“Fuck,” I plead as Lucia pulls my mouth to meet hers, our tongues waging a battle we know we both will win even if we lose. When my climax threatens to take hold, I drop my hand between our bodies to drive her there. But she needs no help, her fingernails digging into my shoulders as she cries out her release, her screams echoing throughout the house, surrounding us just as I shout out her name in reckless abandon.
Dropping my mouth to her neck, I slowly glide my cock in and out of her, relishing in the afterglow of one of the most baring sexual experiences of my life.
I laid myself open for her and she welcomed it. Needed it. Needed me.
“I love you, Callum Alexander. Every part of you. The real you. This version of you.”
With her words, she rips apart another piece of my mask, my constant companion, the self-protection mechanism that has kept my secrets safe for so long.
She’s done this to me, chipping away at it with every moment we’ve spent together. It’s her smile, her laughter, and her pushing and driving me to be who I truly am not what the world expects me to be.
I lean up on one elbow, taking in her flushed cheeks, swollen lips and mussed hair. Looking into her eyes, I see nothing but sated devotion reflected back at me. Cupping her cheek with my hand, I dip my head and rest my lips against hers.
“I love you, too,” I murmur, uttering the words I have never said to another lover. Then I kiss her gently, slowly savoring every minute.
A woman like Lucia deserves the man I was raised to be, the man I’ve worked hard to become, the man the world knows and wants to be. The only risk is taking that next step with her. The last step that I’m dreading.
I have a deep-seated fear about allowing her to see my darkest demon, a desire so taboo and dangerous that if she knew she’d likely brand me as the depraved deviant that I am.
I can only hope that Lucia believes in us and trusts me enough to see past my aberrant fantasy if it was ever to come to light.
Because losing Lucia now is not an option.
I’ll stamp out the craving, push back the desire, and bury that undiscovered part of myself. I’ve done it for the past fifteen years—what are fifty more? My fixation, borne out of fascination, curated by time and maturity, would be all but forgotten if it came down to a choice between it and her. There’s no contest. No consideration required.
It’s an unmatched sacrifice that wouldn’t score my soul if it meant having her.
What we have together, what we’ve just done and everything that is building between us is worth protecting, worth holding close. Not even the most carnal of cravings could ever come close to the craving that I have for Lucia.
![Crave _9.jpg](https://litlife.club/books/267865/read/images/_9.jpg)
Not once in my sixteen years as an independent adult have I purposely met the family of a woman I was involved with. That meant ties and emotions, distractions and complications, and until Lucia, I had neither the time nor inclination for any of that. But for Lucia, a woman who is one of the most important features in my life, I would give her the world.
Therefore, as Lucia and I make our way to her restaurant in the back of one of the town cars we booked for all of the staff attending tonight’s celebration, I consider what the night will bring.
“You’re very contemplative tonight. What is going through that amazingly complicated but dashingly handsome head of yours?” Luce asks me, her hand gently squeezing mine in her lap.
Turning to face her, I lift her hand to my lips and place a soft kiss on her knuckles. “I’ve never wanted to meet the family of a woman I’m involved with before.”
She grins up at me with eyes full of amusement before advising, “I’ve already given my brother a stern talking to. He’s not allowed to pull any of the big brother protective alpha bullshit in front of your staff.”
“That’s comforting,” I say dryly.
“How do you think I feel? Your family will be there, too. Am I the first woman to meet them?”
Looking down at our entwined hands again, I slowly stroke my thumb up and down her skin. “You know you are,” I say gently.
“Are you nervous about that too?” The question brings my gaze back up to hers.
“They know about you. They saw the photo of us at the ball game and when I talked to Mom yesterday, she was very excited to meet the woman who has, in her words, ‘unraveled me.’”
Hearing that, she starts giggling. “Good to know I’ve had a positive effect on you.”
“You’ve had an unimaginable and completely unexpected effect on me, Lucia Harding, and I, for one, have never been happier about taking a drink from a server before.”
“Well, such a fateful happenstance should be celebrated,” she says softly, lifting her chin and leaning in toward me. Not missing the implication, I brush my lips against hers once, twice, then I inch my tongue inside her welcoming mouth, pouring my appreciation, my adoration, and my love into moment.
“I agree,” I say, pulling away and smiling at her.
“An Alexander smile—a rare and highly sought-after occurrence. One could almost contemplate documenting this moment.”
“Hmm, you might be right about that,” I muse.
“I like it when you smile. Then I know you’re happy about something.”
“I have a lot to be happy about right now.” I kiss her again, a soft touching of my lips to hers, full of unspoken meaning.
“We’re here,” she says, as I pull away.
I look over her shoulder to see that we are in fact outside the restaurant. I give her a quick peck on the lips. “Wait here. I must play the gentleman in front of my mother.”
“You’re always a gentleman.”
“And you’re always beautiful.” One last kiss and my door is opened, the driver holding it wide as I step out onto the sidewalk. Turning with my arm outstretched, I grip Lucia’s hand the moment she places it in mine and help her out of the car.
A not overly surprising but nonetheless irritating camera flash snaps me out of my good mood, the few hours at home with Lucia having successfully wiped the aggravation of the press conference from my short-term memory.
“Lucia! This way. Callum!”
“Lucia, how does it feel to be on the arm of the city’s most eligible bachelor?”
“Any comment on Carmen Dallas’s accusations of a cover-up?”
Every question is like an ice pick to my soul, souring my jovial, relaxed mood. With a body wound tight, I quickly put my hand at the small of Lucia’s back and hurry her forward through the front door that Grant is now holding open. “Never been more grateful for the front window blinds,” Lucia mutters under her breath.
“Pack of animals. They’ve been here for an hour at least,” Grant states as he takes Lucia’s jacket and leans in to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Lucia, wonderful to see that you are indeed still able to walk straight.”
She snickers as I growl at him. He looks at me, and smirks, knowing exactly what he’s doing and that he’ll get away with it because he’s Grant, and that’s what he does.
“Is everyone here?” I ask, looking around the room.
“You guys are the last to arrive. Fashionably late?” he asks, with a raised brow.
“Something like that.” I don’t miss Lucia’s knowing grin.
“Are we doing speeches or do you think your slaying of the Dallas Dragon today will suffice?” Grant says.
I sigh loudly. “I wouldn’t bet on it. Any backlash so far?”
“Considering Annie called me three times because the phone system was overloading, you could say that. However I think it’ll be a good idea to issue a press statement on Monday to explain exactly what happened and why.”
“I agree.”
Lucia moves between us, a hand on each of our shoulders. “Boys, we’re not here to talk business all night. I have a protective brother to placate, and Callum’s parents to charm.”