Wyatt (Lane Brothers #1)

by Kristina Weaver

  I know, instinctively, that the moment I take that hand I am well and truly owned. If I accept him and everything he’s forcing on me, I am as good as signing myself over to him, lock, stock, and barrel.

  Looking over the old kitchen where Mom used to cook and tell me stories about her and Wesley’s romance and younger days, I take it all in one last time and stand, placing my hand in his larger one.

  His breath rushes out quietly before he grips me and pulls me into his side, leading me out the door, away from the only life I’ve known.

  ***

  “Good morning, love.”

  The deep, husky rumble makes me tense, and my eyes fly open when I feel the satiny soft glide of heated skin along my back, coupled with something seriously huge huddled between my ass cheeks.

  My mind freezes when I feel warm lips coast along my nape, caressing my skin before his mouth opens and sucks me in. The heat and carnality of it sends shooting tingles to my sex, and I groan, pushing back a beat into his hard shaft.

  “Hmm, that’s it, love.”

  “What are you doing, Lucian?”

  “What does it feel like?” he purrs, stroking his left hand over my navel before dipping the tips into my panties to tickle at the top of my mound.

  I can’t answer because, honestly, he doesn’t give me time before that hand descends and dips lower and pauses right over my now throbbing clit. My hips move of their own volition, and soon I’m grinding myself into his hand and breathing so hard I’m lightheaded.

  No man has ever touched me before, not like this, and I am as terrified as I am aroused.

  “That’s it, love. Take what you need,” he purrs again, moving his hand in tighter to cup my whole sex. Those fingers slice through me and dip in as his palm meets my nub and presses down in maddeningly slow circles.

  “Oh, oh, Lucian. What…”

  I’ve had and orgasm before—of course I have, I’m human—but what happens when he pushes a finger deep and hits the heel of his palm into me is…so insane.

  I explode from the inside out, thrashing and screaming as my sex contracts in brutally blissful waves of pleasure so intense I can’t breathe afterward.

  I’m boneless and whacked out from the pleasure when he rolls me over and takes my mouth in his hand, opening me up.

  “Don’t move your tongue or lips,” he growls before opening his mouth and clamping it over mine.

  This… I can’t even begin to explain what it feels like to be totally at his mercy as he thrusts his tongue into my mouth and licks at me as if he’s dying for the taste.

  It’s a little uncomfortable, because, yeah, I’m that girl who thinks about her morning breath, but he doesn’t give me the luxury of protesting, just keeps spearing his tongue into my immobile mouth for the longest time, moaning deep in his throat before pulling back to look down at me.

  “You’re mine.”

  I don’t respond to that statement, because I honestly don’t know what to say to that. I mean, we’ve just had…I can’t say ‘sex’, but our first sexual encounter, and he’s going all weird and dominant on me, as if the past has no meaning and my feelings are not even on the table.

  “Lucian.”

  “No. Sorry, love, but its best you hear this now before you get any ideas about where this is going. You and that boy belong to me, now and always.”

  “But—”

  “No ‘but’. Now get up and get dressed; we have a therapist to see and a school to scope out. Oh, and by the way, I left a gift in your drawer.”

  Just like that he’s up and out of bed, his smarmy ass whistling the whole time he’s in the shower and getting dressed. It takes me a little longer to move because what I find in the drawer, well, it’s hard not to cry when a man does something that sweet.

  And now how the heck am I supposed to hold onto my grudge when all I want to do is squeal like a pig and attack him with kisses?

  He’d gone back to my house—now I know where he’d gone after dropping us off at what I can only describe as a freaking mansion—and dug my mom’s ruined little figurine out of the trash.

  And glued it all together so neatly that, while I can see every crack and missing chip, it’s all in one piece. I can’t tell you how he knew that it’s so important to me, but he did, and he’d chosen to get his blue-blooded mitts dirty and dig around in garbage for me.

  Crapsickles, that stuff makes me putty in his hands, and from the knowing glint in the asshole’s eye, I think he knows it.

  “Shower and dress. We have things to do. Oh, and I put your clothes out. Wear them.”

  ***

  Luc

  She stomps into the kitchen twenty minutes later wearing the light pink sundress and low-heeled sandals I’d chosen, her cute little mouth so tight I swear she could crack nuts on it.

  Mine, to be specific.

  Like I care. All Ashley needs to know right now is that she belongs to me and that I am her…I don’t want to use the word ‘master’ because I am not into that stuff, but I am most definitely in charge, especially after this morning, when she’d let me into her body.

  If I feel this way after getting her off with my hand I shudder to think what the poor woman will have in store for her when I finally manage to take her innocence.

  “I don’t like dresses,” she grumbles after planting a quick, stealthy kiss on her brother’s head and taking a seat beside me.

  When the little scamp jumps down and launches himself at her for a hug and a kiss—I’ll have to nix him going for her mouth, because brother or not, that belongs to me—and she smiles so brightly it hurts my eyes, I decide the kid’s just earned himself a Gameboy.

  Funny, but seeing Ashley so happy makes something deep inside me clench and release, something that feels suspiciously like my stone cold heart.

  “Uh, hi, honey. You seem…good this morning.”

  I tune out as he starts babbling about the pool and the yard. Seriously, what do I care about that stuff, as long as they’re both happy to be here? An hour later every happy thought I’d been resentfully carrying around comes crashing down around my ears.

  “What the fuck are you saying?”

  Brody winces at the leashed rage in my tone and sighs heavily before meeting my eyes once again.

  “They had some sort of trust fund thing that their late grandmother left to them. Since she hadn’t reached her majority yet, the handling of it was left to her old man.”

  Which means that scheming bastard Wesley Munro had not only abandoned my girl and his son, but the son of a bitch had added insult to injury by stealing their inheritance.

  Swear to God, when I get my hands on that animal I can’t be held responsible for my actions. How does a man go from being a decent father to stealing the food out of his children’s mouths and then skipping off to start a new family?

  I want to throttle him every time I think about my girl working herself into an early grave just to keep them fed.

  “Calm down, Luc. This is just another example of the human filth we’ve dealt with before. I’ll get Garret on this so we know how much of their money the idiot has already spent, and then we can go from there. There’s a woman and kid involved here, so ruining him isn’t necessarily the best route to take.”

  No, he’s right, but that doesn’t do anything to lessen the anger I feel right now. If not for that…person, my girl would have been doing just fine. She sure as balls wouldn’t have had to spend the last years dealing with shit and an angry baby boy who can’t understand why his father didn’t love him enough to stay.

  “Get me everything you have on him. I’ll look it through and make my decision from there.”

  “You got it, boss.”

  When he leaves I sit back, not bothered with the reports heaped on my desk, and look out of the window, laying out my plans in such a way that by the time Ashley learns of this, I’ll own her completely enough that she won’t be harmed by the truth.

  Chapter Eight

  Th
is day has been one of the best and worst of my life. Best because not only do I have this morning’s episode to keep me alert and on tenterhooks—God, just the memory gets me worked up—but Ben’s been a dream, the private all boys academy Lucian has gotten him into is absolutely fantastic, and the teachers are wonderful.

  Now I just have to focus on doing everything the shrink talked to us about.

  I say worst too because, while I’m all better after a dose of some vile concoction Lucian forced down my throat, I feel…out of place.

  I’m not one of those woman who thinks that a poor girl can’t be with a rich guy, like she’s worth less or some shit, but I can say I am totally out of my element.

  I have no job, and for a girl like me, who’s used to being run ragged, it’s hard to sit around all day without going crazy. Plus I’m scared blind that I’ll break something in this mausoleum, and from the looks of things it could cost more than all of my organs would bring on the black market.

  “Love, what are you doing exactly?”

  I squeak and almost bite my tongue off when that husky drawl reaches me. Trying, in vain, I hit the off button on the tablet he’s given me and stash the thing behind my back—classic guilty move—hoping like hell he didn’t see or hear what I’ve been watching.

  Oh great, he’s home earlier than expected, and I still haven’t psyched myself up for whatever he has in store for me.

  Don’t get me wrong: after this morning’s sample, I am so on board with sex with Lucian, but I have no idea what to do, and being me, I will definitely do something super embarrassing.

  I need some time to think about things, and maybe, you know, Google some stuff. That’s what I’ve been doing while sitting on the stairs avoiding any breakage opportunities: trying to find the courage to surf the net for porn.

  I’d decided to do that not less than ten minutes ago, and wouldn’t you know it, the man would catch me watching Z grade porn. Shit.

  “Uh…research?”

  That sexy grin of his splits his face, and I see the sparkle in his eye as he leans down, lips puckered as if offering me a kiss. Sap that I am, I lean in and close my eyes, wanting his lips on mine in a repeat of this morning’s claiming.

  I should know by now, really I should.

  He snatches the tablet from behind my back and hits the on button, gaping at me when the sounds of sex and slapping skin echo through the silence.

  I don’t quite know what to do with myself as his eyes stretch before winging back to me with such a flabbergasted stare I blush harder and bite my lip guiltily.

  “You’re watching porn?”

  Hell.

  “Uh…I can explain.”

  The smarmy smirk is back as he shuts down the bloodcurdling screams coming from the tablet and looks at me, sucking on his lip—in an attempt not to laugh, I’m sure.

  “Really? Please do.”

  “I-I was…” Crap. “I was trying to figure out how sex works,” I hiss, rising shakily only to stand and fidget beneath his amused stare.

  Bastard. Why couldn’t he just have left it alone?

  “You don’t need to know a thing besides what I’m going to teach you,” he finally says, eyeing me up and down.

  The heat in his eyes makes me blush again, this time with lust, as he focuses his gaze between my legs and sucks at his lip before meeting my eyes.

  “You don’t need to look at this shite. All you have to do is ask, and I’ll tell you,” he drawls, coming so close his breath caresses my wet lips. “So ask.”

  What!

  “Uh, that’s okay. I’ll, uh…”

  “No. You’re obviously nervous about this,” he insists, bringing my mortified face back to his. “Ask.”

  “I can’t! For goodness’ sake, it’s not something you just…just talk about,” I splutter. “I really don’t know you well enough for that.”

  Supercilious, since I’ve made up my mind to sleep with the guy and see where this takes us.

  My words make him laugh, a great, booming sound that rattles my bones and holds me captive. I’ve heard that sound once before, so long ago I’d convinced myself it doesn’t really exist. But it does I see now, and I want that sound again almost more than my next breath.

  “You’re missish, love, truly. I hadn’t thought to find the only prudish female populating this side of the bloody pond,” he chuckles, bussing my lips through his humor.

  I am so not missish—is that even a word? —I’m just not a sex maniac like most girls I know. I prefer for things to be…oh, who am I kidding? I’m a damn virgin with not a damn clue as to what to do with a man like Lucian.

  Where I’m soft, this man is hard as granite, and a ruthless dictator to boot. He’s world-wise and used to getting everything his heart desires, the reason that I’d convinced myself that surfing the porn-filled net was my only option, lest I disappoint him in some way.

  I don’t know why, but for some ungodly reason the thought of being green and useless in the sack, of being less than what he expects, ties me up in knots.

  Stupid, but who am I to know why my brain thinks this way? All I know is that soon, tonight, if that look in his eye is anything to go by, I’m going to be under him.

  I know I won’t wake up pure tomorrow morning, and while that thrills me, I’m also terrified.

  “Stop laughing at me, numbskull. I hate being laughed at,” I grit out between my teeth.

  He chuckles again and takes my hand, leading me to the kitchen, where Maria has left a light lunch—late, since I told her I’m busy.

  “Come eat, love. We’ll discuss this tonight after the lad’s in bed. Better yet, I think I’ll show you.”

  Chapter Nine

  I’m a ball of freaking nerves by the time dinner is done and I’ve had a shower. As I stand at the bathroom vanity, smoothing some million dollar cream into my face—seriously, the shit comes in a bottle that looks like it cost a fortune—cream that Lucian insists I use all over my body, I wonder what will happen if I beg off and stew on the whole sex thing just one more night.

  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 perfe
ction, 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.