Chapter 31
Chapter thirty-one
My eyes fluttered open to the most delicious sight I’d ever seen.
Mr. Shadowman sat kicked back in a chair, his long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle, elbow braced on the armrest, thumb resting thoughtfully against his lip. A white button-down and dark slacks fit him like a glove.
He’d been watching me while I slept.
No—he was guarding me.
He didn’t so much as blink. Those emerald-green eyes of his were the windows to his soul and said everything without a word.
I was his.
A smile spread across my face before I could stop it.
God, he was handsome. But it went deeper than that now.
He was the only person on this earth I trusted without hesitation.
Somewhere along the brutal path that had led us here, he’d worked his way into my head and my heart, my future without ever asking, and I didn’t mind one bit.
The idea that the man sitting across from me could be my forever was more than I’d ever allowed myself to imagine.
I pushed upright and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, dragging the sheet up with me.
“There’s no need to hide that gorgeous body of yours, my little bird. There’s not a part of you I haven’t seen,” he said, drawing his feet in and sitting forward.
The morning light streamed through the window, and suddenly I was acutely aware of every inch of my bare skin. He was fully dressed; I was completely exposed.
“That’s easy for you to say,” I replied, twisting a curl around my finger. “You’re dressed and ready for the day.”
Light poured across the room, laying bare every inch of my naked body. But the nerves fluttering in my stomach weren’t insecurity. They were anticipation. The thrill of his eyes tracing over me—especially the most intimate parts—sent heat between my thighs.
I drew a steady breath.
First things first—I had to pee and get cleaned up.
I slipped from the bed, the sheet clutched loosely in front of me, cool air brushing over my bare backside as I hurried toward the bathroom.
The shower was quick. I dried my hair, brushed my teeth, and stared at my reflection, wondering what the day would bring. I hadn’t brought clothes in with me, only last night’s dress lay on the vanity, so I wrapped a towel around my body and stepped back into the room.
“Oh. Oh my.”
I froze.
Lucian stood completely naked, his body partially silhouetted by the light spilling in from the window behind him. He looked carved from stone—broad shoulders, muscular chest, thick thighs. It was entirely unfair of him to look like a Greek god.
He was so out of my league.
But the hunger in his expression erased that thought. He wanted me just as fiercely as I wanted him.
He held out his hand. “Come here, Scar. Don’t be shy. I want to start your day off the right way.”
His gaze traveled slowly down my body and back up again.
I stepped forward and slid my hand into his. He pulled me flush against him, my back to his chest, his arms wrapping around me from behind. He bent and pressed a kiss to the top of my head.
“I’ve ordered room service,” he murmured.
“So I won’t be able to worship you for hours the way I’d like.
But that’ll come later—when I get you home.
” His mouth brushed my ear. “I plan on spending the rest of our lives learning every inch of you. Discovering what lights you up. What makes you forget everything but me.”
My pulse skipped.
The rest of our lives?
Before I could dwell on what that meant, his hand skimmed up my arm and swept my hair from my neck. His lips followed to my shoulder, throat, that sensitive place just behind my ear.
A soft hum slipped from me, and I melted back against his chest.
He hooked a finger into the edge of the towel, knocking it to the floor.
His mouth continued its slow descent along my jaw while his hands slid from my waist to my breasts. His palms cupped them, thumbs circling my nipples until they hardened under his touch, making my knees weak.
There was something about Lucian’s touch that undid me. For a man built like a weapon, he handled me with care. I knew he was capable of darker things. I’d seen flashes of it. But with me, he read every reaction, adjusting, waiting, pushing only as far as I could take.
His cock pressed hot against my back.
One hand drifted down my stomach and between my thighs. His fingers dragged across my clit before slipping lower and easing inside.
A rough growl vibrated against my shoulder as his grip tightened on my breast, pulling me tighter to him.
His slick fingers returned to my clit, tracing slow, deliberate circles.
My breath hitched as heat curled low in my belly.
Two fingers drove in and out of me while his thumb flicked against my clit in a steady rhythm. My vision blurred. I was already balancing on the edge.
He pushed his fingers deeper, faster, teeth grazing my earlobe as he kept a relentless pace, pumping inside me and stroking my clit.
Then all of a sudden, his fingers pinched my nipple at the same moment his thumb pressed hard against my clit.
The world detonated.
Pleasure tore through me, fierce and blinding. My legs buckled, but he caught me, holding me upright as his fingers plunged back into my pussy, my walls convulsing around him and wringing out every last wave of my climax.
“That’s my girl,” he murmured against my temple. “Come all over my fingers.”
He held me tight as I shattered.
When my thoughts finally returned, I tried to turn around to give him the pleasure he deserved.
But he stopped me.
Instead, he lifted me onto the bed and positioned me on all fours before climbing up behind me.
I started trembling.
It was an old reflex. When men wouldn’t meet your eyes, it meant they were about to be cruel. They would fuck you hard, take what they wanted, and shove your face into the mattress afterward.
I tried to crawl forward, but Lucian caught my hips.
“Easy, my little bird. Nothing’s going to hurt you.”
His hands moved slowly over my hips, across my waist, and up my spine in steady, soothing strokes. He leaned over me, bracing himself on one hand, his stomach warm against my back.
“You’re always in control,” he murmured. “You say stop, and I stop. Give me a safe word. Something that will always be our secret.”
Shame prickled at me. I hated that my body had reacted that way. I hated the implication that I didn’t trust him.
Because I did.
If I wanted the wounds that were carved into me from the monastery to close, I had to let him in. I had to let him overwrite the past.
I breathed in and shut the reaction down.
“Mercy.”
I turned my head and pressed a kiss to the hard curve of his bicep.
“Mercy,” he repeated. “I will always be at your mercy, my little bird. Understand this—you command me with that word. It belongs to you. And I will always obey.”
His vow settled deep within me, so I gave myself over to him.
I lowered my shoulders onto the mattress and arched my back, offering myself to him.
He bent down, placing slow kisses along my spine before wrapping his arms around my waist and cupping my breasts. We stayed like that for a long moment, his warmth surrounding me, enveloping me in a tender cocoon.
Then his hand slid between my thighs, fingers stroking slowly along my slit.
He took my hand and placed it where his had been. “Touch yourself, Scar. It’s time you took control of your own pleasure. Let me see how you move.”
His palm hovered over mine as I traced myself. The awareness of him watching—studying—sent a shiver through me. I pressed more firmly, then slipped a finger inside.
Heat bloomed low in my stomach.
For years, the thought of touching myself had filled me with revulsion. That part of my body had belonged to pain and obligation. But here, under Lucian’s gaze, it was different.
Curiosity replaced disgust. Control replaced shame.
“Mmm,” I hummed, “it feels so good.”
“That’s it,” he murmured, kissing my shoulder. “Focus on your pleasure.”
He straightened behind me, hands sliding over my hips as I continued to move, copying his rhythm.
His fingers drifted across my back, gliding over my bottom, his thumbs grazing the cleft between my cheeks. Then one thumb traced slowly down from my spine to my tight opening.
I jerked.
“Don’t worry, Scar. We won’t play there until you’re ready.”
His thumb traced slow circles over the ring, but didn’t push farther. The nerves there sparked and pulled me toward the edge again.
He shifted back slightly, one hand gripping my hip while the other guided his cock to my entrance, meeting the finger I had inside myself. I withdrew it, and he slid the head in just barely, enough to make me gasp.
“Work that clit, my little bird,” he demanded.
I obeyed, rubbing small, tight circles.
“That’s it. Such a good girl. Offering yourself to me.”
Heat coiled low between my thighs as I chased the high I’d only ever found with him.
He drew the tip back to the tight ring and brushed it there once more before returning to my entrance. Then he pushed in deeper. My walls fluttered around him.
I wanted all of him.
Now.
I rocked upward, seeking more, and he answered with a firm thrust that stretched me in a deliciously satisfying way. I kept stroking my clit as he began moving in and out, building a faster tempo. The friction sharpened, and I chased it.
Then he slid his hands beneath me and lifted me onto my knees. His hands wrapped around my ribs, holding me upright as he drove up into me. The angle shifted everything—deeper, closer, more intimate.
The image of this in front of a mirror flashed through my mind.
One hand left my ribs and moved between my breasts, gliding up to my throat while the other anchored my hip and controlled the pace. His fingers circled my neck and squeezed gently. Not pain. Just pressure.
My breath shortened. My mind flickered toward the word—Mercy—but I kept it locked behind my teeth.
“Play with yourself.”
I returned my fingers to my clit and stroked.
His grip tightened slightly around my throat, restricting my air just enough to make my head spin. My pussy throbbed in response, clenching around him.
A moan tore out of me as I ground back against him.
“That’s it, Scar. Come all over my cock. Let me feel those walls grip down on me.”
That man’s words were like magic. Whatever he commanded, my body answered without hesitation.
The edge finally snapped.
Pleasure burst through me in white flashes, heat racing up my spine. My hips met his thrust for thrust, riding the aftershocks as he kept moving.
He lowered me back down until my shoulders met the mattress again.
I fisted the sheets and drove myself back against him with renewed force, wanting to please him the way he’d just pleased me.
“Oh, fuck, yes. That’s my girl. Squeeze that tight little pussy,” he groaned.
I gave him everything I had as his fingers dug into my hips.
“Fuck me, Lucian. Give me that cock that’s been hard for me so many times.”
And with that, his release tore through him.
His thrusts became erratic as he filled me, driving deeper and harder with each pulse. On the last one, he locked his arms around me and held me tight, his cock jerking inside me as he emptied himself.
Then he went still.
After a moment, he loosened his grip and lowered himself over me, breathing hard. We stayed like that, tangled together, letting the world settle back into place.
“I never knew sex could be like this,” I murmured. “It’s…mind-blowing.”
He chuckled, his chest rumbling against my back. “Scar, you’ve done so well. Placing your trust—your body—in my hands is everything. The way you surrender to me, the way you move for me…” His voice dipped lower. “You’re immaculate.”
A knock rapped loudly on the door.
Lucian grunted. “That’s our food. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
He pulled out of me and rolled off the bed, heading straight for the door.
“What are you doing? You’re butt naked!” I yelped.
He laughed and scratched his stomach. “I don’t give a fuck. I’m hungry.”
I scrambled out of bed, snatched the towel off the floor, and hurled it at him. “Wrap that around you before you traumatize the poor guy on the other side of that door.”
He caught it easily and tied it around his waist, then crossed to the table and picked up one of his guns.
Naked and armed.
Apparently, this was what loving a mafia man looked like.
I bolted for the bathroom and slammed the door shut.