Relentless (Starcrossed Lovers Trilogy 3)

My fingers were nice and wet when I shifted position enough to play with her swollen pink bud of a clit. She was squirming, greedy, moaning for more as I played her like my sacred little instrument, faster and faster and faster.

Yes.

This was the connection that had eaten us up in the first place. The calling that had snared us right from that very first encounter at her sister’s sad little birthday ball. This was the reason we were here in the first place and it had turned into so much fucking more.

She came before I did. I watched her crest and peak before I slammed deep and fast enough to shoot my load inside her, my hand on her throat as I took my fill.

We were both panting, wrecked when I pulled away from her. The air was tense and glorious, both of us still heady on the climax when I reached out and held her hand.

She held mine back. Tight. Both of us staring up at the ceiling. I didn’t need to see her face to know she was smiling along with me.

The bustle of the London street outside was a whole load busier when I gathered myself enough to take a look out of the window, the morning finding its true swing.

I pulled a fresh pair of pants on from my suitcase, smirking down at her while she winced, soothing her poor battered pussy.

“We’d better go get that goddamn cell, then,” she laughed. “You’re going to have to help me off the bed though, since I’m too damn sore to move.”

She held out her hands with a grin and I pulled her up to her feet.

17

Elaine

My stomach was rumbling as we finished getting dressed, ready to head out into London. I could feel it as I put my sneakers on and it was so loud even Lucian heard it standing next to me.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he said. “We definitely need breakfast right now more than we need a cell phone.”

I sure wasn’t going to argue with him on that.

We headed downstairs and they were already serving breakfast in the hotel restaurant. We stepped in and found a table, and it was a whole other round of strange—sitting in public next to the man the whole world expected me to despise. There were a few other couples eating, but they were all too busy with their food to give us much attention.

The woman who came up to take our order barely looked at us either. She had a notepad in her hands and hardly shot us a glance. Probably not least because I had my hair scraped up into a loose ponytail and Lucian still had those nerdy glasses on. I hadn’t worn makeup for so long I’d almost forgotten what it felt like. I was hardly recognizing myself in the mirror, let alone anyone else recognizing me.

“Full English?” the waitress asked, and I looked up at her.

“What’s a full English?”

She listed a whole load of things she’d be serving up. Sausages, bacon, eggs, baked beans, hash browns, something called a black pudding, and wholemeal toast. Even the thought made my stomach rumble some more. It sounded like an absolute feast, apart from a black pudding, that didn’t sound so good.

Lucian was looking at me, waiting for me to answer.

“Yes, please,” I said to the waitress with a smile. “I’ll have a full English.”

“Tea or coffee?” she asked, and I was still smiling.

“Black coffee, please.”

She looked at Lucian, and he was smiling too. I loved how easy and casual he looked here, enjoying the simplicity of the place.

“I’ll have the same as Elaine,” he said, and my eyes widened.

Penelope. My name was Penelope.

Luckily the server didn’t seem to notice or care.

“Coming right up,” she said, then pointed to a counter at the side of the room. “If you want any fruit or cereal in the meantime, just help yourselves.”

I leaned across the table to get closer to Lucian, whispering just loud enough that he could hear me as she walked away.

“You called me Elaine!” I said. “My name is Penelope, remember?”

His stare was so firm.

“I know,” he told me. “I’m perfectly aware I called you Elaine.”

“But she might know—”

He shook his head. “Too dumb. She barely knows her own name, I imagine.”

Damn he was so rude. I saw that side of him again. The arrogance. The bluntness. The sarcasm. It was classic Lucian Morelli.

He leaned across the table to me as I leaned away.

“I won’t be calling you anything but Elaine unless I damn well have to. It’s sacrilege.”

“What do I do, then? Go around calling you Lucian right back?”

“Let’s see how far we get around London, then, shall we?”

He smirked. He actually smirked.

“You’re fucking crazy,” I said, attracting stares from an elderly couple nearby.

“You really are a sassy little bitch, you know that?” Lucian whispered. “It’s going to make punishing you for it so fucking pleasurable.”