Authors: Julie Ortolon
Lifting a hand, she laid it on his cheek. “Kiss me.”
The simple request broke his heart. If a kiss would soothe her, he’d kiss her for an eternity. Lowering his head, he touched his lips to hers, brushing gently. He tried to keep the kiss light and comforting, but her mouth opened under his. She tasted sweet, so very sweet, his tongue couldn’t resist. Her arms wound around his neck as she moved closer, pressing her breasts against his chest.
The temptation to take the kiss deeper made him dizzy. He forced himself to lift his head. Sucking in a deep breath, he tried to cool his blood.
She sketched a line of kisses down his throat, then moved back up, trailing her tongue along his skin. A shiver of desire raced down his spine. God! He fought the urge to lower her onto her back and take her right there on the sofa.
He started to lean away, to tell her he wanted to comfort her, not seduce her. But her mouth covered his again with such hunger that he realized seduction was the comfort she wanted. She needed to lose herself in physical pleasure so her mind would stop whirling.
Cupping the back of her head, he gave in to the desire to thrust his tongue into her mouth. She thrust back, meeting and licking. He felt her fingers pulling his tie loose, then working the buttons of his dress shirt in a frenzy. When her hands spread over his bare skin, he sucked in a breath as need seared him.
She pushed him back until he lay on the sofa, his dress shirt pulled from the suit trousers. She straddled his lap, still wearing the strapless blue cocktail dress. It bunched about her hips as she settled onto him, her warmth covering his growing erection.
As he watched, speechless, she lifted her arms and began unpinning her hair. Her eyes, now heavy with passion, never left his. It was the traces of red that still rimmed those eyes, however, that got to him. As much as his body ached to find release inside of hers, his heart yearned even more to give her whatever she needed.
As the last hairpin fell to the floor, she shook her head. Her thick, mahogany hair tumbled about her.
“God, you’re gorgeous,” he whispered and touched a finger to her mouth.
Closing her eyes, she parted her lips as he traced his finger downward, over her chin, down her throat, past her collarbone, to the point where bare skin met the blue fabric of her dress.
That touch, almost reverent, made Chloe shiver. All her fractured spaces filled with need. Her fear calmed as her body lit with desire. Opening her eyes, she stared down at Luc. Lying on the sofa with his dress shirt open to reveal his hard torso, his disheveled blond hair framing his face, gave him a dangerous air that filled her with hunger.
He smiled up at her with such heat, her breath caught. In the past, he’d always let her take the lead until she got him too worked up to hold back. Now, though, even though she sat on top of him, he looked like the aggressor.
One finger of his right hand slipped inside the neck of her dress, between her breasts, and gave a small tug.
“Off,” he commanded.
A thrill went through her as she reached behind her to pull down the zipper. Gathering up the yards of fabric, she pulled it over her head and sent the dress sailing to the floor. Since the dress had its own built in support, she’d worn nothing underneath but a pair of bikini panties. The cool air made her nipples go taut and his eyes dilated at the sight.
Her muscles quivered as his hands skimmed up her thighs and over her torso to cup the weight of her breasts. His thumbs tweaked the hard pebbles of her nipples and heat pooled instantly between her legs, where his shaft pressed against her.
When he tried to pull her down to him, however, she took his wrists and pressed them to the cushion on either side of his head.
He arched his brow, questioning.
“Let me,” she said in a needy voice. “Please.”
His eyes widened, then went heavy as she shifted to kneel between his legs. She kissed and licked a path down his throat and over his chest, where a growl rumbled against her lips. Then he inhaled sharply as she went lower, to the defined muscles of his abdomen. Teasing him with her tongue, she unbuckled his belt. His groan nearly drowned out the rasp of his zipper.
He lifted his hips to let her draw down his pants and boxers and she lowered them just enough to let his erection spring free.
His glorious length stood proudly before her, begging to be touched. She glanced up, saw the heat in his eyes, and flashed him a smile before lowering her mouth to him.
She lost herself in pleasuring him. This was what she needed. This raw, open desire. No pretenses, no promises. Just honest physical giving and taking.
Suddenly, his hands fisted in her hair.
“Enough,” he said, gasping for breath. “Condom.” He shifted to pull his wallet from his back pocket.
Chloe stood and pushed her panties down. By the time she straightened, he’d already kicked out of his pants and sheathed himself. She started to climb back on top of him, but he slipped to kneel on the floor.
“Come here,” he said, tugging down on her hand. When she knelt before him, he plowed his free hand into her hair, cupping the back of her head. His eyes glinted in the darkness. For once, though, when he turned commanding, she didn’t see Blade. She saw only Luc.
His mouth descended to take hers in a hard kiss. She thrilled at the demand. Breaking the kiss, he nudged her to turn and bent her over the coffee table. She barely had time to brace her weight on her forearms before his hands were sliding down her back, urging her to lower more, until her breasts pressed against the table. The cool surface hardened her nipples into aching peaks.
His hands slipped lower, over her bottom, squeezing and shaping. Then, one of his hands moved between her thighs. On a gasp, she flung her head back as he slipped a single finger into her wet passage.
Yes
, she thought,
yes
. This was what she needed. To surrender to a man she totally trusted with her body. She might never trust anyone with her heart, but with Luc, she felt safe to let go physically.
The thrill of that built inside her, into a tight ball low in her belly. She moaned, straining for that pinnacle of pleasure. She needed it so much, needed it to rip through her and shatter all the fear and longing that clawed at her heart for just a split second of blessed relief.
“Please,” she panted.
“I’ve got you, baby,” he said in a surprisingly tender voice. She felt his lips touch the small of her back in a soft kiss amidst the maelstrom of passion.
“I need—” was all she could get out, unable to express everything clamoring inside her.
“I know,” he said in a throaty rasp as he widened the gap between her knees with his own. Then his shaft pressed at her entrance.
She arched her back, pressing onto him as he eased inside. Slowly. Too slowly.
“More,” she pleaded.
And he gave her more. One of his hands moved around to pleasure her from the front as he thrust in and out of her with hard, demanding strokes. The ball of physical and emotional need increased until an orgasm tore through her. Feeling it, he gave in to his own need, thrusting hard, then holding himself deep inside her as he shuddered.
To her horror, even as her body shattered with pleasure, she broke into sobs. All the emotions she’d held locked up inside broke free. Her body heaved as she gasped for air, only to find she couldn’t breathe.
“Chloe? Chloe?” she heard Luc calling. “Hey, I’ve got you.”
She felt his arms going around her. Felt him pulling her into his lap as he moved to the sofa.
“Oh, God, I’m sorry.” He ran his hands over her, trying to soothe her. “Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head, managing to take in a shallow breath. He hadn’t hurt her. He’d just unlocked a Pandora’s box of emotion. Clinging to him, she cried with a gut-wrenching strength that threatened to tear her open.
“What did I do?” he asked, clearly panicked. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You didn’t,” she got out. “J-just h-hold me.”
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she let herself go for the first time in her life. No holding back. She let all the hurt well up from the very pit of her being and come out with bone-shaking anguish.
~ ~ ~
Staring up at the dark ceiling of his bedroom, Luc held Chloe in his arms. He’d carried her to his bed after her sobs subsided. Her steady breaths fanned over his chest; she wasn’t asleep, but she was no longer crying.
He thought he finally got her now. When it came down to it, she was simply a woman who wanted to be loved. Who wanted to find a place where she felt safe enough and accepted enough to belong. He understood that better than most people. He’d had a taste of how it felt to not fit in growing up, but nothing on the scale of what she’d lived with her whole life. He’d found his place when he created Vortal, but he realized the place he’d created wasn’t complete. Wouldn’t be complete without her.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said, tracing patterns on her back. “What if you don’t go back to Pearl Island?”
“What do you mean?” She lifted her head to look at him. “I have to go back. I have a flight tomorrow. Allison is expecting me to be back at work on Monday.”
“I know. I’m not talking about tomorrow.” He shifted toward her. “I’m talking about after that. What if you go back just long enough to deal with things, and then…” He took a deep breath. “What if you moved here?”
“You mean get a place here in New Orleans?” With the faint light coming through the door, he could see her frown.
“No, I mean, move in… here. With me.”
She stared at him in disbelief. His heart started to pound, but he pushed on.
“You’ve said you don’t have a home. That you’ve never had one.” He cupped her face. “This could be your home.”
“Vortal?” As she glanced about, he saw the glitter of interest in her eyes, but it faded to worry. “But… what would I do? You don’t need me. You have everything covered.”
“You don’t have to ‘do’ anything,” he said. “Just live here. With me. You can do whatever you want. Whatever makes you happy.”
“Whatever makes me happy,” she echoed as a frown dimpled her brow.
“What?” he asked, wondering what was going on in her head.
She sat up, holding the sheet to her. “Earlier tonight, Harold said my mother needs purpose to make her happy. When he said that, it was like a light shone down on the chaos that is my mother’s life, and it all made sense. Now I’m thinking the same is true for me. I’m happy at Pearl Island because I have a purpose there.”
“Working in the gift shop?” he asked, wanting to understand.
“I do more than that,” she said. Her expression shifted, as if some thought had just occurred to her. Something she’d never considered before.
“What?” he asked, as worried as he was curious.
She looked at him in obvious reluctance. “I don’t even want to say this, because it’s going to sound as if Allison and Aurora take advantage of me, and they don’t.”
“Just tell me.”
“I fill in anywhere and everywhere I can, from watching the kids to serving breakfast to pitching in with laundry. I’m buying my place there.”
“Surely you don’t think you have to buy their affection.” He came up on one elbow. When she just stared at him, he shook his head. “No, I absolutely don’t think that’s true. I don’t know them well, but I saw how they are with you. Those people are genuine.” Unlike her family here, who played all kinds of head games, he thought. “You don’t have to live on Pearl Island and run yourself ragged for those people to love you. They’re going to love you whether you’re there, or here, or living in Timbuktu.”
“But what would I do here?”
“Well, since you won’t have to pay rent, do whatever you want that gives you some spending money.”
“No, that’s not what I mean.” She shook her head. “I don’t need a job for the money. Now that I gave in to John’s demand and attended the party tonight, I’m reasonably sure I don’t have to worry about him yanking my trust fund. Unless the family fortune really is in danger. I mean, the trust fund is separate, but still…”
“Whoa, wait, back up.” He rubbed his forehead as he wrapped his brain around the fact that she didn’t need to work, like everyone else he knew. Of course she had a trust fund, though. She was John LeRoche’s granddaughter. He’d just never known someone who lived in that kind of reality. “Your grandfather threatened to pull your trust fund if you didn’t attend your mother’s engagement party? That’s why you went?”
“Yes, and no.” She sighed. “Yes, he made that threat, but no, that’s not why I went. I went for a whole long list of reasons that would probably take a psychiatrist to explain.”
“Do any of those reasons include it being the right thing to do for you?”
“Of course. I don’t know. Maybe?” She frowned. “If it helps Diane and me to have a decent relationship someday, then maybe it was the right thing to do for me.” She went silent for a moment, then looked at him. “Luc, are you absolutely sure your grandmother’s necklace doesn’t have the power to affect people’s fortune?”