Page 21 of Gilded

LUKA

T his woman is a pure aphrodisiac.

She shivers and writhes under my mouth, and her hands are fisted in my hair, shooting pain across my scalp and lust into my cock. Her cries and moans skitter over my exposed nerves, creating a high I’ve never experienced before.

It’s truly a thrill to be at the helm when she discovers the first real pleasure she’s ever felt, and it makes me want to introduce her to every fucking pleasure available in life. Since that’s not possible, I coax her into more orgasms as I learn her body.

She’s got a unique flowery flavor, and I swear this must be how pure innocence tastes. I should get a wicked thrill out of taking that from her. But instead of repelling me, she draws me in, and I’m beginning to think she could have the kind of power over me I’ve always forbidden.

She flies through two more orgasms before she’s coherent enough to say, “Can we…” She’s panting, arm across her eyes. “I just need a break.”

I growl and bite her thigh again, pulling a gasp before I kiss her flat belly, the curves of her tits, and finally press my face to her neck as I sink my body onto hers. And groan at the perfection of it.

Her chest pumps hard, her heart thunders in her veins, her breaths come raspy and quick in my ears.

My body is pushing me to bury myself deep inside her and make her mine.

But my mind knows there’s no rainbow at the end of this scenario, and letting myself think I could claim her is only leading me down a very dark path.

“What…” she starts, pausing to swallow. “Was that?”

I lift my head and kiss her. “That was multiple orgasms.”

Her lashes sweep down, her expression shy. “Do you want me to?—”

“I want you to relish the pleasure,” I tell her, despite how badly I want more. “You won’t get that from him, so enjoy it while you can.”

“Then why show me?”

I ease to my side and slide my hand over her belly. “You have to know what pleasure feels like so you can play the part convincingly with him.”

An unmistakable flash of disappointment glows in her eyes before she looks away. “Why? He doesn’t care how I feel.”

“That’s true. But your pleasure fuels his. For normal men, it’s part of sex with someone you want. For men like him, it’s all about power, control, and ego.”

She presses her fingers to her eyes and shakes her head.

“These are nuances to sex that will take time to learn,” I tell her. “A lot of things about sex can’t be taught with words.”

I roll her to her side so she’s lying partially on top of me and slide my hand from her knee to her ass. “Relax, love.”

She slides her hand beneath my open shirt and strokes my chest. “Will you tell me…” She yawns midsentence. “…about your tattoos? What they mean. Why you got them. I’m curious.”

“You are definitely curious.” I smile a little. “Maybe someday. Rest now.”

It doesn’t take long for her to slip into sleep, but I lie with her longer than I should, loving the feeling of her snuggled close, spreading warmth through my body. Even more internal barriers fall, and it leaves me wondering if I have any intact at this point.

“Fucking Jairo,” I mutter, pissed he was able to see this coming before I did.

Her story would explain why they’re so scared of her. Why they control her so severely. If she truly didn’t know what they do and doesn’t want to be part of it, they couldn’t risk her telling the wrong person.

When her breathing is deep and slow, I text Jairo with the new information, though I’m not sure how much of it he can prove or disprove.

But when she’s so afraid of water that she can’t swim in her own pool, braving the ocean alone in a storm… No. Unbelievable.

But something happened.

I absolutely need to know exactly how honest she’s being with me, because there is still a good chance that if she’s not outright lying, she’s giving me half-truths. She has the potential to be a gifted manipulator. After all, she learned from the best.

I’m wondering if there’s any way I could marry you instead of Soren.

Remembering her question creates the same strange tension in my chest now as it did then. I’m clearly in too deep with her. Something I didn’t believe possible.

I ease away, then stand and watch her sleep while I reposition my erection. Her hair is spread out behind her, her dress still showing off those gorgeous legs of hers. But it’s the innocence of her face, relaxed in sleep, that tugs at me.

I exit her suite and text Jairo. Kill the cameras.

He hits the text with a thumbs-up. Drone up in five.

I prowl the first floor, waiting for confirmation that the drone and its Wi-Fi blocker is up. The house is silent. The storm is just normal rain on the roof at this point.

Jairo texts back Done .

I pull my tiny tools from my pocket and work Tarik’s office door open in ten seconds, then shut the door behind me and look around.

The exterior patio lights help me place things—desk, chairs, bookcases, credenza.

I turn on my phone’s flashlight and partially cover it with my finger to lower the intensity.

The desk drawers and file cabinets are locked, as expected. I could get in, but that takes time.

I shine my light behind every photo, looking for a safe.

Then pull the books off the shelves, looking for a switch to open some kind of hidden compartment.

Those fucking maps are here. I know it. I glance at the papers in the inbox but find regular old bills.

Look under the blotter, but nothing’s there.

I drop to one knee and shine the light under the desk, running my fingers over the wood. I’m about to stand when I see the bottom of the office door as it opens.

Fuck. Alarm cuts through my chest. I cover my phone light.

Then a whispered “Luka?” cools everything down, but this is still going to be almost as hard to explain to her as it would be to a guard. At least with the guards, I have an intimidation factor.

I turn off my phone’s flashlight and push to my feet. Neither of us moves. We stare at each other across the room, silent, yet still speaking. She doesn’t look as surprised as I’d expect, which makes me wonder why. The moment hangs and expands, and in a lot of ways, it feels more intimate than sex.

“It’s just the storm.” Tim’s grouchy voice shoots alarm down my spine.

“His office is open,” Toby says in an undertone. “I told you.”

Malia comes into the office and deliberately points me toward an alcove behind the door, then flips on the office light. I don’t have any choice but to move.

I press my back against the wall and close my eyes, my mind whipping up some kind of excuse for this situation.

Malia moves to the desk and picks up the papers in the inbox. She’s looking through them when Toby says, “What are you doing in here?” from the doorway.

She casually glances over her shoulder, then returns her focus to the papers. “What does it look like?”

The attitude in her voice would make me smile in any other situation.

“It looks like you’re somewhere you shouldn’t be, looking at things you shouldn’t look at.”

She slaps the papers back into the inbox and continues to rummage around the desk. “I’m looking for the wedding guest list. Soren told me it was in here.”

She picks up the blotter and puts it down, then places her hands on her hips with a frustrated exhale.

“What did you do to the cameras?” Toby comes farther into the room.

Malia steps in that direction, cutting him off from an area where Toby could see me. “What do you mean?”

“They’re not working.”

“ Pfft . Rookie,” she says. “These storms always knock shit offline.”

“Told you,” Tim says from behind Toby.

“How’d you get in here?” Toby asks.

“It was open,” she says, her tone growing annoyed. “Not that it matters. Everything is locked up in here anyway.” She gestures to the door. “You should be more concerned about the perimeter security going offline. Out. I’ll lock it behind me to settle your jittery mind.”

Tim chuckles, Toby swears, and Malia turns the lock on the door handle and flips off the lights, veritably pushing the men out of the room before closing the door after her.

Their voices fade down the hall, and I stand here, off-balance by the way Malia—yet again—shielded me from the men in this house. Without question.

I rest my head against the wall until I hear the patio door open and close and catch Tim’s and Toby’s shadows as they walk the yard.

Then I slip out of the office, breathe a sigh, and head toward my cottage. I’m not ready for the questions Malia will undoubtedly have.