Page 18 of Keeping Skylar (Fractured Hearts #1)

Fed up, I turn on my heel and walk away, heading straight for my car.

I leave Lucia to stew in her anger, not sparing her a backward glance.

A moment later, I’m tearing out of the carpark, hell-bent on putting as much distance between us as I can.

Yeah, fuck this. And fuck her. I’m heading home to my loving, beautiful, perfect wife.

I sit at my desk in my study, clutching a half-empty bottle of whiskey. Tonight was the first time Lucia and I had a real altercation—one that peeled back the mask and revealed a side of her I’d never seen before. Now I’m left with a head full of doubts and a gnawing unease about who she really is.

Sky and I have had our fair share of disagreements in the past, but they were never spiteful or physical like how it was with Lucia earlier on when she slapped me.

My wife has never been the jealous type either.

In fact, she was always respectful and forgiving, even when she was hurt or angry.

It makes me appreciate her that much more.

After the gym incident, I’m starting to question whether that was just the tip of the iceberg.

Maybe Lucia isn’t who I thought she was.

There’s still so much I don’t know about her, layers she keeps hidden away.

And until I figure them out, I can’t be sure if a future with her is something I should even be chasing.

The sharp, jarring sound of a fist pounding against the front door slices through my thoughts. I take one final swig of whiskey, letting it burn down my throat, before making my way to the front of the house.

I open the door to find Lucia standing on my porch, shoulders slumped and eyes puffy and red from crying. In this moment, she looks smaller somehow—fragile, vulnerable, and completely undone. “Kaden, can we talk? Please.” Her voice comes out hoarse and slightly shaky.

I release a heavy breath, my expression softening at the sight of her. I step aside and gesture for her to come in.

I lead us into my study, settling behind my desk while she takes the seat across from me. I’m still simmering with frustration, and keeping that bit of distance feels necessary—just in case the tension between us flares up again. She can be unpredictable at times.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly, her gaze fixed on her clasped hands in her lap.

“Sometimes it’s hard for me to contain my anger and jealousy when it comes to you.

You have no idea how much I love you ..

. how scared I am of losing you.” She wipes away a tear with the back of her hand before finally lifting her eyes to meet mine.

“I understand, Lucia. But you have to admit, that was a bit of an overreaction. You know I care about you and would never hurt you in that way,” I reassure her.

She begins to cry again, and the sight of her tears starts to chip away at my armour. I rise and walk around to where she’s seated, taking her trembling hands in mine before helping her to her feet.

Wrapping my arms around her, she clings to me tightly, as if afraid I might vanish at any moment. My fingers gently stroke her back as she cries softly into my chest.

After a while, her sobs quieten, and her body relaxes against me. I slowly pull away, gazing at her beautiful, tear-streaked face, and gently place my hands on her cheeks.

Who am I kidding? I’m completely powerless when it comes to her, no matter how hard I try to resist. I just can’t deny her anymore.

I swipe away the remainder of her tears with the pads of my thumbs, the soft motion causing her eyes to flutter closed. Leaning in, I brush my lips against hers. “I’ve been dying to taste these lips again,” I murmur into her mouth.

Her arms circle my neck as she kisses me back, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Our kisses become deeper, more urgent, sparking a heat that swirls through me. I thread my fingers through her hair, tilting her head back, exposing the soft curve of her neck.

She moans when my warm mouth kisses and sucks at the sensitive skin along her throat and collarbone, her heavy pants making my arousal strain against my pants.

Suddenly, she takes a step back, then slowly lowers herself onto her knees, keeping her eyes locked on mine. Excitement and desire fill my body as Lucia tugs the hem of my pants down to my thighs. A devilish grin spreads across my face when she notices I’m not wearing anything underneath.

As soon as she wraps her warm hand around my length, I let out a pained groan.

I’m hard and aching—the sensation almost unbearable.

Lucia gives my cock a few lazy strokes before slowly guiding it into her mouth.

It slides in easily, all eight and a half inches of me, until all I can feel is the wet heat of her lips and tongue.

She always knows how to take me well, just like the goddess she is.

For the next hour, we lose ourselves in one another—savouring every kiss, every heavy breath, every delicious thrust of my hips as I fuck her senseless on my desk. Her loud moans spur me on, pushing me harder and deeper inside her.

Here in this room, there’s no hesitation, no holding back—just raw, physical need driving every movement.

And when it’s finally over, we collapse in a breathless, tangled mess of sweaty limbs, our bare bodies sated and our connection quietly reignited—deeper, messier, and more undeniable than ever before.