Bad Intentions (The Prescotts Book 4) Read online

  He was a fucking Adonis. And he was hers. She hoped.

  As she handed him the water, her gaze moved from his body to the wall behind her bed. Her eyes widened and then she pressed her fingers to her lips and started to laugh.

  He arched one eyebrow, but otherwise didn’t move, apparently feeling as relaxed and boneless as she did. “What?”

  She gestured to the wall behind him. “We put a hole in the wall.”

  At that, he sat up and glanced behind him, taking in the square hole where the corner of her headboard had smashed through the drywall. When he turned back to face her, the skin around his eyes was crinkled, a wide smile on his face as he chuckled.

  “We fucked a hole into the wall,” she said, sitting down on the bed beside him and then chugging some of her water. They both laughed again and then he pulled her into his arms, settling her on his chest. God, it felt good to lie with him like that, his heart thumping steadily against her cheek. Unable to help herself, she crawled her fingers across his abs, exploring the dips and valleys that she wanted to memorize. It still felt a little surreal, getting to touch him like this after so long.

  She raked her fingers through the thatch of dark hair at the base of his cock, tracing the little happy trail that led to his navel and back down again. Every single thing about him was perfect. Better than she ever could’ve imagined. Turning her face into his chest, she bit playfully at his nipple, excitement rippling through her at the soft groan he let out.

  “So, when can we do that again, old man?” she asked, pushing up to meet his eyes. “Next week?” Heat and humor sparked in his eyes, and she grinned. She’d never get enough of teasing him and pushing his buttons.

  “Next week,” he growled and pulled her onto his lap so she was straddling him. “Fuck that. Give me an hour. I’m old, not dead.”

  She kissed him, a soft, lingering kiss. Because she wanted to. Because she could. His hands stroked slowly up and down her back, the caress sweet and gentle, completely unhurried.

  “So,” she asked a few moments later, pushing through the doubt and hesitation clinging to her. “What happens now?”

  He wove his fingers into her hair, his thumb feathering over her cheekbone. “You’ll come stay with me. It’s not safe for you here, alone.”

  She bit her lip and closed her eyes briefly, savoring the feel of his skin against hers, his hands on her, the scent of their sex filling the air. “No, I meant…” She swallowed. “With us.”

  “I meant what I said, sweetheart. Every single word.” He dipped his head and started kissing his way down her neck. “I meant it when I said that you’re mine. I meant it when I said that I’ll protect you. I meant it when I said that I’m in love with you.”

  Happiness lit her up from the inside, making her feel like she was glowing, floating like an ember on the wind. “So we’re…” She bit back a moan as he scraped his teeth over her earlobe. “We’re together now.”

  He lifted his head and grinned at her. “Do I need to fuck another hole into your wall to show you what ‘you’re mine’ means?” He kissed her, his mouth warm and firm against hers. “I might’ve just started a mob war, so I’m damn well going to keep the girl I started it for.”

  She pulled back a little, her eyebrows inching up her forehead as a shiver worked its way through her. “A mob war?”

  “I’ll explain everything when we get to my place.” He gave her ass a smack that was intended to be playful but had her moaning as heat pulsed through her core. His eyes darkened slightly and he squeezed the flesh he’d just smacked. “Mmm, you like that, don’t you sweetheart?”

  She nodded. “I like everything you do to me.”

  He kissed her again, hotter and deeper this time and she ground herself on his cock, which was already hardening again. So much for needing an hour.

  He brought his hand down on her ass again, harder this time, and she gasped and shuddered, her pussy clenching as heat poured through her. He smacked her other cheek, the stinging heat burning through her and melting into something hot and delicious that made her clit throb. Swiveling her hips, she rubbed herself up and down the length of his cock, the friction of it driving her wild.

  “Let’s see how pretty this ass looks when it’s nice and pink,” he said, that sandpapery tone back in his voice that made her squirm. Before she could respond, he lifted her and laid her across his lap, her ass in the air and his cock pressing into her hip. He smoothed his hands over her stinging cheeks, massaging them and pulling them apart. She moaned when she felt his thumb trace over her tight hole, caressing between her cheeks.

  “Has anyone ever had you here, Liv?” he asked, his voice low and guttural. He pressed just the tiniest bit on the sensitive entrance and she moaned, shaking her head.

  “No. I’ve never had anal sex with anyone.”

  He let out a low, approving groan. “This is mine, too, then.” He circled her entrance with the pad of his thumb again. “And based on the way your pussy is dripping right now, I think you like that idea.”

  She nodded, but before she could say anything else, he brought his hand down on her cheek again, the hardest one yet. Her cry dissolved into a moan, her hips writhing. He gave her a few more hard smacks, each one making her feel as though she were melting, then rubbed his hands over her ass cheeks.

  “Let’s see how much you’re enjoying this,” he said, and then slid two fingers inside her, his thumb going to her clit. She could both hear and feel how wet she was as he worked his fingers in and out of her, yet another orgasm shimmering on the horizon. He slicked some of her wetness up to her asshole and started massaging there, not pressing in, just adding enough pressure that it felt like her nerve endings were on fire in the best possible way. He slid his fingers back inside her and she clenched around them. He rewarded her with another hard smack.

  “Fuck!” she cried out, a strangled moan bursting out of her as pleasure coiled hot and tight in her belly. He smacked her ass again and then dropped his fingers to her pulsing clit, rubbing in a tight circle. Her muscles went taut as the pressure building inside her became too much, and she let go. She came, long and hard, her orgasm pulsing through her as she squirmed on his lap. He held her in place, his fingers still circling her clit, only slowing gradually as he wrung out every last drop of pleasure from her. She collapsed, breathing hard, her entire body tingling, her pussy feeling swollen and achy from how many times she’d come. Her ass stung, but it was a pleasurable ache, one that sent more heat right to her core. He gently smoothed his hands over her ass, a low, approving rumble coming from somewhere deep in his chest.

  “Does it look as pretty as you’d hoped?” she asked, glancing at him over her shoulder. His eyes were molten as he squeezed her stinging cheeks, his cock hard and insistent against her hip.

  “Even prettier.” He dragged the tips of his fingers over the sensitive skin and she hissed as her clit pulsed in response. Slowly, she climbed off his lap, but instead of sitting up, she moved down the bed and settled herself between his spread legs. His cock was hard and thick, jutting out from his stomach and begging for her mouth.

  “Your turn,” she whispered, nuzzling her face into the seam of his thigh. He let out a strangled sound, his hips shifting on the mattress. As powerful as his hold was over her, she loved knowing that she affected him just as much.

  She curled her fingers around the base of his cock and then swirled her tongue around the thick head, lapping up the beaded moisture at the tip. She moaned at the taste of him, wrapping her lips around the head, her tongue sliding over and around him.

  “Oh, fuck, sweetheart,” he growled, threading his hand in her hair. He exhaled sharply as she dragged her lips down the length of him. “I’ve imagined your mouth on me so many times.”

  She licked up his shaft and then slid the head of his cock between her lips again, working him with her tongue. Exhaling, she took him deep and then slowly released him. When she looked up at him, his features were tense, his lips pa
rted as he watched, looking completely enthralled at the sight of her sucking his cock.

  “Me too,” she said, then sucked him deep again, not releasing him this time but establishing a slow, steady rhythm, stroking him in time with each sweep of her mouth up and down his length. He let out a deep groan that she felt in her stomach, and she could taste his excitement. If she hadn’t already come six times over the past couple of hours, her fingers would’ve been between her legs because wrapping her lips around him and sucking him deep was something she’d fantasized about for years.

  “Holy shit,” he ground out, his fingers tightening in her hair as she picked up speed, sliding her mouth up and down his gorgeous cock, flicking her tongue around the thick head. She released him and stroked him several times, pressing open mouthed kisses to his head. She alternated between sucking him deep and licking all over him, kissing and sucking, dragging her mouth across the velvety skin of his cock until his hips moved restlessly on the bed, his fingers almost painfully tight in her hair.

  “I want to taste you,” she breathed, taking him back into her mouth as deep as she could, almost to her throat. He was so big that her jaw was starting to hurt, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was making him come. Making him feel as good as he’d made her feel.

  “Fuck, Liv. You’re gonna make me come, sweetheart.” He pumped his hips up, forcing her to take even more of him. “Gonna come in that pretty mouth.” His ragged breaths and harsh groans filled the room as she sucked him eagerly, losing herself to the moment, to something she’d wanted for years. “Shit, Olivia,” he rasped out, thrusting up into her mouth once more before the first hot spurt hit her tongue. She moaned and kept going, his cock jerking in her mouth as he came, a deep, mangled groan rumbling from him. With another moan, she swallowed down everything he gave her and then slowly released him, teasing him with little licks and kisses around his head, not quite ready to let him go.

  He reached for her, hauling her up his body and settling on her lap again, where he buried his face in her neck, kissing and sucking the skin there. She tilted her head to the side, giving him better access.

  “That was incredible,” he murmured against her skin, making her glow from the inside out. “You’re incredible.”

  “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” she sighed, closing her eyes as he kissed his way from her neck down to her breasts. He gently sucked on one nipple and then groaned, pulling away.

  “We really do have to go, sweetheart. We can’t stay here.”

  She nodded, nuzzling her face into his neck, inhaling his scent into her lungs. “I know. I know. I just can’t seem to pry myself away from you.”

  He groaned and slid a hand down her spine and to her ass, caressing her sensitive skin. She whimpered, fresh arousal charging through her at the stinging sensation that quickly melted into hot throbs she felt deep in her core.

  “And I promised you an explanation.”

  She lifted her head at that, his words cooling her raging hormones the tiniest bit. “Right. The mob war you might’ve started. Even though you’re not in the mob.”

  “Like I said, an explanation is in order. So pack your things. Enough for a week or two, just to be safe. And then we’ll go.” She nodded and reluctantly climbed off him, heading into her bathroom to freshen up and begin gathering her things.

  She didn’t understand everything that was happening, but she trusted Lucian to keep her safe.

  She trusted him with her life.

  13

  The elevator doors opened and Olivia followed Lucian into his loft-style penthouse. By the time she’d finished packing and they’d made their way from her place to his on the Upper West Side, night had fallen over the city, leaving behind the day’s heat while the city twinkled to life.

  Enormous floor-to-ceiling windows lined the far wall, offering a breathtaking view of the city below, the shadowy greenery of Central Park off to the right, the Hudson sparkling darkly to the left. The space was open, with a living room directly in front of her filled with chocolate brown leather furniture and a massive stone fireplace built into the wall. On her immediate right was a kitchen done in sleek black and satiny concrete finishes with high-end appliances. Stools lined up facing the island, and a chrome and glass round table sat just beyond it.

  She took a few more steps, moving farther inside, taking it all in. Past the kitchen was a small set of stairs leading to what she assumed was the master suite. To the left was a hallway, probably containing another bedroom or two and a bathroom. Leaving her suitcase by the door, she walked through the living room, her gaze drawn to the city’s lights. But before she could reach the windows, she spotted a piano tucked into the corner off the living room, all by itself in a windowed alcove. It gleamed softly in the dim light, polished and sleek.

  “Do you play?” she asked, gesturing at it. He stood several feet away, watching her with an unreadable expression on his face. She couldn’t tell if he liked having her in his space, or if this was making him uncomfortable.

  He nodded. “I do. We all took lessons as kids, but I’m the only one who still plays.”

  “Can I hear?” She wanted to ask him so many things that had previously been off-limits. Things about his family, his childhood. She bit her lip as another wave of doubt crashed into her. Despite the way he’d reassured her earlier, she couldn’t help but wonder if they’d be together if it weren’t for the fact that Massimo was stalking her.

  He hesitated for a second before moving toward the piano. “Just don’t ask me to sing,” he said, flashing her a grin as he pulled out the bench and sat down. She leaned a hip against the piano, facing him, wanting to watch his hands as he played. She stared, entranced, as his fingers started moving over the keys, the familiar strains of John Lennon’s “Imagine” floating through the air.

  An emotion she’d never experienced before crashed into her, a sweet, tender ache that started in her chest and gradually took over her entire body, making her chest tight and her heart flutter. Making her stomach swirl and her hands tingle. Warmth flowed over her as she watched and listened, making her feel euphoric. Making her feel whole in a way she hadn’t even known she’d needed.

  She’d never been in love with anyone before, but holy shit, was she ever in love with Lucian. And it wasn’t because he could play the piano, or because he looked like a dark Roman god, or because he’d made her come six times in just a couple of hours. It was because of who he was, the real him, that she saw beneath the veneer he showed everyone. The protector, the man with scars who didn’t see himself as worthy of love or happiness, the intense, intelligent man she wanted to know everything about. He had layers upon layers and she wanted to peel them all back, one by one.

  Because while she was his, he was also hers. And she wanted every part of him.

  As the last strains of the song vibrated through the air, she sat down on the bench and took his face in her hands, bringing her lips to his for a soft, sweet kiss. “I love you,” she whispered against his mouth, and he exhaled sharply, his hands sliding around her waist. When she pulled back, she swallowed thickly, needing to get something off of her chest. “I hope you don’t feel like I—I trapped you or tricked you. I know we’ve been circling each other for a long time, and you’ve always said no because of the complications in your life and our age difference. And I’m incredibly grateful that you’re here and you’re protecting me from Massimo, but I just…I don’t want to force you into something you don’t actually want.”

  His features tightened and he slipped a hand under her chin, tilting her face up and forcing her to meet his eyes. “This was an inevitability, Liv, one I’m kicking myself for fighting against so long. If I’d done what we both wanted years ago and made you mine—what I should’ve done—then you wouldn’t be in this situation with that fucker. I should’ve—” He broke off, flinching. “There is nothing about this that I don’t want. I’m only sorry that it took me so long to finally—”

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; She cut him off with a kiss, her fingers weaving into his hair, holding him close as happiness and relief tangled together in her chest. “Don’t be sorry. The past is done and we can’t change it. I’m happy with where we are right now. Well, mob hit man stalker aside.”

  He frowned, his hand tracing up and down her back. Then he stood, extending his hand to her. “I need to show you something.” She wove her fingers through his and stood from the piano bench, letting him lead her into his bedroom. An enormous king-sized bed dominated the far wall, and more enormous windows looked out onto Central Park. The furniture was sleek and modern, the entire room done in shades of gray, blue, and white. She inhaled, pulling the scent of him into her lungs, a tiny thrill dancing through her at the fact that she was standing in Lucian’s bedroom after all these years.

  He led her past the bed—a bed she was positive they’d make excellent use of in the near future—and to a door almost hidden in the corner, sealed with a biometric lock.

  “I’ve never shown this to anyone. Not my brothers, not even my colleagues,” he said, a tightness around his eyes. “But you need to know the truth of who I am and what I do.”

  She chewed the inside of her cheek, steeling herself for whatever was behind that door. Whatever it was, she wasn’t going to let it push her away.

  He pressed his thumb to the lock, and there was a loud beep followed by a whirring sound as the door clicked open. He pushed it in, then took her hand and gently pulled her inside. The lights must’ve been on a motion sensor, because as soon as they stepped into the surprisingly large closet, the recessed pot lights in the ceiling flickered to life.

  “Holy shit,” she whispered, her eyes bouncing around as she took it all in. All three walls were covered in racks and shelves, holding enough weapons to arm an entire militia. There were guns, dozens and dozens of them in varying sizes. An impressive collection of knives. Metal boxes labeled with things like C-4 and dynamite. “Are those…” She moved closer to one wall, not touching anything. “These are grenades.”