MINE 1

by Kristina Weaver

  I mean, surely he can’t expect me to just fall into bed with him after only two days of re-acquaintance?

  “Ashley, get your little behind out here, love! You’re only scaring yourself needlessly,” I hear through the closed and bolted door.

  Uh oh, looks like he really does expect me to just get back up and ride. I giggle at my own wording and take a deep breath, looking down at the pale pink silk nightie.

  The thing is tiny, reaching just below my ass cheeks, and is so sheer I can’t call it a covering—more of a tease than anything else. My nipples and pubic hair are totally on show in the thing, and if I look back I bet my ass crack is showing too.

  When I’ve dawdled about as long as I can, I unlock the door and peek out, keeping my body behind the door as fresh embarrassment flames through me.

  “This thing is goddamned indecent,” I squeak, keeping my eyes squarely on his face and not the tented sheet that covers his reclining form.

  “Come out of there and let me see.”

  “No.”

  “Ashley.”

  The tone has me inching out from behind my haven, and I walk forward like a death row inmate doing the green mile, all reluctance and ignorant terror.

  So what. Geez, none of you have seen what Lucian has packing under that sheet, and just from the size of that thing I’m doubting I’ll be alive tomorrow.

  “Stop glaring at me! You’re making me more nervous!”

  “Then stop slinking around like I’m going to kill you.”

  “Aren’t you? Jesus, that thing is huge!”

  His laughter makes my insides tremor, and I find myself giggling along, relaxing under the playful wink he throws my way. Seriously, the guy is all hard—pun intended—but somewhere inside there the boy I’d loved still lurks around. I just know it.

  My amusement dies when he loses the sheet and rises, prowling my way like a big, predatory cat. Everything about him is perfection, from the rippling muscles under his skin down to the tattoos painted along the left side of his body from hip to somewhere over his shoulder.

  I can’t make it out with the way he’s moving, but from where I’m standing that thing must have been inked in by a very talented artist.

  “Come here, love. Give us a kiss,” he growls, pulling me in with a hand at my nape and one at my hip.

  The position is hard to maintain with the way I have to lean up on the very tips of my toes, even though he’s bent over at the waist, but maintain it I do, just for the pleasure of feeling his soft lips ghost over mine, followed by his tongue.

  He licks at me lazily, taking his time to fully savor my mouth before pinching my jaw open between his thumb and forefinger to gain deeper access.

  This is no branding or lazy tasting now. What I feel when he shoves deep is a simulation of what he wants to do when our bodies join. He goes in deep and hard, slow and soft, taking every inch before drawing back to press a smooching kiss to my lips.

  By this time I’m almost drunk with lust and pulsing between my legs, wet and aching and rubbing my thighs together for a little relief. How one kiss can have that much power is frightening, but he gives me no time to pull back, just sweeps me up and gently lowers me to the bed.

  “I’ve waited so long for this, love.”

  Not really, I think, with a derisive snort that makes him quirk his brow. We’ve been together two days.

  “I’m going to undress you now. Shh, relax, love, just let me see you,” he murmurs, gliding his hands beneath the silk and pushing it up so slowly I’m panting by the time he’s done.

  No woman is capable of total unselfconsciousness, not when it’s the first time revealing herself to a man, but I manage to lock my quivering muscles and lie still, letting him undress me before he sits back on his haunches to look down at me.

  His face goes hard and intense when he spreads me, kneeling between my legs and looking down at my most intimate place. I squirm beneath his regard, turned on beyond measure when he smiles slowly and flicks a glance up at me from beneath his lashes.

  “Do not move, no matter what I do. Understand? I need to get you ready, love.”

  I nod, expecting more kisses and maybe some nipple action. He smiles again and directs me to close my eyes, waiting till I obey before making his move.

  What he does shocks and thrills me at once, and I bow up, pushing closer when his heated mouth settles directly over my sex and starts licking and sucking.

  He works me over till I’m writhing and pulling at his hair, so lost and desperate that I’m begging, pleading with him to do something, anything to help me.

  And still he keeps going, not stopping till I’ve peaked twice more before lunging up my body and kissing me fiercely.

  I’m so lost I hardly notice when he lines his steely length with my opening and starts pressing in. The pleasure of it is utterly entrancing and sweet, till he meets the barrier signaling my innocence high inside.

  I tense with the twinge of pain, locking up and scooting back to escape the pressure.

  “Shh, love, relax. It’ll be over soon,” he whispers, stealing my mouth with a deep, drugging kiss.

  When I relax and melt into the moment he makes his move, thrusting hard and filling me in one stroke. I cry out, but he doesn’t stop, withdrawing and thrusting back in till I feel the pain recede beneath a rip tide of renewed pleasure.

  Soon I’m pushing back, seeking that ultimate pleasure as much as he is, using my instinct to move with him.

  “Oh, love, that feels…”

  He swivels his hips, hitting me right where I need him to and sending me crashing into climax, my body going wild beneath his. With a grunt and three more desperate thrusts he joins me, filling me with heat and a sense of euphoria unlike any I’ve ever known.

  “Oh God, oh God, oh God!”

  “That’s it, love, come for me!” he yells, pumping into me to prolong my flight.

  It’s only as I’m coming down from that incredible high, sprawled boneless over his heaving chest, that I feel the fear I’ve been keeping at bay since he’d kissed me so possessively this morning.

  I couldn’t say why that kiss had dogged me all day, not being as innocent and naïve as I was, but I know the reason now, and it scares the bejesus outta me.

  It’s quite possible that I could fall for him again. In fact, I don’t doubt that it’s more than likely.

  I just don’t know how to stop it.

  Chapter Ten

  “Why so quiet, love?”

  It’s early morning, around maybe three, I’d guess, and I’m spent and befuddled from hours of nonstop loving. Lucian is…a sexual fiend, is the only apt description.

  After our initial round of bliss he’d lowered me into a steaming bath filled with salts and washed me tenderly, paying particular care to my sore thighs and between.

  He’d soothed my ragged nerves and cared for me so gently I’d been hard pressed not to blurt out my emotional turmoil or run screaming for dear life.

  Love, the whole concept of needing another person…that badly scares me. I know what it is to love and lose. I’ve felt it too many times not to. Too many times to ‘go gently into that dark night’.

  Now, as we lie wrapped around each other, just enjoying the cool breeze coming through the open windows, I feel vulnerable and a little pissed that he can get to me so easily.

  I want to be detached and aloof. No, apart from whatever it is he’s trying to do, but dammit, my stupid feelings have always been so easily roused. I’m scared, annoyed, and uncertain.

  If Mom were alive she would tell me to be honest and ‘use my words’, thanks to her obsession with Dr Phil, so instead of feigning sleep or diverting his nosiness I push myself up and meet his eyes, staring the dragon head on.

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, Lucian Jasper, but if you make me fall in love with you and break my heart, I think I might risk prison just for the pleasure of murdering your hot ass.”

  There, tough and honest all at once.<
br />
  Dr Phil would probably tell me to use my words more constructively or some such shit, but I’m no wall flower, and I refuse to beat around the bush.

  I grew up in Chicago public school; I can’t hold my tongue for shit, so the good doctors of head scoping can kiss it!

  I feel him jerk beneath me before a huge grin splits his face. Arrogant ass.

  “Are you saying you love me, my sweet?” he purrs in that sexy accent, pulling me further up his chest to get my face into his.

  “No,” I mutter, scowling at his smug face. “What I’m saying is that if you keep up with your sweetness and this whole sex machine thing you’ve got going, especially if you keep being so nice to my brother, there’s a good chance I could be dumb enough to fall for you. So don’t do it if you’re intending to hurt me.”

  His chest shakes the whole time he’s kissing my smart mouth—his words, not mine—and I finally relent and soften, kissing him back with a sweetness I can’t hold back.

  This melding is softer than the wild passion before, his wordless promise to take care with my feelings and mine to tell him that I’m a soft ass sap with less brains than a grapefruit.

  Stupid sex. Mom was right; it does turn your mind to oatmeal.

  ***

  Luc

  I lay awake till dawn, my lovely little baby sound asleep where she’s sprawled on my chest, leaving a wet pool of drool where her mouth hangs open over my left nipple.

  I find I don’t mind, not in the least when she shifts, rubbing her bountiful breasts over my ribs, and wiggles her sex against my hip.

  What she’d said has given me hope that my plans for total ownership over her will work beyond my wildest imaginings. If that were all, though, I would even now be sleeping, because yes, after that sex marathon I am beyond exhausted.

  The problem is, though, that I’m feeling…I can’t say what this emotion is, but its bloody well got me unsettled and tied up in knots. I want Ashley to love me, have been working my plans in that direction since the day I decided to find her again.

  So then why does the thought of what I have planned leave me feeling so filled with dread? I know myself; once I’ve plotted a course and set things into action, I will stay it till the very end.

  For the first time since I ruined my father and his bitch wife I feel the need to stop and reassess things, something I haven’t done since—

  No, I won’t think of that dreadful day, lest I lose the quiet joy I feel now that I’ve got her securely trapped and in my bed. Doubt still niggles at my mind, though. What if she leaves me when—

  “Luc?”

  I tense and look down into her sleepy eyes and realize she’s woken from the involuntary tensing of my arms. I’m squeezing the poor girl to death.

  “Sorry, love, I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”

  She smiles and then reddens when she notices the wet patch on my chest, wiping apologetically at my skin. The graze of her fingers over my nipple perks us both up, and I roll her to her back with a laugh, fitting our bottom halves together with a smirk.

  “You still tired?”

  I don’t give her a chance to answer but seal our mouths and push deep, feeling her heat wrap around me. The connection calms me immediately, chasing the shadows away and leaving me feeling like I’ve gained a lot more than I’ve bargained for.

  “Oh, that feels so good,” she whispers, canting her hips to pull me closer and deeper into her warmth. “How can it feel so good?”

  “It’s meant to be.”

  I say it for effect, because I know that women eat that bollocks up for breakfast and that it will bring her so much closer to that point of no return.

  I just hope the love I have every intention of nurturing in her will be enough to save me if she ever discovers my true intentions.

  Chapter Eleven

  Being without friends sucks ass. I’d never given much thought to my lone wolf status before, thanks to my hectic life and the fact that I had no time to nurture a friendship with another woman—or anybody, for that matter.

  Now I hate it because I have no one to talk to about what’s happening between me and Lucian. I need a freaking sounding board, a vagina monologue confidante to tell me what the heck is happening to my previously reasonable mind.

  As it is I’ve been skipping around and singing—singing, for God’s sake—since we made love. It’s been over a week, and I still feel like I’m walking on marshmallows or something.

  Just tragic.

  “I need your help with homework, Ash,” Ben whines from the kitchen table, bringing me back from my misery.

  I stir the homemade spaghetti sauce before going over to him and looking down at his reading card.

  “What’s the problem?”

  “Mrs Baxter said I have to read this book, but the words are too hard.”

  “Difficult,” Lucian corrects, breezing into the kitchen and planting a kiss on my lips before turning back to ‘his son’, as he now calls Ben.

  I go back to the stove and check the pasta as they put their heads together and get to it. It makes me all tingly knowing that he takes such an interest in Ben.

  Since we’d gotten into a rhythm with each other I’d started cooking dinner and taken over weekends, much to Maria’s chagrin, and I love knowing that Lucian likes my efforts as far as the home and hearth thing goes.

  Everything’s still up in the air as far as our relationship is concerned, but for once I’m not going all psycho control freak and demanding answers. I‘m just enjoying this time of happiness and freedom.

  “We’re just about done, love. You can start serving,” Lucian calls ten minutes later, sending Ben to put his books away.

  As soon as he’s gone I find myself enfolded from behind as his wicked mouth glosses wet kisses over my neck before stopping at my ear.

  “I want you.”

  Just like that I heat up and melt into him, wanting nothing more than the chance to take him upstairs and do all the things I read in that steamy romance novel Maria gave me.

  “Hey, Luc, can I swim after dinner?” Ben yells, breaking us apart as he comes bounding back into the room. “Ash wouldn’t let me ‘cause I had so much homework to do,” he gripes petulantly, making me feel terrible for denying him.

  “Tone,” Lucian warns, levelling a hard stare his way.

  It always amazes me how he can get Ben into line so easily, whereas I can’t say one thing right without the kid throwing a sulk. A few weeks ago I would have been subjected to God alone knows what sulky punishment if I chastised him.

  Not Lucian though. Nope, all it takes is one word or stern look and Ben snaps back into line like a little soldier.

  “Sorry, Ash.”

  “Good, now sit down for dinner, and then we’ll see about swimming later.”

  He lauds my cooking all through dinner, and I practically glow with the praise, feeling like a million bucks when Ben perks up and seconds the approval.

  “I’ll clean up while you guys swim.”

  “No. Leave it for Maria. I want you with us.”

  “Uh…”

  My words stall and I grimace, closing my eyes tightly as he takes the dishes from my nerveless fingers and pulls me along behind him, up the stairs and into our bedroom.

  “I purchased a wide selection of swimwear for you. It’s in the bottom left drawer of your closet.”

  I nod dumbly and go to change, selecting a modest black tank style bikini with boy short bottoms. My uneasiness and embarrassment multiply when we go downstairs and make our way outside, watching as Ben flings himself into the air and crashes into the pool with a shriek of joy.

  Lucian follows suit, splashing water all over the place and horsing around like a kid before he looks back and sees me tentatively dipping a toe into the water.

  “Come on, love, the water’s perfect.”

  I don’t doubt that, seeing as the pool is one of those expensive heated things. That’s not the problem. The big issue is t
he fact that I can’t swim and have been terrified of drowning since the water I’d fallen through— thin ice—at the cabin we used to go to for short vacations.

  My mom and Wesley had saved me from an untimely watery death and then assured me that water is not the big evil monster I thought it was. It hadn’t worked, though, so I’d refused to even try learning, no matter how much they’d bribed me.

  “Uh, I think I’ll just sit here on the edge.”

  “What? No, don’t be foolish, love.”

  “Aw leave her alone. She’s too chicken on account of she can’t swim.”

  “What?”

  “Okay, no need to look at me like I’ve just landed all the way from Mars,” I gripe, throwing Ben a withering glare. “Thanks a lot, hotshot. You couldn’t keep that to yourself?”

  “Naw. I told ya, ya need to try,” he says, throwing himself back and into the deep end.

  I’m almost brittle, I’m so tense. Just having my feet submerged—baths are not my thing unless I’m sick or freezing, and then even then, I won’t do it without a buddy.

  “Seriously? You can’t swim?” he asks, stroking over to where I’m sitting.

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “I almost drowned when I was like, seven, so when Wesley finally got around to wanting to teach me I was not in the mood for bullshit,” I huff, flicking at a non-existent mosquito.

  This is seriously embarrassing and not what I had planned for tonight. Oh, why did Ben have to go on about this crap on the night I wanted to test those things from that book?

  Just my luck.

  “Makes sense, love, but you have nothing to fear, not when you’re with me. Now come on over here and let me teach you.”

  “Um. No.”

  He rolls his eyes at my silence and grabs hold of my arm, yanking me in and onto his chest before I can scramble loose and run away. I freeze when the water hits my body and envelops me from the chest down, its silky coolness flowing over my skin in a caress.