Free Crown Jewel by Megan Derr Page A

Lazzaro's cock and clenching tightly around it, loving the look on Lazzaro's face.
    Yes, this was what he was good at—making men forget everything else, making them feel and think about only him for as long as they were in his bed. He kept moving up and down, sweat stinging his eyes and making the loose strands of his hair stick to his skin. It was not long before he forced Lazzaro to and over the edge, and he thrilled at the way Lazzaro's shout filled the room—and cried out in surprise himself as Lazzaro wrapped a hand around his cock and forced Celeste to tumble over the edge with him.
    He was still trembling with release when Lazzaro slipped from his body and tugged him down so they were pressed together, before giving him another of those long, thorough kisses that terrified Celeste because he was not at all accustomed to being the one enthralled. He didn't want to be enthralled; but he was not certain he had a choice in the matter. Why else would he take a man into his bed without coin upon his bureau? Not once in his career had he ever been that weak, that foolish.
     Celeste did not fight it as Lazzaro settled them more comfortably in the bed, curled close together. He tried not to think about how much nicer it would be to do it all again in Lazzaro's bed. Such thoughts were dangerous.
    Drawing himself from things with which he did not want to deal, Celeste finally looked at Lazzaro—and was completely unsurprised to find he had fallen asleep. The temptation to doze himself was strong, but if he fell asleep with Lazzaro like this, it felt like there would be no going back, and he did not know that he could just go forward blindly. All that aside, he had a murderer to find.
    Who would try to kill Lazzaro over Marco's death, but leave Celeste alone, especially when Lazzaro had taken care to leave his name out of it. Celeste had waited for someone to come after him an, but Lazzaro had apparently done his job well. None but Lazzaro had troubled him in the past three weeks, and for entirely different reasons. Celeste had dreaded it every time Lazzaro had shown up—but when Lazzaro had finally stopped coming, the relief he had expected to feel had not appeared and Celeste had not looked too closely at what he felt instead.
    Slowly Celeste sat up in bed, pushing away the strands of hair that had come loose from his braid. Lazzaro grunted in his sleep, but did not stir. Celeste reached out, and then caught himself, hand frozen midair. He started to draw it back, fingers curling inward, but then Lazzaro snuffled and moved closer, hair falling even further into his eyes, his breathes warm against Lazzaro's skin.
    It wasn't fair, Celeste thought miserably. He was the Crown Jewel, beyond the control of any man; he knew how to play the game of lust better than anyone. He should not be undone by a request to dance—by a simple declaration of being wanted as a mere bookkeeper …by the way Lazzaro fell asleep so easily beside him. Uncurling his fingers, he gave into the urge to comb back the thick curls half-obscuring Lazzaro's face. He should not be drawn—gods knew he did not want to be. He had been happy with his life before the Duke of Nascimbeni had walked into it…but he had been miserable after he had forced Lazzaro back out of it. He did not want it, but now he did not know how he would do without it.
    Sighing, Celeste finally pulled away, then climbed out of bed and headed over to the washstand. A few minutes with soap and water cleaned him of recent events, even if he could still feel every place Lazzaro had touched. Undoing his hair, he combed it out and braided it anew, then coiled it up at the back of his head. He went to his wardrobe and pulled on fresh clothes, sturdy stuff for a long day of extracting answers.
    Ready, he hesitated over Lazzaro, before finally settling on leaving a note. He wrote it quickly and pinned it to his pillow, then crept from the room and down the stairs.
    "Are you all right, Celeste?"