Page 88 of Cracked Ice (The F*cked Up Players #1)

“When I was around eight years old or so, my dad dated this woman with a kid, a boy named Kenny.” Lucien snorts at the name, but lets me continue.

“It wasn’t his real name, but it’s what I called him.

His real one was something dumb and Kenny was easier to say.

” I wave him off. “You’d think I would hate the idea of a stepbrother, but there was something about him that I naturally felt connected to.

As far as I was concerned, he was a part of our family and for those two years we were together I thought we were, but .

. .” My shoulders slump and I reach for the glass of water on the coffee table.

“But what?” Lucien asks.

I play with the rim of the glass, rubbing my thumb back and forth.

“But over time, he stopped playing with me. He only ever wanted to spend time with my dad or his friends. It was like I stopped existing. Then his older brother came back home, who I guess my dad didn’t know about, and it caused this whole big uproar.

It tore a rift between Kenny’s mom and my dad.

Kenny stopped speaking to me altogether after that and then my dad’s business went belly-up.

It was one of his first big business ventures and it blew up in smoke—literally.

It caught fire and he lost everything, including his relationship and our little makeshift family.

I never saw Kenny or his family again after that. ”

“Wow. Do you miss them?” Lucien asks, handing me two ibuprofen pills.

I think about that. It’s been a while since I have, and now that he mentions it, I can vaguely remember what it felt like to have a real family, if even for a short while.

“I was never really close to the woman or the secret older brother, obviously, but I was close to Kenny. I miss him sometimes. I barely remember the details of him anymore, but what I do remember is that he made me feel so safe, like nothing could get to me as long as he was around. He was a small kid in stature, but to me he was larger than life. Beautiful. Kind. Smart. I often wonder where he ended up, who he grew up to be . . .” I shrug helplessly. “But I guess I’ll never know.”

A strange look passes over Lucien’s face that he tries to disguise.

“What’s with that look?” I ask before chugging the water and tossing back the pills.

“Nothing.” He tries to feign innocence. I glare at him as I swallow the last of my water.

Lucien grins. “It’s nothing . . . I’m just a little jealous, that’s all.”

I slap his shoulder, guffawing. “Of what, an eight-year-old?”

He looks at me with a soft expression. “Your first love.”

I stare at him, scoffing when I can tell he’s being serious. “Maybe puppy love, but real love? I don’t think I experienced that until much later.” I peek up at him beneath my lashes, afraid to look too closely at him.

I watch his lip twitch and curve a little at the corners.

“Perhaps, but I think it still counts.” I roll my eyes, but he glares at me before softening his gaze. “Until recently, I didn’t think anyone would ever have any kind of love for me. I think that’s why I was in such a dark place when you started stalking me.”

My voice catches, understanding dawning that Lucien felt unloved and unwanted, and I preyed on him—stalked him. I made a mockery of his feelings by not being honest about my own. “Really?” I ask though I already know even if I can’t admit it to myself.

“Yeah,” he answers. “But playing with you felt better than drowning. Talking with you felt almost normal.”

He leans in closer, our knees brushing as his fingers trot up my arms, and somehow I’ve missed how we ended up seated this closely.

“Would it surprise you to know how hard I got knowing you were out there somewhere watching me?” He walks two fingers along my thigh.

“I loved every second of knowing I had all of your attention, all of your focus. Not Morningstar but me, the worst parts of me that aren’t easily marketable.

That people don’t see. The fucked up part of me that sometimes wants to set myself on fire and take the whole world with me.

Having your eyes on me felt like you would sit beside me as we watched the world burn, and I loved every second of it.

Thinking of you drove my nightmares away.

It gave me something to fixate on and kept me from losing all sense of control.

It’s why I didn’t mind those eyes on me.

Why would I ever give something like that up? ”

I try to dislodge the lump in my throat but it’s proving difficult.

“You’re going to be mine forever because we’re one in the same, you and I,” he finishes.

“How?” I rasp.

How could I ever hold on to a man like him forever? A girl like me with someone like him, could never work. We wouldn’t be allowed to. Or more truthfully, I’d be too scared to. How are we anything alike?

“Because you can see in the dark too.”

We talk and flirt some more until the only type of tension left in the room is sexual.

Walking me back to my bedroom, he leads the way, my hands firmly wrapped in his, making it impossible for me to let go, or run.

He calmly guides me to the bed, and I sit.

There’s a stampede of nerves reacting in my body at his touch, at the realization the moment has finally arrived.

No more distractions or delays. There’s boxes and clothes piled in random spaces, but there’s no longer regret or worry filling the bedroom.

The bed dips when he sits next to me and it groans when I edge in closer, fisting his t-shirt in my hands to keep him here, or keep myself steady, it doesn’t matter which.

“Lucien,” I murmur.

“Yeah, Princess,” he breathes, his breath tickling the inseam of my lips.

“Thank you.” My eyes stare deeper into his. “It really was the best day ever.”

He leans forward, kissing me. It deepens until my stomach knots and pulls at the ignition cord of my body.

“The day’s not over yet,” he whispers against my lips. “I told you . . . I’m playing for keeps and there’s still one thing I haven’t claimed yet.”

It’s four in the morning, the day has been over for a while, but the claiming I’ve been waiting for is finally here. He’s marked me in every way possible, but I want him to own me, body and spirit. My heart is his for the taking too, if he wants it.

“Then take me,” I whisper.

In one swift motion, he rolls me on top of him, my legs straddling his hips.

His cock strains against his jeans and I can’t believe he isn’t tired from all the fucking he’s done with it today.

I thought he was only teasing about the endurance thing, but I can’t imagine many people would be able to keep up with his . . . appetite. He’s insatiable.

His strong hands grip my waist and trail up my back. They brush up the sequin material, pressing me closer against him. Then he’s ripping my dress apart, the fabric like paper against his strength and tenacity. I’d wanted to keep it, but after everything it’s been through, I’m just happy it’s off.

Laying back down on the quilted duvet, he rests his hands on my hips as I bracket his thighs, my bare pussy inches from his hard cock.

“Now, take it out, Princess. You’ve earned it.”

Those freakishly golden-amber eyes are hooded as he looks up at me, longing and obsession exchanged in equal measure between our gazes.

I drag my nails down his torso, over every muscle and ridge until I reach the edge of his pants.

Fuck me, if there was some way, any way, I could keep him, I would. I’d do it in a heartbeat.

I’ve barely packed, but as the clank of his buckle releasing chimes, the zip of his zipper buzzes and the huffs of our breathing churn the cadence of this room, it all falls to the wayside.

The only thing that matters is that I have him now.

We played a game for keeps today and in the end we both won.

My fingertips barely touch as I grip him in my hands and pump long, slow strokes up his massive length.

He’s easily the biggest I’ve ever seen, and though that isn’t saying much, it doesn’t make it any less true. This man is going to wreck me with his cock.

“ Fuck , baby, just like that,” Lucien groans as I thumb the head.

“Touch me,” I urge, and he obeys, bringing his calloused palms up to knead at my breasts.

I lean into the feel of them, all the new sensations that threaten to overtake me.

“Have I told you how much I like your tits?” he rasps; his voice tinted in desire.

“No, you haven’t actually,” I smirk.

He jostles them in a way that makes me giggle. I love his unserious nature sometimes.

“They’re so squishy, like marshmallows.”

His large hands grab two handfuls as he proceeds to honk my tits. I slap at his chest.

“They’re not to be toyed with,” I scold.

“Oh really?” He releases my breasts to lean up on his hands before taking his tongue and rolling a nipple into his mouth. My breath gets caught and he drags his teeth across the sensitive skin.

“You should pierce these,” he offers before doing the same to the other side.

I groan, even as desire hums throughout my body at his suckling.

“Absolutely not, how about you pierce yours?” I retort, my arousal adding to the slickness as I try to keep hold of his cock in my hand. Precum spills from his tip as I continue to rub myself against him and stroke.

“I just might,” he moans.

He brings one hand back up, gripping my other breast harder than before and I feel the sharp pang right between my legs.

More .

“I should have known you’d say something like that,” I sass.

His teeth clamp down, biting my nipple so hard, I scream.

“Fuck!” I yelp, letting his cock go and bringing my hands to his shoulder so I don’t fall off his lap. “I think you did pierce them.”

“Oh, please, I barely broke skin,” he admonishes, pulling off to suck on the other one.

“What?” I jolt, patting at my free tit to ensure my nipple is still there, though I can feel his mouth turn up into a grin around my breast.