Page 33 of Gilded
LUKA
I ’ve seen my share of people on the brink of a meltdown.
As a kid, it was the other kids entering the camp. That stage that came right before their spirit broke. More recently, it’s been the men begging for their lives just before I kill them.
And Malia is about to shatter.
I pull her into my arms and hold her tight. “I’ve got you. You’re okay. Baby, I promise I’ll get you out, okay? It’s just going to take time.”
When she wraps her arms around me and presses her face to my chest, I realize my barriers are completely gone.
I want her. I want her safe. I want her happy. I desperately want her in my bed—willingly. But there’s a lot that has to happen before—or even if—that could ever happen.
“Come on,” I say, pulling back, “let’s get you into the bath before the water gets cold.”
There’s a knock at the door, and I open it as we pass. Diallo hands me the luggage, then nods and walks away.
I toss my duffel over my shoulder and pull Malia’s bag behind me as I guide her toward the bedroom suite. In the bathroom, I feel the water, then pull the plug. “I have to refill it.”
I replace the plug, start the water, and add bubbles again, then turn and tug her T-shirt up and off. I work her jeans open and push them over her hips along with her white thong. I crouch to pull everything off her feet, and her pussy is at eye level. Her very bare pussy.
I run my finger over the smooth skin and press my lips there. “That’s nice.”
She balances with one hand on my shoulder as I pull everything off her feet, and I find the gesture strangely sweet.
I pop the clip of her bra between her tits and run my hands over all her luscious skin. A rush of lust pushes in, and something that feels like happiness. But it’s been so long since I’ve felt true happiness, I wouldn’t know it if it slapped me in the face.
I check the water and turn it off. Then I take her hand and say, “In.”
Watching her beautiful body move stirs embers to flames, and I have to force myself to let go of her.
As she settles into the bubbles with a sigh, her eyes close and the tension leaves her face. I swear on my family’s graves, I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight.
But Jairo’s right about her attempted escape. Her naivety and Yari’s willingness to help her cost Yari his life.
I move to the head of the tub, sit on a ledge, and take candles out of a bowl, then lean over and dip the bowl in the water.
While I’m at her ear, I murmur, “Tilt your head back.”
Her eyes pop open with a flash of fear, and I hate seeing these signs that she still doesn’t trust me, even though I know she’s more than justified.
“I’m going to wash your hair.”
The fear softens, and she looks up at the ceiling.
Her hair is thick and soft and raven black when it’s wet. The silence is comfortable, and I set the bowl down and pick up the complimentary shampoo. “What are you thinking about?”
Her gaze moves from the ceiling to my face before her eyes close. “I don’t think anyone has ever washed my hair for me before.”
“Your nannies didn’t bathe you?”
“I have no memory of it. I’ve always taken baths and showers alone. Dressed myself. Fixed my own hair.”
That angers me. “What the fuck were the nannies for?”
“Discipline. Instruction. Buying things I needed. Keeping me from bugging my father or the chef or the groundskeepers. Really, anyone who would talk to me. No one has ever treated me with the kindness you do. Yari was always good to me, but he didn’t have the power you have, and he had a family to think about.
Everyone is too afraid of them to take any kind of stand.
And I’m acutely aware you don’t have to be nice.
You would be hailed as a hero if you treated me the way Soren and my father do. ”
A warm spot opens in my chest as I realize I love taking care of her. Comforting her. Pleasing her. Keeping her safe. “I’m not Soren or your father.”
“Yeah.” She smiles a little. “I love that about you.”
My thoughts derail and veer toward a fantasy of what it would be like to have someone like Malia really love me.
Someone I admire. Someone with more guts than anyone I know outside my team.
Someone who could potentially really get me.
Who understands things that only we can understand because of how we grew up, like being stripped of your rights, your power, your trust, your heart, your soul.
Like being at the mercy of ruthless men.
The thought opens a craving deep inside me.
One that’s been hidden in the dark since I was a boy.
But by the time I’m able to get her out while keeping everyone safe, she won’t be this woman anymore.
She’ll have been controlled, used, and abused by Soren and others.
She’ll be someone entirely different. And the scars will be permanent. The kind that fade but never heal.
The best thing I can do for her now is teach her how to get through it until I can get her out.
As I massage her scalp, she moans a sigh. The sound lights me up. I condition and rinse her hair, then move to the side of the tub. I curve one arm on the edge and rest my chin there, while I let my other hand roam. Along her cheek, her jaw, her neck, then down her belly and between her legs.
She sips air, and her body tenses up.
“Breathe,” I tell her, keeping my touch light.
She lets out the breath she’s holding and shifts in the tub. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Everything about you is perfect, just as you are. I know you have a lot of pressure from the outside to meet others’ expectations, but on the inside, you need to remember you are amazing. You’ll need that to withstand the hardships in the life you’re headed into.”
I trace the outer lips of her pussy before finding my way to her clit. “You also need to find a way to get past the ugliness so you can keep yourself together in the worst situations.”
She moans and pushes one of her hands into my hair. The move makes her sit up, and bubbles slide over her tits. While I’m admiring the sight, she wraps her hand around the back of my neck and pulls my head down as she stretches up to kiss me.
When she pulls away, she says, “Take me through the next step. I want to be ready before I’m stuck with him.”