Page 40 of Gilded

LUKA

M y gaze follows Malia as she smoothly ebbs from one conversation to the next, slipping from group to group. Effortless. Elegant. Graceful. Even while trying to escape the arm Zeiger keeps around her waist. I’ve been watching him touch her for two hours, and I’m as edgy as a blade.

Her dress choice is helping me keep an eye on her in this crowd, though it’s also distracting. Silver sequins, no back, low front. She owns the gaze of every man here.

Now, as she and Zeiger speak with the owner of the New York Yankees, his hand moves from her waist to her spine, then slips under her hair and grips her neck in an overbearing gesture, clearly portraying ownership to every other man in the room.

And I see red.

Fucking neon red.

We’ve only been at the gala for two hours, and I want to break every bone in Zeiger’s body. I’ll take extra pleasure in killing him when the time comes.

Since finding out Malia is truly innocent, a lock inside me has popped open.

I’m consumed with the thought of her. I hate having her out of my sight for even a minute.

I despise having all these men look at her like she would be their next meal if they got even a moment alone with her.

Loathe the idea that she could find someone at these galas actually worthy of her. So much more worthy than I am.

Jairo returns to my side after making a loop around the main ballroom. “What did Barbie bring you?”

“Malia’s birthday present.”

“What is it?”

“None of your business.”

Jairo smirks and surveys the space. “This is a who’s-fucking-who of New York. Did you see Senator?—”

“Billings, Turner, and Brewer? Yes.”

“And Congresswoman?—”

“Bates. Yes. I’ve also seen Commissioner Pike, Mayor Redmond, and half a dozen city board members.”

“I knew Tarik had important people in his pocket, but this is over the top. There’s no telling which ones would lie for him and which wouldn’t. I wondered why Malia never sought out help at one of these events, but that’s obvious now.”

I’m thinking about that when Malia leaves Soren’s side and starts in the direction of one of the many bathrooms in the apartment.

Just before she disappears through the doorway, she glances in my direction.

The moment she finds me, her gaze holds, and her expression tells me she’s at the end of a frazzled rope.

Her gaze is distant. Her expression drawn.

A sense of acceptance dulls all her shine.

“You should probably leave,” Jairo says. “You’ve been on the verge of murder since we got here. Swag and I have Malia covered.”

“I’m not leaving while she’s still within his reach.”

“I get why she’s under your skin. She’s really something. Like you said, naive but mature. It’s an odd combination I couldn’t visualize until I met her. But short of blowing this whole deal, you’re going to have to accept space between you.”

I take a deep breath and try to clear my mind, but what fills my head is that horrific day that changed everything.

The way Tarik and his partner stormed into my childhood home with weapons drawn.

My father shooting to his feet and stepping in front of my brother.

My mother doing the same, shielding me. I can still hear the shot that dropped both my father and my brother.

Gooseflesh still crawls over my skin, remembering my mother’s blood-curdling screams joining mine as we were dragged from the house and thrown into an old van waiting outside.

The memories are still so vivid, I get a visceral reaction.

I can’t let that wedding happen tomorrow.

I can’t let him drag Malia into a life of misery, the way I was.

But I can’t risk my team either. It’s an impossible situation, and the sense of powerlessness pulls me back to all those years I spent imprisoned, at the mercy of whatever sick bastard guarded me that day.

After thirty years, this mission has woven itself into my DNA. But after only a month, so has Malia.

I leave Jairo, following Malia’s path into a library at the end of the hall. When I find the room empty, I knock on the door of the private bathroom.

“Malia.”

She opens the door, drying tears with a tissue.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

In one step, she’s in my arms, and my world rights. “Better now.”

I close the door with my foot as I cup her face and kiss her. “I hate seeing you with him.”

“I hate being with him.” Her hands move up my chest and around my neck.

I kiss her again. “I hate the way he’s touching you.”

“I hate being touched by him.” She slides her hands into my hair and scores my scalp with her nails, shooting lust over every inch of my skin.

“You are the most beautiful woman here. I can’t keep my eyes off you.”

She rocks her gorgeous body against mine, and blood flows south.

I give her another kiss, then pull the jewelry box from my pocket. Raising it to eye level, I smile. “Happy birthday, love.”

Her gaze darts to the box, confused. “What?”

“It’s your birthday. I may have only had six birthdays with my parents, but it was enough to know every parent should celebrate the day their child was born. Since your father is a heartless bastard, I’m filling in because I am incredibly grateful for the day you were born.”

Her expression softens and her head tilts. “Oh, Luka…”

Since she doesn’t seem to know what to do, I open the box.

When she looks down, all her air rushes out. “Oh my God.”

It is truly an incredible piece of jewelry. Julian proved, once again, that he is a savant.

She tentatively slides one finger over the metal as if she’s afraid it will disintegrate. A sound catches in her throat, and she laughs an awed “Legos?”

My words to describe what I wanted were Legos, platinum, delicate, and rainbow. Rainbows are something that have always given me a sense of hope, the storm clearing to reveal something beautiful. Julian’s vision is, as usual, impeccable.

The design is an alternating pattern of the very smallest Legos, a flat, rectangular block with two connecting circles, and a flat square with one connecting circle.

A circle that has been filled with a sapphire to mimic the infinity-style Lego, each one a color of the rainbow, completing two full rainbows around the bracelet.

“I… How…” She shakes her head. “I don’t even know what to say. It’s absolutely incredible .”

“Like you.” I’m thrilled she loves it, and I take it from the box to fasten it around her wrist. “Platinum and sapphire. As unique and beautiful as you are. Now, even if he takes away all your Legos, you’ll always have one to touch when you’re anxious.”

Her eyes fill with tears, and I kiss her. When I pull away, she looks up at me with an expression I haven’t seen in decades. It’s the way my mother often looked at my father. I didn’t even realize I remembered that look until right this second.

“I love it.” She kisses me, and for a split second, I twist the words in my mind to I love you . A deep, deep craving awakens inside me. One to be accepted and loved and understood. One to stop hiding who I am and have a partner like Malia—strong, intelligent, sweet, sexy, open, fresh.

“But if he sees it—” she starts.

“Tell him someone here gave it to you. A gift of admiration for your sculptures.”

She stretches up and wraps her arms around my neck in a tight hug. “Thank you.”

I press into her softness with an already hard cock. She opens her mouth, meeting my tongue with her own, and I dive into her warmth. The way I need her is more extreme than anything I’ve ever felt before. All I can think about is driving inside her, finding heaven, and floating there.

My passion is eating me alive as I collect her skirt into my hands until I can reach her perfect ass. I wrap my hand at the hip of her thong and jerk until the fabric snaps and the panties drop to the floor.

She gasps, breaking the kiss.

“Open my pants,” I order before pushing her dress off one shoulder and taking her tit into my mouth.

Her hands hurry to free my cock. “Want you. So badly.”

I back her against the nearest wall and lift her until her thighs are wrapped around my hips. I position myself, use one hand to cover her mouth, and thrust.

She cries out against my hand, and I thrust again. And again. I’m rabid. Wild. Totally out of control. And I’ve never felt as alive and electrified as I do in this moment.

I release her mouth and use both hands to grip her ass and pull her into my thrusts. She grabs handfuls of my jacket and presses her mouth to my shoulder to smother her cries.

I’m as close as I can get to her, yet it feels like she’s slipping through my fingers. My mind swamps with the idea of Zeiger touching her this way. Of not being able to touch her again after tonight. Anger and passion blend. The need to make her mine is so intense, it’s blinding.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” I rasp at her ear, breathing her in, soaking in the feel of every inch of her against me.

I kiss and bite her neck, cup her tit. I tilt my hips to get better contact with her clit and thrust again.

I hate rushing my time with her, but we can’t linger.

“Come for me, love. I need to feel you come for?—”

On the next thrust, her orgasm breaks in a back-arching twist, and she bites her lip to keep her voice down. The feel of her milking my cock makes my mind split with my warrior urging me to drive on and my humanity telling me to stop for a condom.

I’ve never wanted to bring kids into this cruel world, but the thought of Malia carrying my baby makes me lose control. I fist her hair and kiss her hard as I come in an orgasm so intense, my vision grays around the edges.

Knees weak, I lean into her, sandwiching her against the wall to keep us both up. When I lift my head to meet her gaze, she’s struggling to reenter reality like I am.

Her expression goes soft, but also pained. She thinks we’ll lose each other tomorrow, but I’m holding out hope that when I talk business with her father tonight, I’ll get all those locations and eagerly end both Tarik and Zeiger.