Page 35 of Sensual Games

But it wasn’t enough. It never would be because I wasn’t enough.

Without thinking, I dropped onto the bed and covered my face with my hands. “It’s all hopeless. There’s nothing I can do. I’m so lost.”

Somewhere in there, he dropped to his knees, gently pulling my hands from my face so I could look at him through eyes blurred with tears. “Talk to me, Poison. Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

“Mom is…” I blubbered. “She broke her hip. I was with her all weekend, and I’m fucking exhausted, and I don’t know what to do for her.”

A long breath escaped him. “Oh, Christ.”

Now that I had opened the floodgates, everything came pouring out. I’d been holding it all inside for so long. “They’re not taking good care of her there. She needs more attention than they can give her, but I can’t afford that. Look where I live!” I barked out a high-pitched laugh, sweeping an arm around. “This is my palace. This is all I can afford after paying for her expenses. And it’s not enough. It’s still not enough.”

His mouth worked like he wanted to offer something but didn’t have the first clue what. No big shock there. No doubt, his biggest worry normally had to do with not getting a reservation at the hottest new restaurant. Eventually, he pulled himself together enough to offer, “I’m sorry you’re going through this. I’m sorry she is… I… wish I knew what else I could say.” Through my blurred vision, I noticed the way his eyes lit up. “Let me help. I want to help.”

Red flags waved frantically in my head. “No. I couldn’t let you do that.”

“Don’t let your pride get in the way now, Poison,” he scoffed. “This is important. You know I have more than enough?—”

I didn’t need to hear this. “I know you do, but I can’t accept it.”

“Why won’t you let me help? If not for yourself, for her.”

He had no idea how he was twisting me up inside. Because he had a point— he would never miss the kind of money it would take to have Mom in a nice place with nice people, somewhere she could recover and make friends. That was all I wanted for her.

But what would it cost? Because money wasn’t the only thing in question here. What would I owe him beyond dollars and cents if I let him take this step? It would connect us in a way I wasn’t sure I wanted to be, no matter how good he was in bed or how much I appreciated the concern he showed.

“Because some things… I just can’t do,” I concluded with a shrug, sniffling as the wave of emotion died down. “But thank you. I mean it. You don’t have to care, so it’s nice to know that you do.”

He sat back on his calves, scowling. “You’re impossible.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

When he took my face in his hands and stroked my cheeks with his thumbs, I could close my eyes and, for the first time in days—months, who was I kidding— let go. I wasn’t handing him all of my problems, but I could let him bear them for a little while. Just long enough for me to release some of the tension still knotting my muscles and making my head pound. Little by little, he eased that tension, allowing me to melt into his touch.

“I’m here.” His lips brushed my forehead and nose then moved down to touch my lips. “I’m right here. You don’t have to be alone.”

Those were the magic words. He couldn’t have said anything else that would impact me as deeply. I had been so alone all these months, scrambling around, trying to take care of Mom, trying to take care of my own life or what little of it there was after I gave everything to her. I wasn’t alone anymore.

He kissed me again, and this time, I kissed him back, stroking his tongue with mine, faintly moaning when he growled and pulled me tight against him, wrapping me in his arms and holding me against his firm chest. This was all I needed—to let go, if only for now and remember there was still something in my life that had nothing to do with nursing homes, hospitals, and bills.

He tugged the belt on my robe, letting it fall open, his fingertips stroking my bare skin. All at once, my sadness turned to heat, and everything that seemed so gray and hopeless burst to life in full color. All because of the way Lucian’s hands slid over my skin, lighting me up and bringing me back to life.

“You are so beautiful.” There was hunger in his voice, the sort that made me want him more than ever.

“Touch me,” I whispered into his mouth, kissing him again. “Please. Make me feel good.”

He eased me back, spreading the robe open as he did. There was nothing in the world but sensation and pleasure. The delicious tingle left behind every time his lips touched my skin, the friction from the scruff on his cheeks chafing my thighs and my stomach as he worked his way up my body.

By the time he reached my breasts, I had to touch him, my fingers running through his hair, over his back and shoulders. How was he so damn muscular? I was glad when he pulled his polo over his head so I could feel his skin. It was so warm and easy to scrape with my nails until he growled, nipping at my throat before lapping my skin.

“Let me take care of you.” It was a combination of the words and the growl running through his voice that got my juices flowing harder than ever. I was dripping wet by the time his fingers slid over my lips, teasing my slit.

“Oh, God…” I lifted my hips, desperate for more.

“Relax. Feel it. Don’t rush it.” He continued the same slow torture, stroking my flesh without giving me what I needed. I couldn’t breathe without whimpering, completely seized by the overwhelming need for relief from this tension.

“Let go, Poison,” he murmured in my ear, and the thought was so seductive. It went deeper than the physical. I wanted to let go of everything, forget anything that wasn’t this. Anything that didn’t feel good.

“Oh, please,” I begged, on the verge of tears. “Please, let me come! I can’t stand it!”

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