Pierced (Lucian & Lia 1)

“I’ll give this to my lawyer tomorrow and find out what in the hell is going on, okay? I won’t let that bastard hurt you. Please believe that.” Sinking further into his strong arms, I let his words wash over me. I relax for the first time since reading the summons, feeling some of my fear lessen. This beautiful man is offering me protection; when has that ever happened to me before? Even my own mother doesn’t give a damn whether I live or die. I have no idea how she even knew my address to have me served. “Now,” he says against the crown of my head, “I’m starving; how about we go out for dinner?” I think about the clothes I’m wearing and fight the urge to ask him if there is a Burger King nearby.

His arms drop as I step back. Putting on a smile that is still forced, I say, “I was planning to fix dinner to impress my new boss. I already have everything laid out if you’ll give me half an hour.” He looks over the items I have on the counter before opening a wood panel that conceals a large wine cooler. He studies several different bottles before selecting one.

I fully expect him to go relax in the living room, so I’m pleasantly surprised when he says instead, “I’m going to go change clothes, I’ll be back to help in just a moment.” I shake myself from my staring-at-Lucian daze and pull a skillet and sauce pan out of the cabinet for the shrimp, pasta, and cream sauce. Thankfully, Rose has shown me how to make homemade Alfredo since there are no jarred sauces in Lucian’s cabinets. I have just pulled a red and green bell pepper from the refrigerator when he returns in jeans and a worn-looking Bon Jovi shirt. My mouth waters, and my body hums; Rose is right, he is a walking wet dream, and I am like an animal in heat around him. As he turns to get wine glasses, I ogle his taut ass, my hands tingling with the urge to cup his cheeks. His dark hair curls against his neckline, and I remember how it feels to have my fingers buried in its silky softness. When he is facing forward again, my eyes drop to the outline of his big cock nestled against one leg. Oh, sweet mother, my panties are wet and getting wetter. When his fingers snap in front of my eyes, I lift my eyes from his crotch. His sexy grin assures me he knows exactly what was on my mind. What is happening to me? I have never been a cock-gawker. The man has been home less than an hour, and I am staring at his package; somehow, I don’t think that is part of my job description.

He chuckles behind me as I spin around, trying to hide my embarrassment and get a grip on my libido. He puts a wine glass down next to my hand, and I mutter a sheepish, “Thanks,” before turning back to the stove.

“What can I do to help? Do these peppers need chopping?” Now, that I wasn’t expecting: Lucian offering to help with dinner. Personally, I am all for throwing the whole meal in the trash and begging him to fuck me against the stainless steel appliances, but nowhere in the word ‘housekeeper’ does it spell slut, so I keep those thoughts to myself.

“Er…yes, that would be great. I’m making shrimp pasta, so I’m going to sauté those in olive oil before mixing them with the shrimp.” I continue explaining the entire meal to him before I realize I am rambling. He listens to me attentively, although I’m sure he couldn’t give a crap as to how long shrimp cook before they are ready.

We have just settled at the bar on our stools, and I’m taking my first bite when he asks as casually as you would mention the weather, “Do you have a vibrator?” My fork clatters back into my plate as I look at him in disbelief. He takes a moment to chew and swallow before looking at me. “What? It’s a simple question.” I have no idea how the man can continue calmly eating while asking me such a personal question. My first inclination is to tell him to shove it… unless he is open to equal sharing.

“If I answer your question, will you answer one for me?”

With no hesitation, he says, “Within reason, yes.” I have no idea if my question is considered reasonable, but if he doesn’t answer it, I won’t answer any other questions he might have.

Picking up my fork, I spear a piece of penne pasta before answering. “Yes, I do.” He shows no surprise at my answer, and I quickly ask my own. “Have you slept with Monique?”

“Yes,” he answers as he pops a shrimp in his mouth. I’m not sure what surprises me more, that he has slept with Cruella or that he admitted it. Really, I already knew the answer before I asked; Monique is too possessive of him without there being more involvement, even though he seems to feel nothing for her in return. “How long were you with the guy you slept with?”

Ugh, why did I agree to this little question-and-answer session, and why does he care about my sexual history? It’s obviously nowhere near as busy as his. I debate shutting it down, but dammit, I want to know more about him, and I have a feeling this is the easiest way to go about it. He already knows I don’t have much experience, so it’s not like I am revealing shocking facts. Somehow, it is still embarrassing to admit. “It just happened one time.” It appears I now have his undivided attention. You would think I have just admitted to having two vaginas. Clearing my throat, I add, “It’s my turn again. How many times have you slept with Monique?” Shit, why do I keep harping on that? Wasn’t knowing he slept with her enough? Do I need details? Yes, it appears I do.

He raises his glass, taking a drink of the wine before answering. “Just the once and before you ask, it was one time too many. Monique is very…aggressive, which is fine in bed, but I quickly grew tired of her palming my cock every time our paths cross. I started to get the feeling she’d bite the fucking thing off if necessary to get what she wanted.” He surprises me by trailing a finger over my lips. “Please feel free to palm, lick, or suck me anytime you want, anywhere you want, sweet Lia.” I don’t need a lot of sexual experience to suspect I could come right where I sit, with no clitoral stimulation. Sexy, casual Lucian is deadly, and I want to puddle at his feet in a needy heap. “I believe it’s my turn now,” he says as he removes his hand to continue eating. “Why was it just the once? You’re a beautiful, sexy, responsive woman. Did he not take care of you?”

Closing my eyes briefly, I wonder why I’ve let this continue. This is going to be a humiliating admission. “I…it was my first time, so it was uncomfortable and over pretty quickly. He thought something was wrong with me…when he saw my back.” It was Lucian’s turn to drop his fork. He appears angry as he stares at me.