Page 78 of Betrayed
Tears burn the corners of my eyes. “Lucian…”
“You’re mine, Erin.”
My head falls back. My side burns and aches, but it’s nothing like the one between my thighs. The sound of our bodies, slick and frantic, is drowned beneath the wind battering the windows.
But we don’t stop.
Can’t.
Our bodies are at war with one another.
“Harder,” I beg.
He gives it to me.
Each stroke makes me cry out. His grip bruises my hips. My legs start to tremble, but he holds me up, relentless, rutting into me like he’s trying to erase the fear, the guilt, the ghosts.
I lose track of time.
I lose track of me.
Because all I know is him.
Lucian.
His hands. His voice. His body inside mine, claiming, commanding, grounding me in this moment like nothing else can.
I never want to let him go.
And then?—
A sound outside the bathroom window. Close to where we stand.
Lucian goes still.
My body clenches instinctively, painfully close to the edge.
He doesn’t let go of me. Doesn’t lower me. Just turns toward the door like a predator, cock still buried inside me, heart thudding against my chest.
“Don’t move,” he says darkly.
“What is it?”
He shakes his head.
I watch his face.
The shift from lover to killer is chilling.
And I’ve never felt safer.
I tighten my arms around his neck, and he holds me tight, still inside me as he stalks to the window, throws it open—and it’s nothing.
“Just a fox darting through the hedges.” He exhales sharply and shuts the window, locking it, muttering something about, “Only in England.”
Then turns back to me.
My thoughts float with my body as he takes me to another world. Despite my hang-ups about what he belongs to. Maybe a mafia is just a group. And people are people. And you have to choose the ones you belong with.
