Breaking Out (The Surrender Trilogy 2)

“I’m sorry.”

He looked at her. “I think that’s why I have no interest in games. I need to have control and know I have it without question. I don’t want a puppet, but I need to be with someone who has the faith in me to give me final say. All this guilt I have from Monique and Slade, I know it’s misplaced, but knowing that doesn’t take it away.”

They were quiet for a while, and Evelyn finally said, “All of my life I’ve had to make decisions. I’ve had to decide how we would eat, where we would sleep, and constantly worry if my mother was going to get stoned or die trying. I’ve been making those decisions since I was a baby, and I’m tired. You could be an average Joe for me, Lucian. I don’t want you for your money. But I have to admit, the way you take control, the way you decide for me—maybe I should find it offensive, but I don’t. I love it. I trust you to never intentionally hurt me. I believe you love me and will always do everything in your power to protect me. I can’t surrender my free will completely, but I can almost guarantee if you told me not to do something I would listen, because I think you are one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. And, after this past week, I don’t ever want to disappoint you again.”

The side of his mouth curled up in a half smile. “And what if I told you to do something?”

She recognized that playful look in his eye, found relief in it, as the tension seemed to fade with its presence. “That’s fun too.”

“Come here.”

He scooted his chair back from the table and parted his knees. Standing, Evelyn moved between his spread thighs. His hands gripped her hips and massaged. “You’re looking very sporty today, Ms. Keats.” His finger dipped in the elastic band of her pants.

Leaning forward he pressed his face into the flat apex of her thighs. Through the fitted cotton, moist heat of his breath warmed her skin. “I want your pussy, Evelyn.”

Her shoulders rolled with a reverberation from her center that tickled up her spine. Her voice was a mere rasp. “Have it.”

Without needing more of an invitation, he shoved her tight pants over her hips with her panties, beneath the rounded curve of her ass. The cool air of the kitchen chilled her folds. That was all it took; one look, one command, one touch from Lucian and she was ready for him.

The thrill of their intimacy touched on so many levels. Physical transcended to emotional and back again. Her feelings for him ran so deep, a strong ache burst inside her chest at that look of need in his eyes, sending chills over her flesh and shivers up her spine.

His grip returned to her now nude hips as he yanked her close. Leaning into the apex of her thighs, he drew an audible breath at her arousal followed by a satisfied groan. The heat of his tongue had her cocking her hip to the side as heat trailed up the crease of her thigh just before his teeth nipped at her waist.

Her breath quickened as long fingers bunched the material of her shirt, pressing it up and over her belly. His tongue traced the concave slope where her ribs stretched beneath her flesh.

Nipples drew into two taut little buds. An urge to rip off her top and demand he suckle her breasts until they felt bruised and satisfied built within her, but he was in charge and taking his time. Sharp teeth bit at her side in a superficial nip, causing her to jerk. He brought her body to attention in the blink of an eye and could keep it poised along the sharp edge of something decadent for ages, drawing out every lick, kiss, and touch to such an acute sense of pleasure it blended with pain.

“Lucian . . .”

“Yes,” he said slowly as his mouth worked its way back down to her other hip.

“You’re torturing me on purpose.”

“Yes.” His agreement was tinged with assumed arrogance. Evelyn smiled over his dark hair. Cocky bastard.

“Let’s go upstairs.”

His tongue made slow work of teasing its way to the delta of her pussy. He was purposely avoiding her clit, which was now straining against her flesh, begging for attention. Her pants formed a tourniquet about her thighs, adding to the pressure building in her body and hampering her ability to squirm and add friction in hopes of some relief.

“No,” he said, biting slowly at her ass cheek.

She could hear the presence of others in the house. “But Lucy . . .”

“Do you think Lucy doesn’t know what we do at night? I’ve made it quite clear to my staff that I fuck you on a regular basis, Evelyn.”