The Surrender: Falling In Part 15

"Yes. I do."

"Liar."

He was unbearable. Challenging him was like swimming upstream in a lead vest. She simply didn't have the energy. Her body slackened. "I don't understand you."

"I'm very complicated," he whispered almost humorously.

"You're beyond complicated. I've never met anyone as frustrating as you. You can't expect me to be what you want if you constantly change your expectations."

"I told you what I want."

She scoffed. "You told me to be on time, dress appropriately, provide company, and stay away from lower Folsom. Other than that I'm flying blind."

The corner of his mouth quirked up. "Don't go."

"Why should I stay?"

"Because you like me."

She did like him, the big jerk. The jury was still out on whether or not that was a good thing, but that didn't make it any less true. She liked the way he made her laugh and distracted her from all the terrible things she was used to coping with, but at the same time he somehow had the ability to make her feel terrible about herself. She never second-guessed herself until she was around Lucian.

"This isn't going to work."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know what it is you want!"

He suddenly pulled away and dragged her toward the bed. He sat down and tugged her until she sat beside him. He wouldn't let go of her hand.

"I'm f.u.c.ked-up, Evelyn. I need to have things a certain way and if I'm ever going to care about someone again I need to know I have complete control."

"Again?"

"Yes. Again. I don't usually share my past with others and I don't intend on changing. Suffice it to say I lost someone very important to me once and she'd still be here if she had listened to me and done as I said."

"Lucian, you can't control everything. What good would it be to have a relations.h.i.+p with someone who's had every bit of individuality stripped from them?"

"I want you to be an individual. That's not what I'm saying."

"Then explain to me what it is you want," she said, truly wanting to understand.

"I want your submission."

"My submission?"

"Yes. I want to possess you in a way no one else can or will. I want to own your body and I want you to surrender it to me willingly. I want to be able to spoil you and treat you, all in return for the comfort of knowing you'll be there waiting at the end of my day. I want to take care of you, but I also want you to take care of my needs in a way no one else can. I want you to trust me, Evelyn, to make the right choices for you."

She swallowed and tried to find her voice. That was a whole lot of expectations.

"Why me?"

"Because I like you. You're feisty, but also a natural submissive-"

She knew what submissive meant. And she wasn't that. She'd been running her own life since she could walk. "Lucian, I am not submissive. You have no idea what I'm like outside of your world."

"But you are, Evelyn. I recognized it the first time I saw you at my desk. You don't even have to try, and when you do surrender to my will, you do so with absolute grace."

She shook her head, her gaze climbing over the enormous stack of boxes at the wall. "I don't know you well enough to trust you that way. I don't trust anyone."

"Give it time. I promise I'll never do anything that puts you in danger. I'm a good protector, Evelyn, of that I'm certain."

If only he realized how much she wanted a protector, how badly she wanted to agree to everything he proposed. In time, if she could give Lucian what he needed, he could help her save Pearl and maybe even help Parker get back on his feet.

But the emotional surrender he was looking for wasn't something she could command. It was a useless negotiation chip because she had no control over her trust for others. It either existed or didn't. And all of her life, with every person she ever allowed herself to get mildly close to, it never had existed. Maybe she wasn't capable of such complete trust. Maybe she could fake it, use willpower to agree to the things he wanted no matter how it tore her up inside. If it wasn't real, then she wouldn't lose her head like some romantic fool. She'd know exactly what she was agreeing to at all times.

"Lucian, what you said in the limo about telling you no-"

"In bed. I do not accept being told no in bed," he clarified.

"But what if you do something I don't like."

"I'd never hurt you, Evelyn."

She rubbed her head wearily. "Physically maybe, but you can't take away my right to say no. I could never submit to that level. I just don't have it in me."

"Then we'll have a safe word."

"A what?"

His gaze grew hopeful, his eyes softening further, a hint of color returning to his face. "A safe word. A word you wouldn't normally say in intimate situations. You say that and everything stops. It'll be your ticket to end our contract. Game over. All you have to do is breathe it and I'll let you go."

Everything was always so final with him. He didn't have gears. There was no slowdown or reverse. It was full steam ahead or nothing.

Scout thought about what he said. She wasn't sure what had happened in his past to make control such an unbending need of his. For some reason it made sense that Lucian would perform best in that sort of dynamic. The question was, could she?

Resigned, she knew she couldn't just walk away at this point. She'd never forgive herself for turning down the opportunities he offered just because she was too afraid to try. It was s.e.x. s.e.x was physical. She could do that, surrender her body, but hold tight to her emotions.

She also couldn't deny that he piqued certain unknown appet.i.tes. When Lucian kissed her, things happened. She was curious what else there was, what else he could make her feel. So long as she kept her mind grounded in the physical and avoided the emotional, she should be able to do this.

Sighing, she asked, "What would the word be?"

His smile was a true expression of deep satisfaction. It spread over his face slow and beautiful like a sunrise, chasing away the darkness. "That, my dear, is your choice."

The perfect word skated off her tongue before she even realized she had chosen it. "Checkmate."

Chapter 15.

Trust Lucian carried a bag of Scout's personal items onto the elevator as she held her housekeeping uniform. "I need to use your iron when we get upstairs. This is horribly wrinkled."

"I'll have someone come pick it up for dry-cleaning."

She grimaced. "You're not sending out my housekeeping uniform for someone from housekeeping to clean. That's ridiculous. It can't be that difficult to iron."

He shrugged as they stepped off. "Never tried."

Weren't they a pair? He placed her bag on a chair in the seating area and flipped through a pile of mail on his desk. Scout scrutinized her uniform and brushed over some of the creases.

"You know I could have another one delivered for you, but I'm not going to do that because you know how I feel about you working in the first place."

Great. This again.

"If you don't want me working at Patras, I'll go get a job somewhere else."

Tossing the mail back on the messy desk, he took the uniform out of her hands and hung it from a sconce on the wall. He turned her until she was facing him. "I don't want you to work at all. I can provide everything you need."

"Lucian, that isn't practical. I need spending money."

"Why do you need money?"

She rolled her eyes and countered, "Why do you?"

"So that I can take care of you."

"Smart-a.s.s." She carried her bag into the guest room and set her black shoes out for the morning after she unloaded her toiletries.

"Seriously, Evelyn, if you need money I'll give it to you. Just tell me how much you need." He gathered up her cosmetic bag and carried it into the master bath. He returned and picked up her sneakers and carried them into the master bedroom.

"What are you doing?" she finally asked when he picked up her bag.

"What are you doing? I told you where you were sleeping. My bed's that way."

Okay, then.

After she unpacked her minimal amount of belongings and discovered ironing was not difficult, but a pain in the a.s.s, they sat at the small dining area in the corner and had dinner. Lucian ordered almond-crusted fish with rice and green vegetables. It was delicious.

The closer their meal drew to an end, the more reality seeped in. She was going to have s.e.x with Lucian Patras. Tonight.

The thought was too surreal for Scout to actually form any kind of anxiety over. Curiosity kept her moving forward. The minutes ticked by and she figured she'd better just go with it. She did need to shower though.

When she came out of the bathroom, the master bedroom was empty. She smiled when she noticed a long black nightgown lying on the turned-down bed. Lucian must've run down to her room and brought the silk gown back.

Scout untied the towel around her head, glad she decided not to get her hair wet again. Sleeping on wet pillows sucked. She'd done that too many times in her life after using the facilities at the shelter just before curfew. After quietly shutting the door, she removed her robe and picked up the gown. It whispered over her skin like a delicious secret.

She hung the robe and waited. What now? Looking at the bed, she debated climbing in there and waiting for Lucian. The penthouse was set in dim lighting and bathed in silence.

Creeping past the door to the master bedroom on bare feet, she saw Lucian sitting at his desk. He was again wearing black silk pants. The sight of him in those pants with reading gla.s.ses low on his nose as he made notes inside a book made her smirk. They matched.

She cleared her throat and he looked up, definitely taking his attention away from whatever he was doing. He leaned back in his chair and she sauntered over to him. Taking her hand, he silently directed her to turn for him. His hands caught her hips and stilled her once she completed a full revolution.

Hands so large they spanned her waist, his thumbs dragged over the soft black silk covering her belly, causing sleek ripples. She removed his gla.s.ses and peeked through them before gently placing them on the cluttered desk.

They simply stared at each other for a moment, and then she leaned in and pressed her lips to his. He drew a deep breath through his nose and pulled her closer as his lips slanted over hers. She gasped into his mouth as he stood and lifted her with him.

The black gown gathered around her thighs. She wrapped her legs around his hips as he carried her to the master bedroom. He possessed such capable strength both physically and emotionally. The cool wall pressed into her back and she arched, pressing her front into his. His skin was so warm it practically burned her exposed flesh.

While one hand glided up her back, his other palm cupped her bottom. His mouth twisted and worked over hers and she found herself drowning in everything Lucian. He smelled delicious. Her cheeks burned from where his five-o'clock shadow rasped against her softer skin.

They twirled, and he was moving again. Scout's arms wrapped tightly around his neck and broad shoulders, pulling her higher and tighter against his front. His tongue stole into her mouth and owned her. He took and she gave. In those minutes, the way he made her feel, he was like a drug. She wanted to give him everything. She would sell her soul if it meant the difference between his continuing and stopping. She wanted him in her, on her, running through her veins, heating her blood.

The sensation of falling took over, and she was suddenly coc.o.o.ned in softness. Cool satin sheets slid across her back. She slid every which way he pulled her. His hot mouth sucked at the tender flesh of her neck below her ear as he settled on top of her. Nerves along her spine came alive and sang as his breath washed over her sensitized skin.

The straps of her gown were yanked over her shoulders, the slick material twisting at her belly. When the cool air caressed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, her nipples puckered. Lucian's wet mouth drew upon the tips masterfully. Her body lifted into him wanting more, more, more.

"My G.o.d, I need to be inside of you," he whispered over her skin.

The bulk of his body filled the s.p.a.ce between her legs. The warm muscles of his thighs pressed into hers and she realized he was no longer wearing pants. His fingers wrestled with the long nightgown wrapped around her knees and thighs, pus.h.i.+ng it out of the way.

Need doubled inside of her. His hips came down into the cradle of her s.e.x, and she felt him. Her body adjusted to accommodate the breadth of his hips. He was hard and smooth, hot. It would be soon. Her body wept for him. His hands were everywhere. He owned her then, took and gave pleasure unendingly.

Scout arched and moaned as he plumped her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and sucked hard. His hand worked lower over her body, a steady touch, caressing, kneading, never letting go. An ache formed in the pit of her belly. She could only describe it as need. A different kind of hunger than what she was used to.

His long fingers coasted over her dewy folds, and then he was probing. The intrusion was unexpected and awkward, but she didn't want him to stop. She waited for her body to adjust to the unfamiliar touch. His touch penetrated and sunk into her. She stifled a grunt of shock. It wasn't what she expected, but he was moving again before she had time to process.

His finger slipped in and out of her. Everything was slick and damp. She was being stretched and her body constricted over him. He was thicker now. She thought it was only his hand but worried she had somehow missed something. His touch became hurried. She couldn't stop the small noises that escaped her throat.

"I have to have you, Evelyn. I'm sorry, I can't wait any longer."

Cool air blanketed her and the absence of his weight struck her like a layer of flesh being ripped away. A drawer opened and slammed and he was back. The soft sound of foil tearing met her ears, and then he was nudging her knees wide, wider than before. Her hips stretched and he fit himself against her s.e.x.

The sensation of flesh on flesh was interrupted by glossy latex. He separated her folds, and her mind retracted as he breached her opening. It was definitely his fingers before, because this was much larger.

"You're so tight," he whispered as he slowly rocked his hips.

Her mind had become too alert. Her arousal waned and she wanted him to bring it back. He softly grunted as he made shallow dips, poking her tender insides. Burning. A different kind. Nothing like the inner heat he stirred inside of her. This was a fire that blazed from the outside in. Nothing pleasant about it.

Friction built, detracting from the memory of the smooth glide they'd enjoyed only moments ago. Her temples grew damp with perspiration as he pressed in, burning her opening and stretching her painfully.

Scout bit her lip and when he thrust hard she whimpered. Her body stiffened like a corpse as he breathed into her shoulder.

"Jesus, Evelyn, just give me a minute . . ."

Tears leaked from the corner of her eyes and her mouth opened, but her sob was silent, trapped in her throat. She pressed her eyes shut and tried to pretend she was somewhere else.