When I'm With You: Part Eight: When We Are One (5 page)

“Why have you been so cold since you went away?” she asked in a muffled voice near his chest after she’d quieted the surge of emotion she experienced at his words.

“When I called once I’d reached London, I was cautious. Uncertain. And you sounded so distant. I wondered if I was correct, to worry about telling you.”

“You worried about telling me about Gaines?”

“Everything I said earlier about doubting myself in regard to telling Ian, I worried about a thousand times worse with you. I wanted to . . . but it seemed like such a toxic thing to spill. That secret along with my mission to find my mother has kept me from intimacy for years now. It never plagued me more than it did with you.”

His naked pain flipped a switch in her. She hugged him tighter, like she thought her embrace truly could keep him safe from all the shadows in his life.

“I’m sorry for not telling you the truth,” he said. “You must think I’m a hypocrite, for always encouraging you to be honest.”

She shook her head against his chest. “No, I understand. You’d held on to that painful truth for so long. No . . . you’d
contained
it inside you. It’s natural that you would worry about loosing it onto the world, onto people you care about. And as for the other, you were right to encourage me to speak the truth. We both know it. I’d lived a life of lies and provocations and manipulations for too long. You gave me the limit I needed. You knew very well I would have done just about anything—risked anything—for you, including learning a little self-restraint and loads of self-respect,” she said in a strangled voice.

She inhaled, trying to breathe past the constricting band around her chest, and looked into his face.

“I love you. How’s that for honesty? How’s that for a risk?” she asked, laughing, a tear skittering down her cheek. “How’s that for trusting in myself?”

His expression flattened; his nostrils flared. He abruptly seized her mouth with his own . . . and Elise was submerged in the truth, swimming in it, and she’d never felt so less afraid of drowning.

“Do you mind?” he asked hoarsely a moment later when he bent and hooked the backs of her legs with his forearm, and he was carrying her toward the stairs, his gaze fiery.

“I’d mind if you didn’t,” she whispered next to this throat.

* * *

Minutes later, they lay naked on the bed together, Lucien on top, their bellies heaving together. He’d pinned her wrists above her head, his gaze never leaving her face as he slid his cock into her, and they fused. She shuddered. The sensation was poignant . . . powerful . . . as sharp as a knife blade. He remained motionless, poised on the sharp edge of desire, relishing it, wanting it to end in crashing, delicious pleasure and wanting it to last forever.

Wanting to stay one with her forever.

“I love you,” he said, emotion and raw desire making his voice harsher than he intended. “I think I’ve always loved you. Not in the way I do now, but still . . . you have always been in my heart. You
are
the heart of me, Elise.”

She stared up at him, rapt, and he was struck anew by her luminous spirit.

“Tell me what you need.”

“I need you,” she whispered.

His cock throbbed unbearably in her clasping sheath. He tightened his hold on her wrists and moved. They both gasped at the sharp pleasure. He stilled again, determined to make the moment last. He opened his eyes and met her stare. He palmed her jaw, wondering yet again at the softness of her skin. He would draw this out . . . stay perched on this exquisite cliff of pleasure for hours, keeping them tied together for as long as God would allow a mere mortal man.

She squeezed him with her vaginal muscles and he winced in pleasure, groaning and stroking her even though he hadn’t meant to. She tempted him so sorely . . .

“I will never teach you discipline,” he rasped, fucking her with long, forceful strokes. “It was a losing battle from day one.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You are not. And neither am I. I wouldn’t have you any other way,” he managed before he took them higher, and all rational thought was forgotten.

* * *

Afterward, they lay as close as two people can get, their breath slowing together until it blended into a lazy, hypnotic synchrony, his penis still inside her. He felt her warm, soft body jump slightly beneath him and lifted his head to study her startled, perspiration-sheened features.

“What of your mother? Francesca told me
that Helen was able to give you her name before she passed away. I thought you’d leave immediately for Morocco to find her!”

He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. “A day or two isn’t going to make a difference after all this time. Besides, I had other family to attend to.”

Her elegant throat convulsed.
“Me?”
she asked incredulously.

He smiled down at her. “If there’s one thing that all of this has taught us, surely it’s that
we
choose our families. Blood doesn’t determine a family. Legal arrangement doesn’t either, not necessarily. We were loners apart, but together . . . yes, we’re a family, you and I. Or we can be.”

“I had no idea you would ever feel that way,” she said, wonder tingeing her tone. When she noticed his upraised brows, she said in a rush, “Of course I want to be your family. And of course you’re mine. But . . . when did you realize?”

“It’s been coming upon me slowly, but I think I even knew it, deep down, ever since that day you blazed into Fusion, insisting you were my new chef. I knew you were a risk to my mission here in Chicago, but I couldn’t resist,” he said, smiling wider at the memory. He shook his head. “What balls you have, for a tiny little woman.”

“I’m not tiny,” she refuted. Her frown melted away. “What do you mean, you felt that way ever since that day?”

He shrugged, his expression sobering as he looked down at her. “Just that I realized for the first time that I couldn’t walk away from you again, especially when you’d strutted back into my life, practically grinding the red flag up my nose. If you could risk it so flagrantly, then surely so could I.”

“You made our relationship sound like it was going to be purely sexual . . . for the mutual gratification of needs,” she said, her scowl returning. But behind it, he sensed her dawning wonder.

“Well, it’s certainly been that.”

He laughed softly when he saw her wry expression. “It wasn’t always as clear to me as it is now. I’m speaking in retrospect. But I suspect part of me knew, even back then, because I took on the challenge of you, even knowing it might sacrifice my chance of other family. Ian and my biological mother,” he clarified when she gave him a puzzled look. “Besides, you didn’t trust me. I had to say something that would keep you tied to me.”

“So you settled for tying me up in the sexual sense,” she said accusingly.

He lightly kissed her mouth, and despite her pique, her lips caressed his back.

“I really did need to teach you control, Elise. You would have burned me alive if I didn’t. You may still,” he admitted ruefully under his breath.

She reached up and ran her fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes in pleasure when she scraped his scalp with her nails, and his cock quickened in her warm channel.

“You were my own personal
sac de nœuds
,”
he said, growling softly as she caressed him and his body tightened and hardened. Her hands stilled on his head. He opened his eyes.

“You thought of me as a sack of knots?” she asked, sounding mildly offended.

He flexed his hips, thrusting. She gasped.

“Don’t worry,
ma chère
,” he rasped as he braced his upper body off her, withdrew, and stroked her again, deep and hard. He caught her soft moan with his skimming lips. “It’s a challenge I’m more than up to, and unfurling the mysteries of you will keep me busy—not to mention amply rewarded—for a lifetime.”