Page 22 of Until She’s Mine

Lucian

M y estate in the Adirondacks emerges from the pine forest like a sleeping beast, its slate roofs dusted with fresh snow. In New York, the weather is warm and sunny, summer already in the air, but here, winter still clings stubbornly to the mountains.

No city hum, no sirens. Just the wind through white pines and the distant crack of freezing lake ice.

The helicopter descends smoothly onto the private landing pad, and I reach across to unbuckle her seatbelt.

“This is yours?” she asks, her voice barely audible over the dying whir of the rotors.

“I bought it five years ago. I needed a place that was completely mine. Somewhere, no one could reach me.” I press the door release button with my thumb. “You’ll want to hold onto me. The ground’s icy.”

The cold hits like a physical blow. Evelyn gasps as the wind steals her breath, her boots slipping on the frosted helipad. I catch her elbow, pulling her against my side as we cross to the waiting Range Rover.

She watches the helicopter lift off through the rear window, her fingers curling into fists as the last connection to civilization disappears into the clouds. “Is this where you bring all your victims?”

“Only the ones I intend to keep.” I program the gate code into the dash. The estate’s security system hums to life around us. There are motion sensors in the trees, and thermal cameras along the stone walls.

The tires crunch over the quarter-mile gravel drive. Evelyn tenses as the house comes into view—six bedrooms, a conservatory, and the vaulted great room. The caretaker left as instructed; the only lights burning are in the living room and the kitchen, where a meal waits under silver cloches.

Her laugh is breathless. “Christ, Lucian.”

“What?” I glance at her, my hands on the wheel.

“It’s just... this is surreal. A helicopter? A private estate in the middle of nowhere? It’s like something out of a movie.”

The snow-covered pines stretch endlessly, the silence of the wilderness wrapping around us like a blanket.

The Range Rover rolls to a stop at the estate’s grand entrance, and I step out, rounding the vehicle to open her door.

She takes my offered hand. The icy air bites at her cheeks, painting them a rosy hue that makes her look even more breathtaking.

Evelyn sways when her heels sink into the gravel. I catch her around the waist, breathing in the fading traces of her jasmine scent. She’s lighter than she should be; the stress of the past months carved pounds from her frame. I make a mental note to have the chef prepare high-calorie meals.

The heavy oak door groans as we step inside. Evelyn’s sharp intake of breath tells me she’s seen it—the painting of mother and daughter she restored dominating the fieldstone fireplace. I bought it during the silent auction a few weeks ago and had it delivered here immediately.

She stops dead in the foyer and stares at the familiar faces. “You bought it.”

“It’s yours. I wanted you to have it.”

“Are you trying to build me a museum?”

I shrug. “If that’s what it takes.”

“You can’t just... buy me paintings, Lucian.”

“Can’t I?” I set our bags down by the door. “You’ve spent years restoring other people’s treasures, bringing beauty back to life. Why shouldn’t you have some of that beauty for yourself?”

“Because I don’t know how to accept gifts like this. I don’t know how to be the kind of woman who deserves helicopter rides, private estates, and priceless art.”

“You don’t have to earn this, Evelyn. You already deserve it. You deserve everything. You just need to let yourself have it.” I step behind her, close enough to feel the heat radiating from her skin.

She turns to me and buries her face into my chest, her eyes glittering with tears. “You probably expected me to fall to my knees and thank you for it. Instead, I’m going to wet your clothes with my tears and snot because I’m overwhelmed and don’t know how to process this.”

I chuckle softly, wrapping my arms around her. “Cry as much as you need to. My shirts can handle it.”

She laughs through her tears, the sound muffled against my chest. “Did you have the staff lay out rose petals, too? Am I going to find champagne chilling in an ice bucket and a string quartet playing in the corner?”

“Would you like that? I can arrange it.”

She shakes her head, sniffling. “No, this is enough. More than enough.”

“Good. I thought you’d appreciate something with a bit more substance.” My voice lowers. “But if you were offering to drop to your knees, I wouldn’t object.”

Evelyn pulls back slightly, her tear-streaked face tilted up to mine. A slow smile spreads across her lips. “You wouldn’t, huh?”

“Not in the slightest.” My thumb brushes over the delicate skin of her wrist. Her pulse quickens. “We are here all alone. There’s no one to hear your screams, love.”

A soft, breathy sound escapes her lips. “You’re insufferable,” she murmurs, but there’s no real reproach in her tone. If anything, she sounds intrigued.

“I’ve been called worse.” I release her and step back. “Come on. Let me show you the rest of the house.”

She follows me through the great room, her heels clicking softly against the polished hardwood floors.

The estate is vast, but every room is warm and cozy.

The conservatory is filled with lush greenery, the air thick with the scent of blooming orchids.

The library is lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, each one filled with first editions and rare volumes I’ve collected over the years.

And then there’s the master suite—a sprawling space with a king-sized bed draped in silk sheets and a private balcony overlooking the frozen lake.

“Is this the end of your grand tour?” Evelyn steps into the master suite. Her fingers stroke the silk sheets.

“For now,” I reply, leaning against the doorframe with my arms crossed. My gaze lingers on Evelyn, tracing the curve of her shoulders and the way her hair catches the firelight. “Unless there’s something else you’d like to see.”

She sits down on the edge of the bed and tilts her head, her hair falling over one shoulder. “What if I said there is?”

I push off the doorframe and step closer. “Just say a word and you’ll have it.” I stop just in front of her, looking down into her upturned face. Her eyes are wide, glassy, and her lips part slightly as she exhales a soft, shaky breath.

“You. I want you.”

I tilt her face up. “You have me. You’ve always had me.”

There’s a flicker of doubt in her eyes that makes my chest tighten. But then she leans into my touch, her hand coming up to cover mine, and the doubt dissolves.

“Show me. Show me what it means to have you. To be yours .”

I don’t need to be told twice. My hand moves from Evelyn’s cheek to her nape, tangling in her hair as I pull her closer.

Our lips meet in a kiss that’s both tender and passionate, a collision of longing and restraint.

She responds instantly, her hands sliding up my chest to wrap around my neck, her body pressing against mine.

The intensity builds quickly as the kiss deepens. My other hand finds her waist, pulling her closer until there’s no space left between us.

“Lucian,” she whispers, her voice trembling with need.

Her hands slide down to my chest, fingers fumbling with the buttons of my shirt.

I let her, my own hands roaming over her body, exploring every curve.

The fabric of her dress slides under my fingers, smooth and cool, but beneath it, her skin is hot.

I break the kiss just long enough to pull her dress over her head, tossing it aside carelessly.

She gasps as the cold air hits her bare skin, but I’m already covering her with my body, my lips finding hers again in a searing kiss.

My hands slide down her back, tracing her spine before I grip her hips and lift her onto the bed.

Evelyn falls back against the pillows, her hair splayed out like a dark halo around her head.

“You’re so beautiful.” I kneel between her legs. My eyes roam over her body: the obscene swell of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the long line of her legs. She watches me with wide eyes, her chest rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths.

I lean down, capturing one of her nipples in my mouth, swirling my tongue around the sensitive peak.

Evelyn’s hands tangle in my hair, pulling me closer as I lavish attention on her breasts, alternating between teasing licks and gentle bites. Her skin is sweet like honey, and her soft gasps and breathy moans drive me wild.

My mouth trails lower, leaving a path of fire down her stomach until I reach the apex of her thighs.

She trembles beneath me, her hips lifting instinctively as I press a kiss to the sensitive skin just above where she needs me most. Her fingers tighten in my hair, and she lets out a soft whimper when I finally, finally taste her.

She’s perfect, warm, wet, and so responsive that it’s all I can do to keep my desire in check. My tongue flicks over her clit in slow, short strokes, and her thighs tighten around my head. I don’t relent, working her with a precision that leaves her writhing beneath me.

“Lucian,” she gasps, tugging me closer. “Please.”

I know what she’s asking for, and I give it to her without hesitation.

Rough and messy. My tongue circles her clit faster now, my fingers sliding inside her to push her over the edge.

She comes with a cry that echoes through the room, her body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over her.

She collapses back onto the bed, her chest heaving, her skin flushed with the afterglow of her release.

I press a lingering kiss to the inside of her thigh before crawling up her body, my lips brushing against her skin as I move.

Her hands find my shoulders, pulling me up to meet her in a searing kiss.

The taste of her on my lips is addictive, and I groan into her mouth.