The Secrets We Keep: Secrets and Revelations Book One

by Selina Marie

  Lukas slides his tongue out slowly and licks his lower lip, drawing my eyes to the movement, and I hear my breathing increase. He reacts with his signature smirk, but there isn’t an ounce of arrogance there, only desire and maybe a small dose of pride.

  His hands move from behind him where they were supporting his weight, and wrap around my hips, squeezing a little as he slowly pulls me down, so that I can feel the heat of his body and the size of his cock that’s now pressed up against me when he tilts my hips down and closer to him. The friction between the rough denim of his jeans, the stiffness of his erection against my bare and extremely sensitive pussy is enough to make my body twitch, and a whimper escapes my lips. Lukas’s gaze drifts from my face as he presses my pussy against him again. He pushes his hips up a fraction, intensifying the action even more. I moan loud enough that if anyone is in the hall, they’ll hear me.

  He looks like he is hanging on by a thread which is fraying rapidly. Lowering my hands, I drag them over his muscles, feeling them flex under my fingertips until I reach the hem of his shirt, lifting it up and dropping it to the floor somewhere behind me. Lukas’s muscles are defined and tense, and I want to lick every single dip and ridge on his body. His abs look like they’ve been carved by Hades himself, because if there is anything memorable about this man’s body, it’s that it is deadly, dangerous and addictive.

  I then see the moment where raw hunger takes over and the thread snaps.

  In a second, I’m flipped over onto my back and he takes the power back. This little battle between us over who takes control is filling me with a wild and erotic need for him. All inhibitions fizzle to nothing when we’re together like this.

  I rake my eyes up and over his body, pausing on every part of exposed skin as I move up to his gorgeous lips that are parted and wet as he watches me, still in my towel, like some ravenous animal. Dark strands of his hair drop down onto his forehead as I look deep into those black, blown pupils. Then I watch him lose control.

  Fucking finally.

  He rips the towel away, exposing my naked body to him, grabbing my wrists and pinning them to the bed on either side of my head, restraining me so I can’t move. I wouldn’t fucking move if he paid me.

  Lukas dips down, into the crook of my neck and licks up the length to my ear, sucking my earlobe into his mouth, biting down. I’m on fire and I don’t care about who has control anymore. I‘m ready for him to claim me. A deep raspy voice growls in my ear, adding to the fire burning inside of me.

  “When were you last fucked?” he asks, seductively. I don’t answer. Lukas sniggers.

  “That long, huh? Don’t worry, baby, I plan on taking my time with you,” he teases as he moves his head down my body, his eyes on mine as he flicks the tip of his tongue across my nipple before sucking it into his mouth. I gasp, moving my hands to grip on his hair, holding him in place, as he continues igniting the flames in my belly moving south. Lukas lifts his head, his mouth leaving my nipple with a pop, he raises his brow in warning, glancing at my hands that are no longer above my head.

  I move them back and Lukas grins playfully as he turns his attention to my breasts again. While his mouth sucks and licks one breast, his hand is on the other, squeezing and rolling the peak of my nipple between his fingers making me squirm beneath him. He laughs, his mouth still on me sending vibrations through me, straight to my core.

  “Good girl,” he praises me, my back arches pushing my breast into his mouth, not wanting the contact to end. When his mouth releases my nipple, the cold air hits and it’s even more intense. He stops, his hands glide over my skin, over my ribs, caressing the sensitive skin until he reaches my hips, but they don’t stop there, Lukas sits back on his heels, his eyes on my pussy that’s laid bare to him. He skims his fingers down my thighs, torturously, and just when I’m about to stop him, he grips underneath my thighs and pushes them up, my legs spread wide, my knees to my chest. I scream out when his tongue glides up my slit, his entire mouth is on me—devouring me—his tongue lapping up my juices, then he sucks my clit into his mouth, holding lightly between his teeth as the tip of his tongue tips me over the edge. I come hard, my body shaking and writhing as I scream through my climax.

  Oh, my fucking God.

  Lukas moves back kicking his jeans and boxers off, throwing them somewhere on the floor. He kneels, completely naked. He’s pure ecstasy. My eyes follow the path down to that delicious Adonis belt that points straight to his cock, and in that moment I am terrified. He is fucking huge. He grips his dick, running his hand up and down, smirking,

  “Don’t look so scared, baby. I’m clean, I get tested regularly. What about you? Are you on the pill?” he asks casually, as if he has done this a thousand times. Of course, he has. I trust he’s telling the truth though.

  “Umm, yeah,” I say breathlessly still coming down from my orgasm. I am on the pill, that’s true—but it’s because my cycle is super irregular; but he doesn’t need to know that.

  There’s no going back now. I know it’s going to hurt, but I’ve heard it’s only painful for a minute. I can do this.

  “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this,” he tells me, and it makes me feel so good to be wanted by him. Lowering his body down so he’s level with me, his dick is still in his hand as he swipes the tip up through my slit, and I can’t help but start panting again; it’s a thrilling mixture of pleasure and fear. He feels so silky against me, and I know that isn’t close to how he’s going to feel in a few seconds. He lines himself up with my entrance and I have to force myself to keep breathing and pray to God that I don’t look as petrified as I feel.

  Without warning and in one movement, he thrusts all the way in, tearing through the barrier. I squeeze my eyes shut, repressing a scream, focusing on my breathing and not the pain. It isn’t until then that I realize he is deadly still and completely silent.

  I keep my eyes shut, knowing if I open them the tears will fall.

  “Emilia, what the fuck?” His voice is tense but somehow tender as well. He knows. “Open your eyes. Look at me.” I do as he asks. He still stretches me from the inside, unmoving. A tear falls from the outer corner of my eye, trailing toward my ear, as I lie there looking up at his beautiful features, his frown so deep, eyes etched in confusion and unease.

  I feel his thumb drag across my cheek, wiping my tear away. Still motionless when he speaks again, “Emilia, are you a virgin?” I don’t know why, but I feel a little embarrassed in that moment and it isn’t because I’m a virgin, but because now that he knows, I feel I could have handled it better, maybe it was unfair to him in some way. I try to lighten the mood a little, giving him a small smile. “Not anymore,” I answer him.

  His head drops down to my chest for a moment, his hair tickling my chin before he raises it, looking into my eyes, and asks, “Do you want me to stop?”

  No, I don’t. I shake my head because it’s the last thing I want right now. The sting has dulled and it’s bearable. The corner of his mouth turns up into the most devilish grin.

  “Thank fuck.” Then he starts to move. He starts off slow and I feel the pain fading away until all that’s left is the pleasure that’s building as he hits all the right spots, filling me so perfectly like he’s molded for me.

  “Mmm… ah… that feels… I need more.” I’m unable to form coherent sentences but I hear Lukas growl in response as he grabs my wrists, placing them back up above my head. I can’t help but scream when he thrusts so deep, it hits my cervix. The mixture of pleasure and pain is overwhelming, but only makes me want it more. I want to dance on the line that separates the two.

  He pounds into me again, and again and again until I feel my climax building deep in my belly.

  “Ah! Fuck, Lukas, don’t stop!” He plunges into me harder and faster, until I’m screaming so fucking loud that I’m internally thanking God he lives alone.

  Lukas slows his hips, gradually letting me ride out my orgasm.

  “Fuck, baby, you
’re squeezing my dick so tight. Shit. I’m gonna come.” I feel his body tense, muscles tightening as he pulls out of me and comes all over my stomach, and it’s the most erotic sight watching him spurt all over me.

  Lukas crashes down into the mattress beside me, breathless, both of us sweating. I definitely need another shower. I go to move, my body protesting because I’m sore. It isn’t the only thing to protest though, Lukas throws his arm over my body pulling me into him.

  “Don’t even think about going anywhere, baby,” he warns me, and I can hear a smile on his lips as he speaks. I laugh at his objection, but I still try to wriggle out of his hold telling him, “I need a shower. Again.” I giggle as he squeezes my side. This is such a different side to him that I’ve never experienced, and I want to absorb every moment of it, but I will after I’ve showered.

  Eventually Lukas relents, letting me up, his gaze darkening again, as he watches my ass while I walk away, as if he is ready for round two. Unreal.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Lukas

  She’s a virgin… was a virgin.

  Shit.

  I wouldn’t have believed it, had I not felt the resistance when I pushed inside her, and I wasn’t gentle. I didn’t think for one second that Emilia fucking Blake would be a virgin. The girl is a wet dream on legs, oh and those legs. I wanted her again, over and over. Also, so that I could show her how I fuck—how I really fuck. I can make her feel so damn good and she has no idea how fucking good at it I am, or what she’s in for.

  I’d assumed thinking she was somewhat like Alexis, even though I knew that wasn’t true. You know what they say about making assumptions. I definitely feel like an asshole, such a motherfucking dick right now. But she wanted it and I made sure of that. I may be a corrupt asshole, but I draw the line when it comes to a woman’s body; I never take what I wanted unless I know with certainty that she is fully on board.

  I fucked up though—by thinking I knew more about her than I actually did, where her virtue was concerned. But it was too late by then, and I can’t lie and say I didn’t enjoy every single second inside of her. She gripped me so tight that I felt like a fucking teenager again, about to lose his load in two seconds flat.

  Emilia fucked up too though, she should have told me, and it was shitty on her part to keep that from me. I don’t sleep with virgins; I did once, and I vowed to myself I never would again. The girl got borderline crazy obsessed with me, harassed me until I put a stop to it. I had made sure to pay her off a substantial amount of money that would keep her mouth shut and ordered her to move schools. She could’ve afforded to move to a fucking tropical island with the amount I paid her. The last fucking thing I needed was some obsessive, clingy girl going to the press telling them anything about me fucking a virgin. Or worse she could have easily turned it into a rape scandal, and that really would have fucked everything up—for her more than anyone.

  My father would’ve easily extinguished any rumors or articles that might have sparked up anywhere in the media, and I don’t doubt he wouldn’t have given it a moment’s thought to eliminate the source of the issue, that being the girl. He was a heartless, cruel bastard, who reigned over the underworld of the Russian Mafia, but he still had to watch his back. We had a lot of enemies who would do whatever they could to bring down Viktor Elin and his Empire. My father had a lot of enemies, period. Little did he know he’d been living with his deadliest enemy right under his nose—me.

  He never saw it coming, although he must have suspected my pure hatred of him. In the years that followed my mother’s death, I very enthusiastically fantasized over the many different ways I could rid the world of such a waste of a human heart. I battled the urge to end him at every moment I could. I would even dream about the pressure of my hands around his throat squeezing until I felt that little pop underneath my fingers. The sound of bone snapping as I shattered every remnant of his so- called humanity, until he was nothing but a heap of flesh on the ground. The darkness of my thoughts took me back to a memory I would rather forget.

  Eight years ago…

  “Lukas, sweetheart, do you mind getting your big brother? Anita is serving dinner shortly,” my mother asks softly as she strokes her hand down my face tenderly, softening her touch just a little, when her fingers feather over my cheekbone, which is turning a yellowish-brown color, the result of my inability to follow my father’s orders.

  Last week Viktor Elin, my father, had demanded that Nate, Elijah and myself get into the blacked-out SUV that would be picking us up from the house. We weren’t to question anyone, we were just to do as we were told. Nate came over to our house fifteen minutes before we were due to be picked up to go to whatever my father had planned. We all locked eyes, a grim, sick feeling passed through my stomach as if my gut was trying to communicate something. We all could sense the unease. I glanced to my older brother, something dark flickered in his irises and he broke eye contact with me, his head pointed to the floor. He didn’t speak the entire thirty-minute journey.

  Nate however leaned back in his seat, his head against the headrest, his eyes fixed to the roof of the car, and he let out an angry breath. “Where the fuck are we going?” He paused and I could tell he was getting impatient, his leg bouncing up and down.

  “Was your dad as cryptic as mine?” He spat out.

  “Pretty much, you know Viktor, he won’t do anything to benefit anyone but himself,” I answered.

  My eyes caught Elijah curling his hand into a fist until I heard the pop of his knuckles. My brother was two years older than us and still hadn’t uttered a word, like he didn’t trust what might come out of his mouth. As I watched him in my peripheral vision, Nate answered me.

  “Yeah, I know Viktor, un-fucking-fortunately.”

  Turning my head, I watched out the window as we drove down a muddied track, the dust kicked out from under the wheels, clouding the air outside of the window. The car started to slow, I bent closer to the middle so that I could see out the front window. All I could see through the dust was a building, looked like a barn or something.

  No, as the dust settled a little, I could see it was a warehouse. The car was still while we all waited in silence, Nate and I looking curiously at the warehouse. I looked to my brother once again, his eyes were glued to the floor, his fists still clenched in tight fists, then I swore I saw a little droplet fall from his closed hand, dropping and soaking into the black carpet under our shoes. Was that blood?

  The door swung open and a man who packed some serious heat stood next to it, his feet shoulder width apart with his hands laced together in front of him. His stance was dominating and dangerous. He had a deep scar across his left eye and was fucking scary, I mean to two fourteen-year-olds and a sixteen-year-old. He nodded his head in the direction of the warehouse and I took that as our cue to get out of the vehicle and move our asses. Elijah was out of the car first and something swam uncomfortably in my stomach. He started walking toward the large metal doors, his shoulders were high and tense and the sight made me swallow; my brother didn’t get anxious. Nate and I walked in, side by side, following Elijah. The space was enormous, dark and cold. There were three metal chairs placed in a row in the middle of the warehouse, with about two feet separating them. It was eerily quiet but then a sound caught my attention, my eyes darted to the dark and dirty stone a few feet in front of me, where my brother stood. Another drop of blood hit the ground, my eyes traced up his body, his back still facing me and I saw the red that smeared his hands, blood covering his palms—what I could see of them anyway.

  How the fuck did he do that?

  What does he have in his hands?

  The questions swimming around in my head seized the moment footsteps echoed across the stone floor. Expensive leather shoes smacked heavily against the ground as my eyes moved to look at the culprits.

  Viktor Elin—my father, Alexander Grayson—Nate’s dad, and Andrew Caper—a close friend of our fathers. They strode in, heads held high, shoulders b
ack, their faces were hard, but each of them wore a smirk that played on the edges of their mouths. My father’s eyes raked over us all slowly, smug bastard. My gaze moved to Andrew next, who looked like he was about to crack up with laughter and it made me want to smack the look straight off his arrogant fucking face. Finally my eyes moved to Alexander, his face was the most sinister because he didn’t show any emotion anymore, his mask was practiced to perfection. The way his eyes watched his son though, like he wanted to skin him alive, made me want to shield my best friend.

  Viktor spoke first, “Boys, take a seat.” He gestured toward the three chairs that sat directly in front of the three monsters. We moved, doing as they said but as my brother moved toward the chairs, my father brought his hand out pressing it firmly into Elijah’s shoulder, stopping him. “Not you, son. You stay standing.” He had a grin stretched across his clean-shaven face, small scars scattered across his skin but you could only see them close up.

  Elijah stayed standing in front of our father as Nate and I sat on the chairs. I could feel the sweat sticking my shirt to my back as we sat waiting. The taste of bile that rose up my throat when my father unfolded my brother’s fists that were now covered and dripped in his blood. The clang of metal against stone rang out after—my eyes followed the sound to find two razor blades in a small pool of my brother’s blood.

  “Good boy, but I’m not finished yet.” My father sneered as the other men watched, smirks in place. Curiosity danced in Andrew’s eyes, where sick, twisted pleasure was written across Alexander’s as he looked at my brother’s skin, deep red gashes across his palms.

  I swallowed as my eyes locked with Elijah’s, his eyes vacant. But I knew from the clench in his jaw and the flash of guilt that lingered only a moment, that there was more coming.