he barked. “I’m not a writer. If you don’t like them, throw them away.” His fists closed over the papers, crumpling them into a ball.

  “No!” She jumped to her feet and grabbed his fist. As she tried to unknot his fingers he scoffed and let them all flutter to the floor. She chased them down to the carpet and quickly uncurled them.

  Lucian threw his fingers into his hair and turned. “I don’t get you, Evelyn. I thought today would be perfect, but every time I look at you you’re more upset than you were the moment before. I can’t win for losing!”

  He stormed toward the door and she panicked. “Lucian, wait!”

  He stopped but didn’t turn around. His shoulders heaved slowly with irritation. She hadn’t meant to embarrass him.

  Her voice was watery and breathless. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m so emotional today. I’m just overwhelmed. You have to understand, before today, Christmas just meant ham instead of stew at the shelter and hot chocolate for dessert instead of going without. I’ve never been given gifts before I met you and your overindulgence is at times more than I can comprehend.”

  “I’ll send them all back.” He was hurt and that was her fault.

  “No, Lucian, you don’t have to do that. I just want you to know, all of those gifts down there don’t mean a fraction of what this means to me,” she said holding up his love notes.

  His eyes narrowed. “Then why did you make me read them like that? You made me feel like—”

  “Because I can’t read them.”

  “What?”

  She stared up at him, so tall and powerful. His image shimmered behind the wall of tears covering her eyes. “I don’t know how to read.”

  It took a minute for her words to sink in. His expression softened and he blinked at her.

  “Evelyn . . .” he rasped. “I . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want you to think I was stupid.”

  He lowered himself to the floor. “I could never think that.” His hands gently turned her face and kissed her tear-streaked cheeks.

  A watery laugh bubbled from her. “Bet you believe me now when I tell you I wasn’t snooping at your desk the day we met.”

  He didn’t laugh. His strong arms wrapped around her and he rocked her. His warm lips pressed into her temple as he whispered over her skin, “I’ll teach you to read, Evelyn. I’ll teach you anything you’re interested in learning. I never want you to feel like you’re less because you can’t do something. Anything you want to learn, I’ll teach you. Even without those skills, you’re so much more than anyone else in this world.”

  He held her for a long while, there on the floor. She asked him to read the rest of the notes and he did. By the time they were heading back downstairs, hand in hand, to welcome his sisters, she was sure of four things. One, she’d finally learn to read. Two, Lucian loved her very much. Three, she lov
ed him more. And four, this would end very badly and her heart would likely never beat right again.

  Chapter 41

  On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me . . .

  Lucian’s sisters hung around for two days. Isadora stayed at the house, but Antoinette returned home each night after Lucian declared that there was no way she and her boyfriend Peter were sharing a bed under his roof. On the last day they were there, Jamie showed up. Jamie wasn’t his jovial self around Lucian’s younger sister. He studied her with an intensity much like the way Lucian watched her. Evelyn observed them with interest. So did Peter, yet he seemed a little insecure about what everyone saw between Toni and Jamie.

  Isadora was even more beautiful in person than she was in the picture Evelyn had seen. While Antoinette was a fiery ball of energy in a package of curves and dimples, Isadora was a willowy, elfin creature with skin as silky as rose petals and eyes as dark as sin. She definitely seemed the matriarch of the siblings, and it was interesting watching her tease Lucian the way no one else could.

  Although they were probably one of the wealthiest families in the world, an outsider would never be able to tell by their easy manner. Evelyn’s nervousness disappeared the moment Isadora grasped her in a tight hug and welcomed her to the family. She failed to inform her that her greeting was a bit presumptuous and found herself falling into a cozy little world of make-believe.

  The day after Christmas, she visited Pearl. Her mother still looked quite ill. She was lethargic and quiet and barely sat up when Evelyn knocked on her door. Evelyn gave her one of the sweaters Lucian had given her for Christmas, but Pearl didn’t acknowledge the gift. Her blinking eyes stared into nothingness as Evelyn made small talk.

  The hollow welcome left her cold and heartsick. When they returned to the estate, greeted again by Lucian’s sister, it was a welcome distraction. Perhaps with time, her mother would forgive her.

  Evelyn was sad to see Lucian’s family go, but also anxious to have Lucian back all to herself. As he closed the door behind them, he smiled at her. They had made love tenderly and quietly over the past few days. It was nice, but she missed the intensity they usually shared.

  He faced her after locking the door behind his sisters. “I want you to go upstairs, remove your clothing and wait for me on the bed.” She shivered and quickly moved to do as he instructed.

  Lucian entered the room a short time later, carrying three small gifts in his hand. She inwardly groaned at the thought of more presents.

  “Open this,” he instructed as he placed a gift on the bed.

  She did. “It’s a blindfold.”

  “Correct. Now open the other two.”

  The second package jangled when she shook it. After unwrapping the paper, she lifted the lid and found two leather cuffs attached by a long chain. She swallowed.

  “And the last,” he instructed.

  She peeled back the paper carefully and found a bottle of liquid. She looked at the label. “What is it?”

  “Oil.”

  Evelyn knew what the oil was for immediately and her heart quickened as blood rushed to her cheeks.

  “You have several more gifts like this downstairs,” he said. “Each night I’ll give you three to open and you’ll choose which one we’ll use. Choose now, Evelyn.”

  Her fingers traced over the soft leather of the cuffs and the soft satin of the eye mask. She picked up the oil and looked at him.

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded.

  “Tell me your safe word.”

  “Checkmate.”

  “Lie back.”

  Her legs uncurled from beneath her and the soft bedding pressed into her back. She heard the whisper of Lucian removing his clothes.

  “Spread your legs for me,” he said.

  He still remained off the bed. She looked up at the chandelier hanging above her and drew her knees apart.

  “Open yourself so I can see you.”

  Her fingers reached for her sex and she opened her slit. She was already wet.

  “Whose pussy is that, Evelyn?”

  “Yours.”

  “Very good, Evelyn. And whose tits?”

  “Yours, Lucian.”

  “And after tonight, who will own your ass?”

  “You will, Lucian.”

  He grumbled his approval. “Make yourself come. You have two minutes.”

  Her fingers closed over her clit and she rubbed in fast, tight circles. Her body tightened. She replayed Lucian’s words in her head, his commanding tone echoing in her mind and her sex clenched. The orgasm was quick and slight, nothing like the releases she experienced at Lucian’s hand. She understood its purpose, however. The sharp release eased some of her tension and helped her relax.

  “Very good.”

  The bed dipped, and Lucian’s mouth latched onto her nipple. He sucked hard and released the tip with a pop. He repeated the action on her other breast, then climbed over her torso, straddling her. He was naked. His weight sunk into her and she felt deliciously restrained.

  “Open.”

  Her lips parted and he leaned forward. His cock pressed into her mouth hard and fast. He took her wrists and held them above her hands. Her back arched slightly, lifting her breasts. He thrust several times in quick succession, and then withdrew and scooted back.

  His warm palms plumped her breasts and he fit himself in the tight crease he created. He fucked her there with his wet cock as his thumbs circled over her nipples. Other than the skid of his fingers and her building anticipation, there was little else that stimulated her out of what he was doing. This was purely for him and she understood that.

  Lucian could be achingly tender, but every once in a while he needed to assert his authority and show her that he could take his pleasure as he saw fit. Her pleasure was his to give and there was no promise as to how often she should receive it. Although what he was doing was intentionally selfish, it excited her.

  It made her wet to watch him take from her with such confidence as though it were his due. She probably wouldn’t feel that way if he wasn’t such a generous lover for the majority of the time, but he was, and she found great pleasure in getting him off. The selfless surrender he demanded of her made her feel powerful and strong in her own way.

  Heat seeped from the dark head of his cock onto her chest. His fingers stopped teasing her nipples and simply held her as he fucked faster. He grunted, and hot come shot between her breasts and trickled over her shoulder.

  He slid down her body and wedged her knees apart, surprising her by driving himself deep into her pussy. “Rub my come into your breasts.”

  Her fingers slid through the warm fluid and massaged it into her skin.

  “You’re very wet, Evelyn. It turns you on when I take my pleasure from you, doesn’t it.”

  “Yes, Lucian.”

  He ground himself into her. “Pinch your nipples and don’t let go until I give you permission.”

  She did as he asked and he drove into her hard. His fingers worked over her clit and he pumped in and out of her sex.

  Her breasts stung and grew surprisingly numb. She didn’t let go as he slammed into her. Her orgasm built, but she fought back her release, not wanting to take it without his permission. Suddenly he pinched her clit.

  Evelyn screamed and he said, “Now, Evelyn. Release them now and come.”

  Blood rushed to the tips of her breasts, a delicious mixture of sharp, biting pain that was quickly replaced with fiery pleasure. The same sensation filled her clit as he relinquished his hold and she came hard, arching off the bed and calling out his name.

  She wasn’t given much time to recover. Lucian climbed back up her body and tapped her mouth. She opened her eyes and realized it was his cock that had bumped her.

  “Taste yourself on me and suck me until I’m fully ha
rd again.”

  She took him into her mouth and licked over his solid flesh. He wasn’t flaccid, but he also wasn’t as erect as he usually was. It didn’t take long to get him there. She tasted her arousal mixed with his and found herself growing wet for him again.

  His hand sifted in her hair and he quickly directed her mouth over his cock. The feeling of his flesh twitching and growing over her tongue as he filled her mouth was an empowering and heady thing. He released her hair and she dropped back to the pillows. He climbed off of her.

  “It’s time.”

  Lucian set pillows in the center of the bed and guided her on top of them. The soft downy fabric cushioned her abdomen, and her ass remained high in the air. Lucian kneeled between her legs and crawled close to her backside. Heat from his body warmed her thighs.

  His hand slid up her spine, and she lowered her shoulders when he applied pressure there. “Rest your cheek on your arms, Evelyn,” he said softly.

  The snap of a cap sounded like the crack of a gun at the start of a race, drawing her shoulders tight, flooding her veins with adrenaline, and then he was separating her cheeks and massaging the cool oil around and into her hole. It heated under his touch.

  Her clit swelled as he nudged the tight knot of her ass with his finger. She relaxed, having grown used to his fingers penetrating her there. When he sunk his digit deep, she sighed at the expected slow burn as it bloomed into something dark and pleasant.

  There was a difference with the oil from when he used her own moisture like he usually did. This was easier, smoother. It didn’t absorb as quickly as her own lubrication. He worked another finger in and she breathed out through her teeth against the intrusion, all those nerve endings jangling and protesting. Her flesh grew hot and she worked hard to remain still as he fingered her ass.

  Pressure expanded from within as his fingers opened and closed, and she realized he was stretching her. As he continued she crept very close to coming, but was missing that one tiny shove that would send her over the edge.

  His fingers withdrew and with the sensation of new hollowness came a sense of dark anticipation. Heat from the head of his broad cock pressed on her hole. He was too big, several times larger than his fingers. He slicked his flesh and hers with more oil and her outer skin burned as he pressed in.