The Price: House of Sin - Book Five

by Naughton, Elisabeth

  My words drew a reluctant laugh from him, but when I rocked against him again, he groaned.

  “Dio. Sei irresistibile.” He swallowed hard and closed his eyes, struggling, I could tell, to keep from thrusting up hard and deep inside me. “Natalie...”

  I brushed my mouth over his. “No more excuses. I want you bare, Luc. Nothing between us. You’re mine, and I’m yours, and this—us—is unbreakable.”

  He groaned and opened to my kiss, drawing my tongue deep into his mouth. And when his arms tightened around my waist, I shifted my hips so he was at the perfect position, then lowered and took him in, gasping at the tight, thick feel of him stretching me again.

  “Cazzo, ho bisogno di te.” His kiss turned greedy, wild, commanding against my mouth.

  I rocked against him, contracting around his rigid length, groaning against his tongue, against his lips. His big hands tipped my head the way he wanted so he could kiss me deeper. So he could take me. So he could claim me the way we both needed. And I gave myself over to the pleasure of his touch. To whatever he wanted. As much as he needed.

  He was everything to me. Everything I’d been missing. Everything I needed. My heart. My strength. My very purpose in this life. I knew that now. I understood there’d been something much more powerful than chance at work the day I’d wandered into his building in New York. A love like this, a passion this intense, didn’t happen randomly. Fate had sent me to him so I could help him. And I’d found him because he was the missing piece of my heart I hadn’t known I’d been searching for.

  “Ah, angioletto,” he whispered against my lips. “Non posso vivere senza te. Don’t leave me. Please... Non lasciarmi mai.”

  “I won’t,” I whispered back, kissing him again and again as I rode him. “I won’t ever leave you.”

  His lips moved to my jaw. And I lost myself in his strength as he wrapped his muscular arms around me and took charge of my body, thrusting deep into my core as he pushed away from the wall and devoured my throat with his sinful and tempting lips. I lost myself in his scent—in the sweet, familiar tones of jasmine and cedar and rum I would always associate with him as he drew his cock out and thrust back in harder and deeper with every plunge, stretching me wider, pushing me toward a climax that was steamrolling straight toward me.

  And I lost every bit of my heart and soul to this man when he cupped the back of my head with one large hand and tipped my face down to his so my forehead rested against his as he consumed me with a passion and frenzied urgency I didn’t know was in him.

  “Look at me, angioletto. Don’t look away.”

  I blinked. Gasped because he was hitting that spot... That perfect spot that was going to make me implode. Tried to focus but couldn’t.

  “Stay with me, Natalie,” he whispered, holding me still against him as he thrust deep again and again and kept my gaze locked with his. “You... You are my salvation. I don’t deserve you, but ah, Dio... I need you. I’m nothing without you. Absolutely nothing. I love you, angioletto. Only you.” He pressed his lips against mine. “Always. Always you, my sweet, sweet Natalie.”

  His raw words, his thick cock striking that spot again and again, the mesmerizing and complete adoration in his eyes as he stared up at me... It was all too much. Too intense. My orgasm slammed into me with the force of a tidal wave.

  It swept me under and devoured me with its power. But faintly, I heard Luc call my name. Deep inside, I felt that tsunami of passion consume him as he lengthened and swelled, growing even bigger, then erupted in my core. And not wanting to let go, I held on and rode the wave with him until we were both limp and sweaty and floating through the ripples left behind. Lost in each other. Exactly as we were always meant to be.

  Water ran in rivulets down my face. When I managed to pry my eyes open, I realized Luc was slumped back against the shower wall. I tried to push back so I wouldn’t hurt him, but he tightened his arms around me and didn’t let me go. And as I studied him, I realized he wasn’t uncomfortable. There was no pain across his face from his wounds touching the tiles. His features were relaxed, his eyes glazed and sated, and he was toying with my wet hair, running his hands over any part of me he could touch, keeping me close, exactly as I’d ached for him to do for over a week.

  “Are you okay?” I whispered, not wanting to do anything to ruin this moment, but needing to know that I hadn’t pushed him too far.

  “I...” His gaze slid to the wet curl he was currently holding near my shoulder. “I feel like I can breathe.” His gaze lifted back to mine. “For the first time in over a week.”

  My heart filled. Filled so full with love for this man, I was afraid it might just burst. I lifted my hands to his face and kissed him. “Oh, Luc…”

  His fingertips grazed my cheek. “You’re crying. Dio, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

  I shook my head and blinked. “They’re happy tears. Oh, I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you too, angioletto.” His voice was thick as he sat up, wrapped his arms around me under the shower spray, and pressed his face against my throat. “More than you know.”

  I held him to me and closed my eyes, and as I felt his heart beat in time with mine under the spray, I told myself this was a start. A new start. We still had a long road ahead of us, but for the first time in days—weeks—I had hope. Hope that we could get through this. That we could heal.

  That somehow—no matter what—we could survive his family.

  We had to. Because I was done letting them dictate Luc’s life. He was mine, and I was never letting them steal him from me again.

  7

  Luc

  She loved me.

  She loved me without judgment. Without reason. With no regard for the consequences and no concern for herself.

  She loved me from the bottom of her heart and the very center of her soul.

  I saw it each time she looked at me. I felt it every time she touched me. And I was both awed and terrified by the power of that truth. By the way it made me melt. By the ache it created deep inside that made me want to be better, more, everything for her.

  And I was deathly afraid that I never would be.

  She led me by the hand down the stairs toward the kitchen. My legs were weak—my whole fucking body felt wrecked—but I couldn’t let go of her, not even for a second.

  After she’d rocked the world out from under me in the shower, I’d lathered her hair with shampoo, washed every inch of her delectable skin with soap, and taken my time touching her, caressing her, memorizing each curve and line and angle on her body all over again. We’d toweled each other off, but I hadn’t wanted to let her leave me even to get clothes from the room where she’d been staying. And as I’d pulled on fresh sweats and a T-shirt from the supply Marco had gotten me, I’d been relieved when she hadn’t seemed to want to leave me either and instead had grabbed a shirt from my drawer.

  The kitchen was spotless when we reached it, and I realized she’d cleaned up my broken cup and splattered coffee before she’d come to me in the shower. Drawing me toward the small wooden table near the windows that looked over the back lawn, she pulled out a chair, then pushed me onto the seat.

  “Sit while I make you something to eat.” She skimmed her fingers across my jaw as she kissed me. “You need food, bello. I like my man thick.”

  I couldn’t take my eyes off her as she stepped toward the stove and reached for a pan. She was learning little words and phrases in Italian. I wasn’t sure if Fee had been teaching her over the last week, or if she was just catching on. But I liked it. I loved it, actually. And I ached to hear her whisper more words in my ear—in Italian, English, I didn’t care which.

  Because just the sound of her voice, the feel of her skin against mine...it kept me grounded. It kept the self-doubt and loathing from consuming me. It even made me forget—for a moment, at least—all my faults as a man and husband where she was concerned.

  She moved to the refrigerator, grabbed a carton of eggs, cheese,
a handful of vegetables, and a package of ham, then closed the fridge door with her hip. Humming something I couldn’t quite make out, she sashayed back to the stove in nothing but that oversized T-shirt that hit at her mid-thighs.

  I watched as she cracked the eggs in a bowl, whisked them with a fork, then poured them into a pan that was already crackling with butter.

  The sexy vee between her bare legs called out to me like a singing siren. Unable to sit still any longer, I pushed to my feet, quietly crossed the room, and reached for the suggestive sway of her hips.

  She startled and looked up at me, then smiled. A sensual, relaxed, for-my-eyes-only grin that made me ache to touch her—everywhere. “You’re supposed to be relaxing.”

  “I know.” Hands on her hips, I leaned down and brushed my lips against the side of her throat. “I’m too hungry to relax.”

  She sighed as I kissed her. Tipped her head to the side to give me more access to her creamy skin. And shivered when I found a sensitive spot and sucked. “The eggs are going to burn if you keep that up.”

  I reached over with one hand, flipped off the stove, and pushed the pan to the back burner. Then I grasped her at the hips and turned her to face me. “Eggs aren’t what I want right now. Ti desidero, angioletto.”

  She sighed again. Opened to my kiss and slid her arms around my neck, groaning into my mouth as I tasted her. And when I slipped my hands under her sweet ass and lifted her in my arms, she didn’t even hesitate to wrap her legs around my waist and hold me tight as I turned her and crossed the kitchen.

  “Mm, Luc...” She had one hand in my sweats, already pushing them down my hips before I even reached the table. As I laid her out over the surface, she wrapped her silky fingers around my already hard cock and guided me toward her steamy center. “Take me. I’m yours.”

  I kissed her deep and thrust hard, groaning at how slick and swollen she was for me. Loving that little gasp she made every time I filled her. Savoring how tight and wet and perfect her pussy felt around my throbbing length.

  It had been so long. I’d been desperate for this for days, for her... Drawing my hips back, I shoved in deep, savoring every ridge inside her, every contraction of her sheath that told me she was enjoying this. Each grunt and gasp and groan that tumbled from her delectable lips.

  “Yes...” Her fingernails dug into my shoulders, and she rocked her hips up against my thrusts.

  I drew back from her lips and gazed down at her, mesmerized by the pleasure in her features, the way her eyes were closed and her head was tipped back on the table. The way she was grinding her clit against me and couldn’t seem to get enough. “Oh yes, Luc, more...”

  A frenzy built inside me. One powered by her plea, by the need to be exactly what she wanted, everything she needed. By the urgency to give her a fraction of what she’d given me upstairs in that shower.

  “You are so fucking beautiful, angioletto. So sexy, so perfect. So hot...” Kissing her jaw, I trailed one hand to her breast and squeezed the sexy mound through her T-shirt. With the other, I pushed her leg back so I could drive deeper. So I could thrust harder. So I could fill her more completely than I ever had before. “I can’t get enough of you. I can’t ever get enough of you.”

  She groaned long and deep and lifted her hips on every downstroke. And as I kissed her throat, as I feasted on her silky skin, I prayed she would come soon, because I was so hot, I was seconds away from exploding, and I didn’t want that to happen until I felt her detonate around me.

  “Cazzo,” I muttered, bracing one hand on the table as I held her at the knee with the other and hammered into her. “Fuck, Natalie…”

  Something in my brain short-circuited. I couldn’t seem to stop slamming into her even though I wanted to. Biology took over. The primal need to mark her and brand her as mine consumed me, forcing me to fuck her even faster.

  “Oh God, Luc...”

  Her back arched beneath me. Her fingernails dug into my shoulders until pain shot down my spine. But neither made me stop. Neither cut through the animalistic need raging inside me.

  And then I heard her scream. I felt her pussy spasm around my aching cock. And the explosion that consumed me was so strong, so hot, it was as if she reached into my soul and triggered the orgasm inside me, then grabbed hold and wrenched the cum straight from my body.

  It lasted longer than I expected. I twitched as the aftershocks echoed through me, groaning at the way she continued to rock up against me, rubbing my cock so deep inside her. Just when I thought it was over, her sweet little pussy contracted around me again, and she trembled through another small orgasm beneath me. And just knowing she was coming again set off a second firestorm inside me, one that erupted in my balls and milked me of every last drop of pleasure.

  “Santo Dio,” I breathed against her chest, unable to get up, to move, to do anything but breathe. “What the hell did you just do to me?”

  “Me?” She chuckled and ran her fingers through my hair. “I think that was all you. And wow. I’m not sure I can walk after that.”

  I pushed up on one hand and looked at her. Her face was flushed, her lips plump, her damp hair wild and tangled around her pretty face. And her eyes were glazed and sated and staring at me as if I were a god.

  “Two?” Her lips curled. “Did you have two there?”

  “I-I think so.” My brain still wasn’t working right. I only knew whatever that was, I wanted to do it again.

  Her grin widened, then she bit her lip, pushed up on her elbows, and kissed me. “Mm. That’s so hot. I’m going to make you come twice as hard next time—both times. But first, we really need food.”

  I knew she was right. But as I groaned and pushed off her, I already missed her slick, tight heat.

  Tucking myself back in my sweats, I watched as she sat up and pulled her T-shirt down, hiding that sexy place between her legs. It hit me then that I hadn’t been a very generous lover. I hadn’t touched her or kissed her or licked her there. I’d just shoved myself inside her both times and fucked her until I was delirious.

  She climbed down off the table and fluffed her hair. Before she could moved back to the stove, I caught her hand and brought it to my lips.

  “What’s that for?” she asked with a sweet smile.

  “For you.” I kissed her knuckles one by one. “I promise that next time, I’ll do better.”

  “Better?” Her brow wrinkled. “Than that? I don’t think you can.”

  “Oh, I can.” I pulled her into me, lowered my lips to hers, and kissed her. “I can do a lot better.” And to prove it, I slid my hand between her legs and grazed her clit with my fingers.

  She sucked in a breath and shivered. “Oh...well...”

  “I promise I’ll make you come several times with my fingers and my mouth before I lose control again.”

  She pushed to her toes, wrapped her hand around my nape, and pulled my mouth down to hers for a scorching kiss that made me hard all over again. “Forget about food,” she whispered. “Take me. Fuck me. Do whatever you want to me, Luc. I’m yours. I’m all yours.”

  As I pushed my tongue into her mouth and kissed her, I knew she was mine. I knew she would always be mine.

  Just as I knew that no matter how I tried to convince myself otherwise, I would never be good enough to deserve her.

  8

  Natalie

  I managed to get Luc to eat. After he had his way with me right there on the kitchen floor.

  He didn’t eat a lot—half the omelet I made him and a piece of toast—but I was pretty sure that was more than he’d eaten in a week, so I didn’t push him to eat more.

  After we cleaned the dishes together, we stretched out on the couch and watched a movie. Some action flick that had recently moved to cable. I didn’t really pay attention to it and neither did Luc. I was too busy running my fingers through his hair, and he was too busy sleeping with his head on my chest and his big body wrapped around mine like a blanket.

  He slept a lot over
the next few days, and I had a sinking suspicion he was making up for lost time, that he hadn’t slept much at all without me. I realized rather quickly that he couldn’t sleep unless some part of his body was touching mine. If I tried to get up during the day when he was napping wrapped around me, or if I moved at all in the night, he’d startle, come full awake, even have a moment of panic that made my heart race because it was so unlike him.

  He didn’t like for me to be out of his sight. He was near me constantly, which was a dramatic shift from the first days after we’d arrived here when he hadn’t wanted anything to do with me, and I wasn’t sure what to make of that. And every time I saw that brief moment of panic in his eyes, I was almost afraid to broach the topic for fear it would send him spiraling away from me once again.

  “Where is he right now?” Felicity asked in my ear as I held the phone against my cheek.

  “Jogging on the beach. He’s strung tight as a drum. I had to force him outside to expel some of that pent-up energy.”

  “And he went without you? That’s a good sign.”

  I huffed. “I’m sitting on the beach, wrapped in a blanket, talking to you. He keeps glancing back to make sure I’m still here. Luc has always been possessive, but this is different. This is like paranoia I’m going to up and disappear. It’s not like him.”

  “Hm,” Felicity said. “No, it’s not. How’s the sex? You two are having sex again, aren’t you?”

  My cheeks heated even out here in the cool October air. “Yes.”

  “And?”

  I bit my lip, unsure how to answer without giving away too much. Some things in our relationship were precious to me, and I knew Luc wouldn’t like me gossiping about this, especially.

  When I didn’t answer, Felicity said, “I’m a doctor, Nat. Nothing you tell me is going to shock me. And a big part of the reason Marco and I left you two alone was so you could reconnect sexually. Regaining control of his sexuality is the first step in Luc’s healing.”