“You are so tiny,” he murmured fondly, lifting her in his arms in one fluid movement. Her feet came off the floor. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his hips and gripped onto his shoulders.
He seized her mouth with his. She purred. Her legs curled tighter around his waist. Her entire awareness swam in the power of his kiss, of his touch, of hard, straining muscle. He held her steady with one arm. His free hand cupped an ass cheek, parting her.
He pushed just a fingertip into her pussy and groaned roughly.
“You’re tight,” he muttered thickly, sounding a little crazed. He removed his finger. “And wet. God, you’re soaking. You enjoy being punished, don’t you?” he said against her lips. She whimpered as he transferred some of the juices from her slit to her outer sex. His finger burrowed between her labia.
“Answer me,” he said harshly.
“Yes.”
He seized her mouth in another scorching kiss.
She cried out in stark arousal. He’d been too tall to easily reach her pussy while they stood, but now he had her exactly where he wanted her. She was completely at his mercy, she realized, holding her nude body against him, her entire weight held suspended with one arm. He pillaged her mouth while he palmed her outer sex and stroked her clit with bulls-eye precision.
Not that she was protesting. She was about to ignite.
She bobbed her hips eagerly, increasing the pressure of his finger and kissing him back for all she was worth. Oh, this was delicious. The friction mounted as she bounced in his hold, riding his hand. Her clit simmered. She was going to explode into a million pieces.
Her rabid arousal was interrupted by a smacking sound and a burst of pain. Lucien had spanked her sore bottom. She cried out into his mouth. He sealed the kiss. She blinked, trying to bring him into focus. When she did, she saw his rigid features.
“You do not ride me,” he said gently. “I ride you.”
“Nobody rides me.”
Lucien’s eyes flashed. She blushed when she realized what had burst out of her throat without thought.
“We shall see about that. Now hold still while I watch you come,” he said through a tight jaw. She opened her mouth to soften her outburst, but then his long finger was sliding between very slick labia and he was rubbing her clit, giving her just what she needed.
She gasped as distilled, focused pleasure smacked into her awareness. Oh God . . . he was exceptionally good at what he was doing. Lucien watched her, his light eyes gleaming beneath heavy lids.
“Let go, ma chère. Submit to it,” he whispered hoarsely.
She couldn’t escape it. It wasn’t like she really had a choice other than to follow his command to the letter.
She clung onto him even as she let go, abandoning herself to pleasure . . . giving herself to Lucien.
Part IV: When I'm Bad
Chapter Seven
Watching Elise come, feeling her body tremble against his, hearing her excited cries, inhaling her unique scent—all of it made Lucien’s head swim in a sea of lust. His hand continued to move between her thighs, his finger sliding with ease in the delightfully lubricated valley between her labia, playing with her clit, prolonging her pleasure . . . coaxing more shudders from her firm, soft body.
He was going to eat her alive, she was so sweet. He was going to take her like a rutting bull. For a blinding moment, he pictured exactly how it would feel to have that tight, wet pussy melt around his thrusting cock, her muscular walls clasping him, pulling at him like a hot little mouth. . . .
He needed to taste her even more than he needed to fuck her. He was intoxicated with lust, but still greedy for more sensation, starved for the pure essence of Elise on his tongue and in his throat. She whimpered in surprise when he leaned over the bed and placed her back on the mattress. He had a fleeting image of her eyes blinking open heavily. He touched her lips with his before he lowered himself, his knees on the floor.
“Lucien?” she murmured, her voice thick with satiation.
“I will taste you,” he said without preamble, spreading her white thighs. He stared for a moment. Her pubic hair was well trimmed, looking darker gold near her slit and between her labia due to her abundant juices. Her sex was a lush pink flower, the color of it decadently erotic in contrast to her pale thighs. Entranced, he parted her lips, revealing her swollen clitoris. Her scent filled his nose. He gave a low, feral growl and inhaled deeply.
“This pussy is mine,” he muttered, barely aware of what he was saying, guided solely by a primal need to possess, and hardly hearing his own voice his heart throbbed so loudly in his ears.
He slid his tongue through the creamy valley, agitating her clit. Her taste permeated his awareness and he was lost. He turned his head slightly, stabbing her clit with his tongue, only distantly conscious of Elise’s cries of surprised pleasure and her fingernails scraping his scalp as she held him to her. She was musk and honey and sunshine, golden sweet, the very flavor of sex. His sole focus became to get more of her taste, fill his mouth with it, his throat, his very being. With her juices as his reward, he learned her perfectly, discovering the optimal pressure of his tongue to pleasure her, the precise amount of suction she needed to make her cries go frantic.
He distantly became aware of several unwanted sensations battering at the edges of his rabid arousal. The sound of loud pounding on the door differentiated from the hammering of his heart.
“Oh, Lucien . . . God . . . someone . . . door,” Elise gasped even as her hand tightened at the back of his head and she pushed him closer to her pussy.
“Shut it up in there!” a woman’s harsh, cigarette-roughened voice shouted outside the door. “All that slapping and screaming and moaning, my customer is starting to get ideas that he can’t afford!”