Lucian’s Reign

by Mason, V. F.

And it seems I just found mine.

  Lucian

  If someone came to me today and asked for a definition of an art form in this world, I would tell them to look at her.

  For my eyes have never seen perfection that compares to her haunting beauty that is driving me insane with each breath she takes.

  Her lilac-colored hair cascades down her spine in heavy locks, almost reaching her ass, creating waves around her every time she moves, as if someone discovered an ocean in heaven and invited you to join her in it.

  Paint in different colors and shapes smears her pale skin, declaring her occupation and showcasing the wildly beating pulse for everyone to see, making it easy for hunters lurking nearby to guess her emotions. Or they’d crave to press a knife there, watching goose bumps spread on her skin as blood trickles from her wounds, reminding them she’s real and not a fragment of their imagination.

  All their attempts would be fruitless anyway, because I won’t ever let anyone near her, let alone dare to harm a hair on her body designed only for me.

  God, her body.

  A short, purple dress hugs her body, letting the world see her generous curves from the full, perky breasts to the slim waist slowly leading to the wide hips and long legs.

  Legs that would wrap around me tightly while I drive inside her over and over again, listening to her whimpers of pleasure filling my ears.

  Pleasure she would learn from me and only me, forever claimed by the monster that lives in me.

  Her slightly open-from-shock mouth with its plump lips begs for me to connect it with mine and bestow a deep kiss that would satisfy the craving already forming in her eyes.

  Her eyes, they are the most striking feature on her face. Their navy-blue color is so clear and bright, they make me think about an ocean at sunrise, and her every emotion reflects in them, telling me there is no mean or deceiving bone in her.

  Her pure soul and heart should never have been standing in my way. Her tempting scent and promise of soothing peace are impossible to resist for the possessive beast raging inside me that wants to hide her from anyone else and claim her right now as mine for always.

  When I was a child, nothing belonged to me, and anything I wanted was never given to me, because this life showed me from an early age how cruel it can be to those who least deserve it.

  In time, I learned to never truly crave or desire anything, as it could always be used as a weakness against you, and besides, goodness always has a price.

  However, in this moment, looking at this woman who has spoken to my dark soul with her appearance alone and awoken protective instincts I never knew I had… I want.

  I desire.

  I crave.

  And for fucking once, I’m going to get.

  The rules of the game just changed.

  The hunter no longer has bait but a weakness he’s going to guard with everything in him.

  For Esmeralda belongs to me now.

  Willing or not, she will be mine.

  And I will kill anyone daring to think they can take her away from me.

  Chapter Five

  “He looks at me like I belong to him and nothing can save me from him.

  This man… I hate and desire and need to avoid at all costs.

  Even if my body burns in flames in his presence.”

  Esmeralda

  From Evangeline’s diaries…

  My heart beats so wildly in my chest, my insides bursting from happiness as I write these words, because the boy I’ve been crushing on asked me out.

  Love at first sight, or at least it felt like it, when my eyes landed on his handsome form three months ago as I strolled through the park.

  He was sitting on the bench, reading a book, his blond hair swaying slightly from the wind while his thick glasses slid down his nose so he had to adjust them every few seconds.

  The white shirt and jeans showcased his lean figure, but nevertheless some unexplainable energy swirled around him, making me unable to peel my gaze away from him until he raised his eyes to me.

  Mesmerizing green orbs filled with so many secrets I wished to crack. Right in that moment, my heart squeezed inside my chest.

  We stared at one another for what seemed like forever before his cheeks heated up and he glued his stare back on the book in his slightly trembling hand.

  Embarrassed beyond measure, I quickly rushed to my destination, the art center, to pick up Esme from her extra activity class. Our mom enrolled her in it, since she showed so much potential when it comes to painting.

  Thousands of thoughts played in my mind, each more depressing than the other. Mainly how I met the boy of my dreams, but ran away before we got the chance to talk or explore it.

  Mama always told us how the women in our family fell in love only once and instantly, as if lightning struck us, piercing our flesh with an invisible mark belonging only to one man.

  A man who would have our heart forever, no matter what he does or who he becomes.

  This was one of the reasons she never remarried after Dad’s car accident two years ago; according to her, there was no point in a relationship if her heart died right along with the man forever possessing it.

  So that night, a lot of tears slid down my cheeks as I glided on the swing, wondering if I’d ever see the boy again.

  But surprisingly, destiny decided to be kind to me, because ever since then, I stumbled onto him in various places from shopping malls to restaurants.

  He never spoke a word, just held my gaze. Maybe expecting something from me, but I couldn’t open my mouth.

  But today, everything finally changed.

  After picking up Esme from her class, she walked in front of me, her heavy backpack bouncing on her shoulders with every step. Then she stopped abruptly and looked at me. “Do you have a boyfriend now?” she asked curiously, and I blinked in surprise.

  “No. Of course not.”

  “Then why is that boy always following us?” She pointed with her thumb behind us, and I spun around to see the guy, his hands clasped together, trailing behind us several feet away, not knowing how to pass us by and probably pretending he wasn’t doing what Esme accused him of doing.

  Before I could stop her, she marched toward him, tilted her head back, and fired a question at him. “Are you a stalker?”

  Horrified, I clasped her mouth with my palm and addressed the guy. “I’m so sorry.” Then I hissed, “Esme.”

  She shrugged as she pressed herself tighter toward my hip, still watching the stranger warily.

  Something flashed in his eyes, and then he finally spoke up, his voice so husky it sent shivers down my spine.

  The best kind.

  “Not a stalker.” He licked his lips before connecting his eyes with mine. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

  What could I possibly say but yes?

  So tomorrow, he’s coming to pick me up, and we will go see a movie. Which means I have only twelve hours to choose what to wear and convince Mom that going out with a boy I don’t even know is a good idea. Despite me being nineteen, she still hovers over me like a helicopter, trying to protect me from the monsters of this earth.

  As if monsters would be interested in boring little me.

  Today is officially the happiest day of my life.

  Esmeralda

  “Are you ready to order?” A soft voice pierces through the silence stretching between us and snaps me out of the haze this man has created around us. I sit back a little, turning my gaze toward the server holding a small notepad. She looks between us, clearly reading some tension in the air. “I can come back later if you want.”

  Although I wish to grab my bag and race away from here and all the confusing emotions this man inspires and the deep longing demanding to be soothed in a way I don’t know how, my feet stay glued to the spot, already guessing this man would follow me wherever I go. The glint in his brown eyes indicates this much to me.

  Besides, we do have business to discuss, and I really
don’t want to face Jacob, who keeps glancing our way, still probably trying to put all the pieces together and wondering how I ended up with Lucian no less.

  “No,” I tell her, tearing my gaze away from the man, and turn to sit in my seat when his touch stops me. The hotness of his fingers sliding over my shoulder and leaving invisible imprints on my flesh forces a gasp to slip from my lips as he adjusts the strap. “That’s not necessary.” His eyes sparkle in amusement at my stern tone, not fooled by my coldness about my true reaction.

  “Retract the claws for now, gatita. You will need them later.” He sweeps his orbs over me, possessiveness shining in them as if promising to show me later what he means.

  The audacity this man has! “I’m not your kitten.”

  He rasps his knuckles over my cheek before pinching my nose slightly. “You are. And adorable at that.”

  Slapping his hand away, I hiss, “Don’t touch me.”

  “No puedo prometer eso.”

  I can’t promise that.

  I don’t have any experience with the opposite sex, but doesn’t this behavior border on insane and stalkerish?

  The server clears her throat. “I can really come back later.” She moves uncomfortably, and I glare at the man harder.

  My stomach growls loudly, and my cheeks heat up, embarrassment zipping through me. “No need. I’ll have tonight’s special and a green tea please.”

  She quickly writes it down and then looks at Lucian, who tells her, “Steak and whiskey.” She nods and then rushes off.

  I slide farther inside the booth, sighing in relief when I toe off my shoes. My feet are killing me in these wedges, but all my other shoes magically disappeared.

  Or more likely Lila threw out all my sneakers and stuck me with more feminine choices. She knows I don’t care what I wear as long as it allows me free movement so I can paint or sculpt easily.

  When she offered to add some style to my clothes, I didn’t mind. I just didn’t expect her to go all in and change my entire wardrobe.

  I wiggle my toes and watch as Lucian settles in the booth opposite me, drilling his stare into me as he peers deep into my soul and finds answers, even to those questions about myself I have no idea about.

  The server comes back, placing our drinks in front of us before hurrying off again.

  He picks up his glass and tilts it gently, letting the ice tap against each other. He takes a sip, momentarily closing his eyes while I watch his Adam’s apple as he swallows, and the familiar heat starts up inside me.

  God, is this what desire feels like?

  Countless women around me have spoken about it—how with one glance alone, they could want a man—but it’s beyond logical explanation.

  Why did it have to be the one man I could never cross the line with?

  Because playing any kind of game with Lucian is dangerous, and I don’t want a relationship of any kind.

  So the fire he’s started will have to be extinguished by something else.

  Run, Esme, run.

  Shaking my head, I wrap my hand around the hot mug and decide to bring the conversation back to the important topic and scratch this bizarre exchange all together. “You wanted to meet me regarding the scholarship grant.” Since he stays silent, I continue, slightly annoyed by his little chuckle as if the idea itself is ridiculous. “Thank you for your offer, but I decline.”

  His brow rises, and he puts his glass on the table and taps his finger on top of it. “Meaning?”

  “You dragged me to this dinner to confirm your desire to invest in our project. That never happened to me before. You have trust issues. I do not want to subject a young artist to this kind of treatment.”

  “Ah, it’s about your pride.”

  Fury at his condescending tone slides through me, pouring into my veins, and I bite my cheek to stop myself from saying something I might regret later.

  Being brave is one thing, but going against one of the most powerful men in the country is entirely different. As I discovered under Grandmother’s roof, their wrath might be deadly to my business and to the people involved in it.

  “Pride has nothing to do with it. You wielding your power over some kid concerns me. And I prefer to play it safe.”

  He leans on the table, his dominant presence filling the booth with something wicked, while I plaster my back firmer against the cushion, keeping my distance, because moths inevitably get burned by the flames. “Careful, gatita, do not ever accuse me of wielding my power over a child.” Steel laces his voice, sinking fear into my flesh, while the anger residing in his eyes almost scares me as I don’t ever want to be on the receiving end of it. “You cannot play it safe for eternity. Sooner or later, the desire to live and experience life will win over, and you might break from the intensity of it.”

  “Speaking from experience?”

  A hollow laugh settles between us. “No. If I played it safe, I’d be dead.”

  I freeze at this casually thrown statement, and the server chooses this moment to come back with a heavy tray, depositing the delicious smelling repast in front of me and doing the same to Lucian, but despite my hunger, I can barely focus on my food.

  Instead, my mind franticly searches for the information I’ve gathered over the years about him or his family to explain his cryptic answers, especially the last one, but come up blank.

  His father might have been a ruthless man who could destroy anyone’s wealth with a flick of his finger; however, no one ever said anything bad about him or Cortez family as a whole.

  Picking up a fork, I swirl it in my pasta, needing to say something after his statement yet failing to find any words. “Don’t think too hard about it,” he advises as if guessing my thoughts. He cuts his steak, the blood seeping onto the plate. “Although, your compassionate nature is very admirable, even if it’s foolish.”

  And just like that, fury once again replaces my confusion or curiosity. “I’m selfish. If I was compassionate, I’d accept your help instead of thinking how I want to stab you with this fork.” I shovel the food into my mouth, groaning and closing my eyes when the taste hits my tongue, then chew it slowly to enjoy every bite.

  And when I look again, my gaze clashes with his heated one, slamming the earlier sensations into me so hard my other hand grips the table, hating how desire travels through me, flowing over my skin and promising all kinds of pleasure if I just take the leap.

  Which I’m not going to do.

  Ever.

  This time around, he is the one to break the silence. “If you do not want my help, I’ll accept that.” My brows furrow at such an easy capitulation. “But you have to answer my question first.”

  Apparently, there’s always a catch when it comes to Lucian Cortez.

  I’m starting to understand the whole charming asshole narrative.

  Taking a few more bites of my pasta, I wait for him to finally get to it. We can put an end to this evening then and I can go back to my boring little world undisturbed by his presence. “Why do you find the idea of giving money to an organization without checking on how it operates acceptable? But to inquire about how the funds actually reach these children to fulfill their dreams, you see as an intrusion and a sign of distrust.” My fork pauses midway to my mouth at this. “A trust is a gift earned by loyalty and a moral code. And no one owes it to you or your little galleries just because once upon a time you became a sensation in the art world.” He dives into his steak, while I, musing over his words, lose my appetite all together.

  Why indeed?

  The answer to that question comes too quickly though and doesn’t paint me in the best of light. And to my utter astonishment, it spills from my lips before I can stop it. “My grandmother loved to say that people who we help in life should be watched carefully as they are forever in our debt. Whatever goodness she brought to the world was tainted by how she behaved toward them. I guess I prefer people to stay out, because being indebted to someone is a heavy burden to carry, and I don’t ever want
to be the cause of that.” He stills at my explanation, and I wipe my mouth with a napkin and drop it on the table. “I apologize for projecting this on you. If you still want to help, I’ll ask Eugene to give you all the information you might need.”

  Because interacting with this man who brings so much chaos to me and makes me question my actions and change my decision just in the first thirty minutes of our meeting is not healthy to my mind, body, soul, or heart.

  Yes, Esme, spike up the dramatics, will you.

  Grabbing my bag, I get up, ready to bolt, when his strong hand catches mine, pulling me toward him, and I end up on his lap with a loud huff while my bag falls on the ground. “What in the hell are you doing?” I push at his chest that’s hard as granite under my palm, and he adjusts me better on his lap instead, his muscled arm trapping me in the embrace. “Let me go!” I hiss in his face and groan inwardly when several people move their heads in our direction, gaping at us.

  Lucian notices where my attention goes and quickly snaps the curtains shut, secluding us from the intrusive stares.

  “Since we are no longer business associates—”

  “We were never that!”

  He ignores my outburst. He lifts his hand to my face and runs his knuckles over my cheek. “I think we should talk about these feelings between us, gatita.”

  “There are no feelings. Are you insane? Let me go!” I repeat, wiggling in his hold, but his strength barely allows me to move as it is. “Lucian!”

  He slides his knuckles to my chin before traveling lower toward my neck. Goose bumps pop up on my flesh when his thumb presses against my wildly beating pulse. “Ah, but there are.” He moves even lower to my collarbone and just above my breast, giving it a butterfly touch that’s barely noticeable, yet it sets everything inside me aflame. My nipples peak against the dress, forming visible shadows and uncovering my hidden desire toward this man.

  “Lust is a powerful tool, gatita, and I intend to use it to get what I want.” He lifts his other hand from my waist and places it on my back, sliding up to my nape and squeezing lightly. Then he grabs a handful of my hair and pulls it hard, making me arch my back and expose my neck to him. “You are a living, breathing art form that should be displayed in a famous museum for men to admire your beauty, which eclipses anything and anyone else.”