The Fall by Elisabeth Naughton

Author:Elisabeth Naughton [Naughton, Elisabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Elisabeth Naughton Publishing, LLC
Published: 2020-05-17T04:00:00+00:00

8

Luc

I should have stayed away from her, but she called out to me like a singing siren, drawing me to her.

Even when I knew it was safer for both of us to be apart, I couldn’t stay away. My body needed her like it needed air to breathe. I needed her like a meth addict needs his next hit. Every rational thought and plan shattered in my mind, overwhelmed by one thought and purpose and desire.

Her.

I wasn’t stupid, though. I knew the dangers. So I waited.

Thankfully, my father hadn’t called me back down to discuss anything other than operations at Covet. After a brandy on the loggia with him and Dante, I’d said good night to my mother and sister and retreated to my room in the south wing. Then I’d lain on my bed and waited until I heard my parents and siblings retire for the night. I’d waited even longer until I was sure they were all asleep.

The villa was quiet and dark when I finally ventured out around two a.m. I wasn’t as nimble as I’d been as a teenager when I’d last snuck into the north wing, and twice I almost slipped on the trellis and dropped to my death. I could just envision my parents finding my broken body in the morning, knowing exactly what I’d been up to. The forbidden and the risk only heightened my hunger for Natalie.

Her balcony door was unlocked and open when I reached her veranda. Frustration shot through me that she’d disobeyed my order, followed by a wicked burst of heat I knew I shouldn’t feel.

My blood thumped hot and fast as I pushed the balcony door closed behind me and flipped the lock.

The room was quiet and dark. I glanced toward the desk pushed up against the main door, then to the four-poster bed, where the covers were thrown back, the sheets cold and bare. Soft light shone from beneath the closed bathroom door, drawing my attention. When the muffled sound of water splashing met my ears, I envisioned her in the bathtub, wet and soft and naked, and all the blood in my body rushed right into my cock.

As quietly as I could, I crossed the floor and pulled the bathroom door open. Just as I’d pictured, she was reclined in the deep claw-foot tub, her head resting against the rolled edge, her eyes closed.

That silky hair I loved to run my fingers through was pinned up, and damp tendrils brushed the delicate line of her throat and jaw. Water droplets glistened on her delectable skin in the flickering light of the dozen candles she’d lit around the room, and the sweet scents of lavender filled the space.

But all I could focus on was the water splashing gently and rhythmically against the side of the cast-iron tub. Her heavy breaths lifting the tips of her pink nipples out of the water. The soft moans slipping from her lips. And her hand moving beneath the surface as she stroked that sweet, warm spot between her legs that made me absolutely ravenous.

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