16. Lucian
16
LUCIAN
M y thoughts and emotions mirror the tumultuous sea below me, the dark waves cresting before they crash against the shore. I don’t know where to go from here. Seeing the pain I’ve caused Tatiana is almost more than I can bear. I knew that killing Boris Sokolov was the wrong move after his daughters threw everything they had at me for it. But I hadn’t realized just how horribly I’d screwed up. I thought it was posturing—proving their strength so I wouldn’t think I could swoop in and take over Manhattan when he was gone.
It makes my heart ache to realize I might have caused irreparable damage to the relationship I’d hoped Tatiana and I could have someday. It would seem I’ve finally found the impenetrable barrier that separates us, the reason she won’t let down her guard around me, and the crushing weight of the reality I’ve created is agonizing. The realization that she could never forgive me—that I’ve trapped her in a marriage she will never learn to accept is more than I can bear.
How could I have been so blind?
I was fixated on my own perception of the situation rather than realizing not everything is as it seems. What a grand master chess player I’ve turned out to be. I sacrificed my own king.
It would be too easy to consider the circumstances hopeless after Tatiana’s outburst today. The heart-wrenching tears that followed. I got a front-row seat to the devastation I’ve caused, and digging myself out of that hole feels rather impossible. But I’ve never been a quitter. And I don’t like to admit defeat.
So after Tatiana finally cried herself to sleep and I stayed awake for hours, I slipped quietly out of the villa to spend some time formulating my next plan of action. It might actually be timely that I took Tatiana away from the city—away from her responsibilities and the reminders of her father which must constantly trigger that resentment she clearly feels toward me.
Maybe over the next few days, I can show her my feelings for her are genuine and that I want to make this relationship the real deal. But I’m not so certain that it will be enough anymore. All I can do is hope.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
The sweet murmured voice sends a jolt through my chest, and my pulse quickens when I catch Tatiana’s scent of warm honey and lavender. My head snaps in her direction, and I’m surprised to find she’s standing close to me—I didn’t even hear her open the balcony door.
“No. Did I wake you?”
She shakes her head as I straighten, releasing the railing, and Tatiana’s fingers catch my palm.
Her touch is light and delicate as she wraps my arm around her shoulders, and my heart beats harder as the simple gesture gives me a hope I scarcely dared to have after the conversation that took place today. My chest swells with emotion as I pull her close, bringing her back against my chest, pressing my cheek to her ear so we can stare out at the horizon together.
She keeps our fingers interlaced over her belly button, my arms snug around her body, and she must feel the pounding rhythm of my heart against her back. But she seems unusually content to simply stand with me in the silence.
Perhaps her outburst earlier was cathartic in some sense. I have no doubt she needed to cry. From the intensity of her tears, I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s the first time she’s truly cried about her father. It makes me feel that much worse—witnessing the kind of pain my actions have caused. But I’m glad I saw it. I needed to know.
I’m not quite sure where to go from here. I don’t know that what I’ve broken can be mended. But I know what I want. Tatiana is the only thing I want in this world that I don’t already have, and I want her with a ferocity that robs the air from my lungs. If I can’t have her, I don’t know that I’m capable of moving on. I don’t know if I can let her go.
So for now, I hold her in my arms, savoring the way she feels against me, the way we fit together so perfectly. This moment feels dangerously temporary, and at the same time, perhaps that’s why it feels so special. It’s a rare moment of peace between us—where Tatiana isn’t loathing the very sight of me or I’m making her scream my name in bed.
The one thing I’m sure of is that no matter how much she might hate me, our chemistry is undeniable. She wants me, even if she can never forgive me. And knowing that I can have part of her—but not all of her—feels somehow that much more agonizing.
Closing my eyes, I breathe in Tatiana’s sweet, calming scent. I relish her soft curves and radiant warmth. She’s still wearing her dress from earlier, but I took off her heels when I carried her to bed, and she feels smaller, more delicate and vulnerable without them—more in need of my protection than ever.
Even if I can’t fix what I’ve done, right now, in this moment, I make a vow that I will protect her—whatever it takes, whatever she’ll allow, I want to be there to keep her safe because I never want to see her cry like that again. It will be the end of me.
Her breathing is soft and deep, her body relaxed against me as she peers out at the Mediterranean. The moon casts a silver light across the water, catching each of the waves that crest on their way to the black sand beach. The stucco houses beneath us look like a patchwork quilt of pastel color in the dim light, the trees a dark-green border.
The peace of the early morning hour settles over us, and the relief that seeps into my soul feels almost like contentment. If only I knew how to make things right with the woman I’ve lost my mind over.
Slowly, Tatiana turns in my arms, her blue eyes round and astoundingly soft as she peers up at me through her dark lashes.
“Come to bed?” she murmurs, the question so inviting, I couldn’t say no if I wanted.
A sad smile curves my lips, and I lean in to scoop her up, sweeping her off her feet in a bridal hold. Her teeth flash in the moonlight as she returns my smile with a genuine one, and her arms wrap around my shoulders.
I’m not sure what her change in mood means.
Maybe, telling me she hates me, telling me how much I hurt her is what she needed to find the space to move on. Or maybe, just for tonight, she’s decided to call a truce because we’re halfway across the world in one of the most romantic countries a person could find.
Whatever the reason, I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Stooping beneath the sheer drape covering our patio door, I carry Tatiana back inside and lay her on the bed. She sits up as I straighten, her fingers wrapping around the back of my neck, and I hold her gaze for an extended moment before I lean in to claim her lips.
I do it softly, slowly, pressing my mouth against hers without demanding anything in return, and my pulse flutters when her lips part, inviting me in. This isn’t at all how I intended our first night in Italy to go. But somehow, in the end, we found our way exactly where I saw us ending up.
The sense of hope that surges through me sends tingling anticipation up my spine, and I plant my hands on either side of Tatiana’s hips as I kiss her for as long as she’ll let me. Her fingers trail from my neck down to the buttons of my cream-colored linen button-down. She gives the fabric a tug, encouraging me closer as she opens my shirt one button at a time.
Her soft sky-blue summer dress skims up her thighs as her legs bend to accommodate me as I kneel on the bed, and her tongue darts out to wet her full ruby lips as she leans back, bringing me with her.
It’s the first time she’s initiated anything with me, and though I know she’s attracted to me—that I arouse her, regardless of how she feels about me—it stokes my hope to know she’s looking for my attention. I hadn’t realized how much that could mean to me. I’m used to being assertive. I know how to get what I want, and I know women like what I have to offer. I’m a confident enough man to know I’m good-looking, and I know how to be charming when I want something. But I didn’t know how good it could feel to have the woman I want asking me for attention.
As Tatiana lies back across the mattress, her thick locks of auburn hair fanning across the white sheets, I’ve never wanted to please a woman more. Her blue eyes are electric with desire, her full lips parted just slightly as she asks me with a look to prove what she means to me.
Shrugging out of my linen shirt, I toss it aside before returning my palms to the mattress on either side of Tatiana’s shoulders, and I lean in to press a kiss to the soft flesh beneath her jaw. She gasps, her chest rising until the fabric of her dress brushes across my pecs, and I slowly work my way down her neck.
My fingers lead the way, tracing a line along her collarbone before traveling between her breasts. Tatiana squirms beneath me, her fingers reaching for the zipper beneath her armpit, and she draws it down, opening the dress for me like one might unwrap a present on Christmas morning.
Hooking my fingers around the straps at her shoulders, I guide the dress down, uncovering her balconette bra, and my cock stiffens at the sheer perfection of her as she arches her back and lifts her hips to allow me to undress her.
Our lips meet in a searing kiss, and her fingers comb into my hair, tangling in it as she pulls me down onto her. Ravenous desire ignites in my body, my cock standing at full attention against the seam of my pants as I’m suddenly rock-hard.
I don’t know where Tatiana and I stand exactly, but when it comes to sex, I have no doubts. I let my desire take the driver’s seat, pushing my tumultuous thoughts to the back of my mind as I savor the moment.
Tatiana releases a shuddering breath as I open the zipper of my pants and shove them down, allowing my erection to spring free. Then I’m trailing a path of kisses back down her neck and between her breasts, nipping and sucking her flesh and leaving possessive marks of pleasure on her creamy skin.
Her hips roll as I reach the waistline of her lace panties and take them between my teeth. I lock eyes with her as I slowly drag them down her body. Tatiana’s lips part, her breaths coming harder as she lifts her hips so I can remove her lingerie without my hands. Then I return to her thighs, hooking them over my shoulders as I hoist her hips so I can taste her sweet nectar.
Tatiana cries out, her fingers fisting in the sheets as she jerks and twitches against my lips. Then her fingers comb into my hair as she gives a soft tug.
“Please, I need you inside me,” she pants.
The words are like a jolt of adrenaline straight to my heart. My cock throbs, stiffening until it nearly hits my abdomen in its excitement, and nothing on God’s green earth could stop me from giving her what she wants.
Running my tongue between her slick folds one last time, I lower Tatiana’s hips to the bed. Then I straighten, shoving my pants down my hips in one fluid motion. Her bra hits the floor a second later, and as I fall on top of her, the feel of our bare skin pressed together, the heat of her body, and the brush of her hard nipples across my chest all drive me wild.
“God, you’re so perfect,” I murmur against her lips, and as I press inside her, I know that this is why Tatiana and I are meant for each other.
We might have impossible hurdles to overcome, but when she’s wrapped in my arms and I’m buried inside her, nothing else matters.
This is what I live for.