35. Tatiana
35
TATIANA
M y stomach quivers anxiously as I try to keep my nerve, but finding Lucian working at the dinner table when I came in threw me off from the start. It was my idea to have Daniella serve dinner family-style, and from the look on his face now, I can only assume the hint fell flat. Then again, I’m probably being too subtle.
Like Natasha said, I need to lay it all out there, but I’m not good at wearing my heart on my sleeve, and after what happened in his office earlier, I’m terrified that he actually doesn’t want to be with me. That I’ll put my heart on the line, and he’ll just walk away.
“Would you like me to serve you some lasagna?” I suggest, pulling the casserole dish toward me and picking up the knife.
He glances up at me, his eyes shifting from the blade to my plunging neckline, then quickly to my face. “Sure. Thanks.” Then he looks back at the papers and makes a note before taking another bite of salad.
Each time he looks away, it chips at my confidence, making me wonder if I should have done this a different way, but I want tonight to be special. I want to show Lucian that I can make grand gestures too, and I want him to feel like I put love and effort into choosing how I tell him we’re going to have a baby together.
“I thought we could celebrate tonight,” I suggest, keeping my voice light as I slide the layers of pasta onto his plate before serving myself.
Taking a deep breath, as if searching for the strength to be patient with me, Lucian sets his pen down and rests his fists on the table. “And why would we do that?”
My stomach flutters, and I press my palm against my abdomen, asking for strength and courage. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I thought today went about as good as it could have gone. We didn’t lose a single man, and we brought down Saturo.”
“You’re right,” Lucian says, his hazel eyes sharp and assessing as he raises his glass of champagne.
Thankfully, I’m prepared this time, and I put sparkling cider in my glass rather than alcohol. So it’s easy to lift my glass and clink it against his. He takes a generous sip, downing half the glass as if it’s nothing and sets the glass aside before turning his attention back to his work.
Damn it, Lucian. Why do you have to make this so much harder than it already is?
I’m on the brink of caving to my insecurity, and I nervously run my palms over the short skirt of my dress. “I was hoping for a bit more celebration than that,” I say, infusing my voice with allure to try and pull his attention back to me. Reaching out, I brush my fingertips across the back of his hand.
His eyes flick to the touch, and he stills, giving me a moment of hope before he clears his throat. “Yes, you certainly look like you’re headed out for a fun night.” Then he moves his hand to fork another bite of dinner into his mouth.
Biting back a sigh, I have to face it—I’m not going to get by with subtle hints or suggestions. I need to be brave enough to tell Lucian what I want. If I don’t, how will he ever know that I’ve changed my mind, that I’ve forgiven him, and that he’s what I want?
He doesn’t even look up as I rise from the table, pushing my chair back with my knees. I step far enough from the table that I’ll have freedom of movement without potentially knocking into any of the dishes, then I reach behind me to slowly drag the zipper of my dress down my back.
And still, he doesn’t look at me.
Fine.
Slipping my off-the-shoulder sleeves down my arms, I shimmy my dress down my legs, letting it pool at my heels. Then I step out of it, wearing nothing but my lingerie and a garter belt to hold up my stockings.
Taking a bold step forward, I plant my hands on the dining table so my cleavage is hovering over the paperwork he’s so intent on studying, my hip cocked so my ass is on full display for him.
Lucian’s gaze drags slowly up my body, taking in every exposed inch of flesh, and that fire I’ve been aching to see all week finally ignites in his hazel eyes as they dilate. I can hardly believe I’m doing this when Daniella or any number of the household staff could walk in on us. But I need to get Lucian’s attention.
“Tatiana, what the hell are you doing?” he asks, his voice husky as he sits back in his chair.
“I’m seducing my husband,” I state, closing the distance he put between us as I grasp the arms of his chair and push him back from the table. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“Trying to drive me out of my ever-loving mind,” he murmurs.
And as I climb into his lap, straddling his thighs, his hands slide over my hips to pull me closer. I press my body against his chest, savoring the heat that radiates off him. That electric connection I’ve been aching to feel for so long crackles between us as I hold his gaze, our lips hovering just inches apart.
I lean in, stealing that last whisper of space, and relief explodes through my core as his lips meet mine with astonishing force. His fingers splay across my ass, pulling me more firmly against him, and I can feel just how hard he is for me. It makes my spine tingle with anticipation, and the breath rushes from me, parting my lips.
Lucian’s tongue strokes out to meet mine, tangling in a tantalizing kiss that makes my pussy throb. Adrenaline surges through me at an astonishing rate, and I sigh with satisfaction, knowing that whatever challenges we might face, this will always be true. I want Lucian, and he wants me.
His hands move slowly up my back, feeling the curves of my body.
“Take me upstairs,” I murmur against his lips, rolling my hips to tell him exactly what I intend to do with him.
Lucian releases a low growl, then his arm snakes around my hips, and he rises effortlessly from his chair. I wrap my legs around his waist, my fingers combing into the back of his silky hair as I kiss him with more ferocity.
Once upon a time, I might have been horrified if he carried me through the house wearing little more than strips of flimsy fabric that hardly cover my most intimate parts. But right now, I want Lucian so badly, I wouldn’t have objected if he decided to take me right there on the dining room table.
My back finds the cool surface of the stair wall, and I gasp as Lucian pins me there, his free hand bracing next to my head as he kisses me fiercely, his tongue delving into my mouth, his teeth nipping lightly at my lower lip, like he can’t get enough of me. I can’t get enough of him either. The peak of my thighs throbs with a steady pulse, eager to feel him inside me.
Gasping for breath as Lucian pulls back for just a second, I look deep into his eyes. Burning in their depths, I find that same intense desire I’ve been so desperate to find, and the reassurance ignites a fire in my belly. Reaching down, I curl my fingers around the edges of his dress shirt and I rip them open, sending buttons pinging against the walls and floor.
A low, throaty chuckle vibrates from Lucian and through my body. My heart flutters, and I lean in to press my lips to the base of his throat, sucking the soft flesh between my teeth. Lucian groans a low cuss, lifting me back off the wall to resume our climb. I love this side of him. I’ve missed this side of him—the man who wants me so fiercely that he can’t seem to stay away.
It feels so good to be in his arms. I can barely breathe, I’m so full of anticipation. The relief of knowing that I’m going to tell him everything I’ve been keeping from him for so long is making me giddy, now that I know I’m not hopelessly in love with a man who no longer wants me. As we reach our master suite, he kicks the door open, and I squeal, relishing the display of force. I don’t stop kissing him as he kicks the door closed behind us, and for a moment, we’re weightless as we fall into bed together.
“God, I want you so bad,” I breathe.
“I think I’m going out of my mind, I need you so badly,” he rasps, his hand roaming up my abdomen to palm my breast.
I moan, the aching tenderness somehow intensely erotic. I know it’s because I’m carrying Lucian’s child—my breasts are already starting to get larger—and that fills me with a deep, instinctual satisfaction that makes the pain more arousing.
“I’ve missed you,” he groans, leaning down to press a kiss between my breasts, and he inhales deeply as if memorizing my scent.
“I’ve missed you so much,” I whimper, scrabbling to push his shirt back off his shoulders.
Lucian rocks back to strip the fabric down his arms, and I sit up to grasp his belt buckle, quickly undoing his slacks. His cock springs free, and I grasp it at the base, not waiting for him to finish undressing as I lean forward to wrap my lips around his swollen tip.
Air hisses between his teeth in the sexiest sound of pleasure, and Lucian’s hips jerk forward as I lower my mouth around him, taking him all the way into the back of my mouth.
“I don’t think you know how many times I’ve pictured those pretty lips wrapped around my cock this week,” he groans.
It makes my core tighten, and my clit throbs. Why hasn’t he acted on it then? I want to know, but I don’t want to stop. Lucian’s fingers comb into my hair, curling around the roots, and I like it when he takes control, guiding my head as he eases in and out of my mouth. I can tell he’s holding back, his deep thrusts only momentary before he pulls back so I can breathe, and while it’s turning me on a lot to have him fuck my throat, I’m glad. My morning sickness is still coming in unpredictable waves, and the last thing I want is to kill the mood by needing to sprint to the bathroom.
Slowly, Lucian guides me back, withdrawing his cock from my mouth, and he uses my hair like reins as he tips my head to look up his gorgeous, chiseled abs at his face. “My turn,” he growls, and he pushes me gently back onto the bed.
Heat coils in my belly as he kicks off his shoes to remove his pants, and I take a moment to appreciate every bulging muscle and sharply defined line. Lucian has a light dusting of black hair across his chest and a dark line that travels south of his navel, directing my eye to the thick, veiny cock standing at full attention. He’s gorgeous and so incredibly masculine. It steals my breath away to know he’s mine.
I never fully appreciated it until now, just how perfect he is, from the dark stubble covering his refined jaw to his proud Roman nose that hooks over his full, soft mouth. His hazel eyes laugh when he catches me openly staring, and the hint of a smile curves his cocky lips.
“Like what you see?” he teases lightly, and it brings me back to our first time together—before he blew my mind about what the word pleasure could mean.
Licking my lips nervously, suddenly feeling like this is my first time, I nod. His expression shifts from playful to molten, and he lowers himself on top of me, spreading my knees with his hips.
“This is what you want, Tatiana?” he murmurs, his lips brushing across the soft skin along my collarbone.
“Yes,” I whisper, frightened my heart might just leap out my throat.