The Recluse Heir by Monique Moreau

25

Ihad a dream. An amazing, beautiful dream. It started out as the usual nightmare that plagued my nights when I was anxious or upset. My father’s fingers wrapped around a man’s throat, his face turning red and then redder, sputtering out curses and pleas and choked breathes. His fingernails broke as he tore at my father’s hands.

Abruptly, the images shifted and morphed into something else. Into someone else.

The fingers of the dying man transformed into Luca’s strong fingers. They caressed the side of my face, leaving behind tingles. His fingertips ran down my throat, gentle yet teasing. Seeking, my hand reached up and I felt the silky glide of his locks as I coiled them between my fingers.

It was remarkable, the vividness of my dream. I even smelled his cologne. That unique mixture of cedar and spice was like the crisp air of a pine forest after a snowstorm, stillness surrounding you on all sides. It was imprinted in my brain like a tattoo.

God, I missed that scent. My hips worked beneath the sheet, twisting it between my legs, feeding the building pressure.

Alongside his tantalizing scent, I sensed a wall of warmth. Another phantom memory of Luca. I licked my dry lips. Hmmm, I shouldn’t have had that last glass of wine before I went to sleep. I was parched, craving more, but only one person could quench this scorching need.

My eyes pried themselves open, my vision fuzzy. I frowned at the wrinkly dark-blue tailored shirt dominating my vision. That shirt was familiar. My brows bunched together. What was this? Before I could follow my line of thought, warm, firm lips pressed against mine, distracting me. My tongue peeked out to taste. Luca’s flavor exploded on my tongue. I arched up, seeking more.

A hot, moist mouth covered mine. A tongue invaded. A moan broke free. I inhaled more of the spicy, woodsy scent. My body hummed, nerve endings snapping like live wires. The tongue came in again, thrusting harder and— Like the screech of a needle tearing up an LP record, my brain snapped into place.

I jolted awake.

Luca.

Ripping my mouth from his, I sucked in a much-needed breath as my gaze bounced around, taking in my surroundings.

This was no dream.

Luca was in my bedroom.

In my bed.

Kissing me.

I stammered, stumbling over my words as my mind tried playing catch-up. “W-what is— What are you doing here?”

His burning cold gray eyes pierced me.

“Does it matter?” he replied, leaning down to kiss me again.

I placed a hand on his chest, warding him off. “Of course, it does.”

I peered over his shoulder at my open windows. In the summer, when the city heat died down, I liked to sleep with the windows open. It had its potential dangers, but I figured no one would dare break into this house. We had cameras around the property. Although, clearly, they were useless in keeping Luca away.

My eyes returned to him, greedily drinking him in. There were shadows around his eyes. Tension at the corners of his gorgeous, sculpted lips. I let out a pained sigh. I had done this to him. I’d inflicted this agony on him. I peered closer. A profound sadness radiated from him. It didn’t match the righteous anger from the morning.

“What happened, Luca? Something must have happened for you to come here, to me of all people.”

His hand caressed my hair. “You’re so fucking smart, you know that? I watched as you took me in and processed everything until you came to that conclusion. You’re so damn perceptive it’s almost frightening.”

My heart stuttered in my chest. Of course, his praise had me preening with pride, even though I had no right to it. I was struck by an intense longing to touch him, to forget everything and snuggle into him, but I forced myself back. He was suffering and I wanted to comfort him. I yearned to reach for him, but something made me hesitate. I may have felt guilty but that didn’t mean I’d let him use my body willy-nilly. My heart was on the line and any touch between us had consequences for me.

His eyes cast down, he said, “I-I can’t talk about it.”

My heart cracked at the defeat in his posture and the despair in his voice. I placed a finger beneath his chin and lifted it until his eyes were on me. “Hey, don’t you dare. You better keep your head up around me.”

Staring deep into his eyes, I suggested, “Can we suspend time for a moment? Put aside what happened between us for tonight? I swear that whatever you tell me will stay between us. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but it doesn’t change the fact that I love you, Luca. I can’t change the past, but I’d do anything to make it up to you.”

He made a choked sound, his eyes averted for an instant before returning to mine and holding. I pleaded with him with my eyes, begging him to believe that I would never betray him again.

After a few long moments of tension, he took my hand and pressed a kiss to each knuckle. “I can’t. It’s not only my secret to tell.”

“Then tell me something. Tell me enough,” I begged. Enough so that I could help.

“After you left, I had it out with my brothers about my father. I found out something unbelievable.” He gave a mirthless laugh. “Today, yours wasn’t the only betrayal. But in the end, I found out the truth.” His eyes got a faraway look. “It explains so much,” he replied cryptically. “In that way, I guess it’s good.”

“Okaaay,” I said, squeezing his hand to continue.

“That’s all I can say.”

It had to do with his father. Nothing else could get him this much off his game, not even our breakup.

“Our fathers are not good people. It’s a shock when we find out exactly what their true nature is,” I said, leaning more on guesswork than anything.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. “That’s for fucking sure. I had to get away from them. I roamed around half the night until I found myself here.”

The cinched feeling in my chest tightened further, and tears pricked the corners of my eyes. The fact that he made his way to me, despite what happened, was humbling and broke my heart all over again. I’d lost this beautiful, imperfect man.

I discreetly swiped at my eyes and cleared my throat. “Do they know where you are?”

He shook his head. “I dumped my phone. Each of our phones have trackers in case something happens to us. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, and I knew they’d blow it up.”

“Not even Tatum?”

“Not even him,” he replied with a heavy sigh. “I needed space away from them to think.”

I glanced at my digital clock. It was past one o’clock in the morning. Luca was in a bad way if he’d purposely abandoned his phone and avoided everyone for hours. I bet his family was beside themselves with worry.

His fingers trailed down the front of my chest to cup me between the legs. “I need you. I need to taste you, Kitty.”

His eyes were stark. Desperate. He couldn’t tell me his secret, fearing that I’d use it against him. It had been thoughtless to assume that I could convince him otherwise. I swallowed around the lump in my throat. If this had happened last night, he would’ve told me, whether the secret was his or not. But we were not yesterday anymore.

I was faced with a choice.

Do I comfort him?

If Luca was hurting, I’d always be there to comfort him. It was selfish on my part because it comforted me as well. With my marriage to Simu, this would likely be the last time I’d be touched like this again.

Heart banging against my chest, I stroked his cheek down along his angled jaw.

I inched closer until our chests brushed and our breaths mingled.

Caressing my lips against his, I whispered, “Yes.”

He ran his knuckles over my stiff nipple, catching it between two knuckles. I gasped and he took control of my mouth. From there, it was a whirlwind of rash, brusque movements. I ripped at the buttons of his shirt until it gaped open, while he tore at my nightie until it was puddled at my feet. He licked his way down my throat, murmuring about how good I tasted, how creamy my skin was, until his mouth was too occupied with one of my breasts to continue.

My hands landed on his head, holding him in place as he suckled one nipple while plucking the other one. Biting down, the edge of his teeth dragged off my nipple with a hard pop that had me crying out over his head.

He growled, “Fucking delicious. I’m going to fuck you till you’re sweaty, sore, and begging me to stop.”

His eyes snapped with cold blue-gray flames. Determined. Dominant. Possessive. Everything I loved about this man. He gripped my silk panties, twisted, and tore them right off me with a loud riiip. Pressing my thighs open for his perusal, he explored, teased my clit, and spread my slickness everywhere.

Standing up, he took his fingers off my pussy just long enough to tear off his wrinkled shirt, sporting streaks of dirt from rock climbing the side of my house. My eyes raked his naked form, from his broad shoulders down his washboard abs to the hard beast between his legs. A large patch over the opposite shoulder of his Lupu tat distracted me from the main attraction.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“I got another tat,” he muttered.

Another tat?It was a well-known fact that the Lupu men only sported one tat on their chests, a green-eyed wolf head. Anywhere else was open season, but the chest was sacred, and the new tat was a big one at that.

Oh boy. A break in protocol like that was a scream for help.

“Come here,” I coaxed, crooking my finger at him.

His eyes blazed as they scoured down my body. Feeling shy, I bent my legs and tucked them into my chest.

Stepping to me, he placed a hand on my knee and splayed my thighs open.

“Don’t hide from me,” he warned, as he settled in between my legs. Eyes locked on mine, he shimmied down my torso until his mouth hovered right above my spread pussy. Like a snake, his tongue flicked out and tapped my clit. My lower torso bucked off the bed, banging into him. Eyes on me, he opened those beautiful, sculpted lips and mouthed my mound. Holy shit. His tongue came out to play and every nerve ending was thrumming with high-voltage energy.

I fisted the sheets as he gorged himself on me. With a firm hold on my thighs, he held me down as he licked and sucked. Completely attuned to my reactions, his tongue moved with me, pulling back when he sensed it was too much, going deeper when he knew I could handle it. He played me like an instrument, bringing me to the edge again and again. I was hit with a pang of jealousy at the thought of how many times it took him to become such an expert.

As he fucked me with his mouth, he began humming. Vibrations undulated through my pussy. Lifting myself onto my elbows, I stared over the expanse of his broad back down the length of his spine. His back muscles shifted like water rippling over sand as it retreated to sea. I fixated on the dimples in his perfect, tight ass, moving as he humped the mattress. Two fingers pumped inside me to partner with his tongue circling my clit.

Oh, God. So good.

I released the sheet bunched in my fists and clawed at his shoulders. Panting, I licked the salt from my lips. But something was missing…I needed more of him.

“I need more,” I croaked.

His head shot up, eyes on fire. “What do you need?”

“I-I don’t know…I need to taste you.” I threw caution to the wind and admitted, “I want your cock. In my mouth.”

His lips spread and tilted upward in a wicked feline grin. Hands on my hips, he dragged me down and positioned us on our sides until his long cock waved in my face, his testicles bumping beneath my chin.

“Open wide,” he ordered, and the instant I did, he pushed between my parted lips. My eyes fluttered shut, and I moaned at the musky taste of him. Enveloped by that drugging spice-and-wood fragrance, his hot flesh thrust between my lips. Then I felt his moist breath back on my pussy.

This was it. This was what was missing. I loved the taste of him, the sensation of silky, smooth skin gliding over hard, uncompromising steel.

I gave him a little bit of teeth, the way I knew he liked it, and was gratified to hear his hiss of pleasure.

“You’ve got some dirty in you, don’t you, girlie?” he murmured. His fingers returned to my pussy, sinking into my sopping wetness in a commanding thrust. Arching my back, I bucked as he pushed his cock further inside my mouth, his thick girth lying against the flat of my tongue.

My throat stuffed full, I switched to breathing through my nostrils. Just in time, because his next thrust breached the back of my throat, and I gagged. He pulled free long enough for me to catch my breath, and then he was back. The rhythm of his fingers in my pussy sped up along with the thrusts of his cock, until it was one relentless, endless loop of building pleasure.

Eventually, he did something with his tongue—not sure what because I was too busy focusing on his shaft—that took me by surprise. Abruptly, I was thrown over the edge and came hard. I screamed around his cock. Rubbing his face into my pussy, I was tossed in a riptide so intense the muscles of my abdomen clenched. Whatever tension coiled inside me exploded into mind-blowing rapture.

I must have been struggling to breathe because he pulled out. I heaved in deep breaths, staring as he sat up, his face coated in my essence, and pumped his shaft until semen sprayed across my face, throat, and chest.

I licked around my mouth, catching his seed and humming. He prowled up my body, giving me a brutal kiss, before lying beside me and tucking me into his body. Sweaty and sore, just as he’d promised, I felt myself dozing off. I was addicted to the feel of his body covering mine during the night. I woke up only once to him spoon fucking me, but the rest of the time, I luxuriated in his encompassing embrace.

By the time I woke up, the bright sunlight streaming over my bed revealed that he was gone. A baseball cap on the round side table by my reading spot was the only proof that it hadn’t all been a dream.