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“Difficult.”
“I should’ve been there for you,” he tells me, casting a glance over his shoulder to see me staring at him like I’ve always done. His smooth, tanned skin against the dim light makes him look like a dark angel, fallen from the heavens to tempt me into sin. A strong, rigid jawbone, deep, steel-blue eyes, dark hair, black as night, with brows that only serve to make him more alluring than he already is.
Adrien is over six-feet tall, broad and muscled. I know this because I’ve seen him without his expensive shirts on. His body rippled, chiseled as if from marble, a statue of perfection, just like Julien.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t stand by your side as we laid him to rest.” The guilt hangs in his voice. It’s heavy, stifling, threatening to choke me.
Shaking my head, I take two tentative steps toward him. With each movement I get closer, feeling the heat from him, needing it to cocoon me like it used to when I was younger. When I was the one begging him to keep me safe.
“He deserved what came to him,” I tell him then. “We learned truths about him that broke the family. We believed we did something wrong all those years ago, but, we didn’t.”
“What do you mean?” This intrigues me because I was sent away because of our parents.
He shakes his head, then sighs before he says, “There is no DNA link between us—me and Julien. Our father wanted to rule over us, to break us down, and to make us his slaves.”
“Yes, he was a tyrant.” He affirms what we all know. “And the lawyer hasn’t been in touch with you regarding the ownership, the crown?”
“No, and I don’t think you called me here to talk about it. Did you? I would’ve thought you invited me to come here and tell you how much I’ve missed you.”
He rises, buttoning his suit jacket, stalking toward me with purpose, causing me to step backward until my body is flush against the cool window behind me. He places a hand beside my head. His head dips to mine, and our mouths are close. Far too close.
The heat of him emanates like his spicy cologne. His eyes glower with ferocious hunger. It burns in them like a fire. Pure. Unadulterated. Lust.
“What would you do if I kissed you right now?” His question causes my heart rate to kick up a notch. Desire skitters over my skin, causing goose bumps to rise in their wake.
“I would kick you, on the shins, then I’d?—”
He presses his finger on my lips to quiet me, and I close my eyes, and the feel of his body pressing against mine from chest to thigh is enough to have me whimpering against the lonely digit that holds my lips shut. I can feel him—hard and unrelenting.
His mouth crashes down on mine suddenly. His hands are in my long, raven-black hair, tugging me closer. Impossibly so because it feels as if I’m about to climb inside him.
His body moves against mine, and soon we fit together like puzzle pieces. I turn molten at his insistent tongue dipping between my lips. He doesn’t relent. He fights for my mouth to open, and I offer it to him.
I can no longer deny him.
His taste—sweet, sharp, and intoxicating—makes for a heady flavor as I lick into his warmth. We dance like lovers. But we’re not. We can never be. However, when his hand finds purchase on my ass, lifting me against him, my legs wrap around his waist without question.
His cock, hard and demanding, pulses against my core—it wants entrance into my body. Like he wanted all those years ago. And I want to give it to him, to sacrifice myself to his need, to our lust.
His teeth nip at my bottom lip, tugging it and suckling on it, making me whimper with want. “Please,” I mumble into his mouth. His breath is mine, intermingling like the forbidden way I’m draped over him.
“You still want this,” he tells me, rolling his hips, causing my back to arch. I do. I’m broken. I’m so fucked-up, because even though I spent years without him, I still desire him.
“And you want this,” I tell him, suckling on his neck, biting the flesh hard enough to cause a bruise, and I smile when he hisses at the motion.
Then he finally says the words I’ve been needing to hear since I saw him in the bar. “I do, my dear. I do indeed, dear Gattina.”
Chapter 4
Adrien
Even if I wanted to stop right now, I couldn’t because she’s finally in my arms. There isn’t a place I would rather be. And I know the moment Julien walks into this room, his desire will be ablaze, just as mine is.
Her mouth is warm, delicate like a flower opening in the springtime. She’s pliable in my hands, and I grip her hips hard, digging my fingers into her curves until I hear that mewl that’s music to my ears.
I don’t stop the assault, my tongue delving into her warmth, tasting her as she tangles her hands in my hair. We’re both older now, matured, but there’s a rush of lust that course through my veins, and I have a feeling it’s racing through her as well.
My hands move lower, until I grip her ass, and I tug her closer. We’re molded to each other, there’s no beginning or ending. The image that springs to mind only seems to make my cock harder. The idea of me, Julien, and Alessia all together like we always should have been.
