Page 144 of Love Unspoken

He was saying all the right things. I knew he wasn't being flippant. Lucas was a thoughtful man. He hadn't chased me down when I first left because he hadn't been sure of his feelings. But now he was, and he was here, begging me to not send him away, promising me the world.

"Your mother?" I had to know.

"Can go fuck herself," he said and shocked me. I'd never heard him say a single bad thing about his mother or even his sister. He'd admit they could be difficult at times, but he always found a way to make excuses for them.

I could send him away. Of course I could. He'd leave eventually. He'd keep trying for a while, but then he'd give up. He'd have to. No one could keep putting themselves through rejection forever.

But where would that leave me?

I still loved him. And he was telling me he loved me, too. I believed him, because Lucas didn't say things he didn't mean. In the two years we'd been together, he'd told me I was beautiful, that he cared about me, that he was crazy for me—but he'd never said he loved me.

I'd been a fool to move in with him without hearing those words. But I'd been so madly in love, I'd leapt without thinking.

But I'd grown up since then. I didn't take those risks anymore. We'd go slow this time. No moving in. No building a life together until we both were certain.

However, I'd give him comfort and take the same from him.

"Come to bed," I said softly. He smiled then. "Thank you, Tesoro."

I was nervous as I took him to my bedroom. He'd never been here before. No other man had, except maybe the bedframe and mattress delivery guys.

I filled the bedroom with warm colors. A lot of rust and yellow because I needed solace. I was a moody decorator—and our bedroom in the townhouse had been more masculine so Lucas would be comfortable, and the artwork had been bolder, more colorful. When we'd moved in together, I'd been happy, and that showed in the colors I chose. When I'd set up this bedroom I'd been thinking about healing.

"You always make everything feel like home," he whispered, looking around. He then closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. "You smell the same, Tesoro." He opened his eyes and smiled at me. "You smell like you're mine."

Say what you may about caveman behavior—in the bedroom, it seriously worked for me.

Lucas pulled me into his arms and kissed me. Finally, kissed me. It was brutally erotic in its softness. A part of me had thought when we got together again, we'd devour each other, but I realized neither of us wanted that. We both wanted to savor. It had been so long since we'd touched, and suddenly, the thought of rushing it seemed vulgar.

As he kissed me, he walked us toward the bed.

My back hit the mattress, and then he settled himself on top. His lips met mine again, and he ran his hands up and down my sides as if re-learning my contours.

He pulled back and looked into my eyes. "You want this?"

A part of me wanted to scream, yes, another part wanted to scream, oh god, yes.

"I do."

"I love you." There was such sincerity and honesty in his voice that it undid me.

It used to be so easy to say the words to him, but now they were stuck in my throat. My eyes filled with tears, and he shook his head. "No, Tesoro, no. Don't be sad. We have all the time in the world. I'll gain your trust. I'll show you how precious you are to me."

He placed his lips back on mine. This time, his kisses were deep, drugging, and slowly, the heat between us became more. A tiny part of me wanted to push him away, but he felt so right, and this felt so good that I asked that small part to take a break for the night so I could be with the man I loved without worrying about how weak and pathetic I was.

"No, baby, get out of your head." He nuzzled below my ear, which he knew was an erogenous spot that made me mewl in pleasure.

I wrapped my arms around him and got lost in his touch, his kiss. His tongue dueled with mine, and when his hand ran up my body to cup a breast, it was almost a relief because I ached for him. His fingers found my hardened nipple, and he squeezed in that way he knew I liked. I felt heat pool between my legs where he lay hard. I moved my hips without thinking, and he groaned into my mouth.

He continued to kiss me, only breaking long enough to help me get my tank top off. He looked at my breasts with lust, like he used to, and I melted under his reverent gaze.

He took a nipple in his mouth and suckled. "Fuck, Amara. You taste so fucking good."

My fingers delved into his hair, pulling his head close, increasing the pressure on my nipples.

"Lucas," I whimpered when he bit me gently.

He raised his head. His eyes were drowsy, aroused. He stood up, and as he watched me, he kicked off his shoes. He took his shirt off. The intensity of his gaze made me feel luxurious. He was all mine right now, like he always was when we were together, when it was just us.