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"I see—well, maybe marriage isn't all that it's cracked up to be anyways. I've learned that the hard way with a man once."
"You've been married?"
"No, but almost. We were engaged—it was a mistake to say the least."
"And what happened?"
"Let's just say I came home and saw something I never imagined seeing before and that was it. It was over."
"That man's an idiot to lose someone like you."
She laughs. "I guess he didn't get that memo."
Despite her laughter, I see the sadness in her eyes, and everything I thought about walking away from this woman goes out the door. I want her, no doubt about it. I slide my hand to the nape of her neck, and lightly grab onto her hair and pull her close. "Your lips are looking kind of lonely," I say.
She is so close to me now that I can breathe in the floral scent of
her perfume. It's light and airy and reminds me of summer—of times spent outside of these four concrete walls—of never ending blue skies and open roads. Her hair is brushing against my face and all of my senses are heightened. My lips are now near her perfectly kissable mouth, but I'm hovering a couple of inches away. I can feel her anticipating my next move and I whisper, "Would they like to meet mine?"
But before she can answer, I don't hesitate and I press my lips to hers. She opens her mouth, allowing me in, and my tongue urgently finds hers. I feel her run her hands through my hair, softly raking her nails against my scalp, and it sends goose bumps down my arms. My heart is thumping like a bird finding the door of his cage open and I find my hands roaming down her back, exploring her shoulders and the slight curve of her lower back until I reach her hips. I grab onto them, pulling her into me, and I reach down into the waistband of her pants and feel the edge of her panties. Desire is coursing through my body and I continue to kiss her, our tongues, warm and wet, pressed against each other.
Kerri
One kiss—that’s all it takes. The moment our lips touch, I know I’m doomed. All self-control, all thoughts of right and wrong… It all goes out the window with one simple kiss.
Lucien presses his body against mine, pushing me back against the wall. His hands go to my waist, his long fingers over the small patch of skin between my shirt and pants. There’s no fighting this. How could I? After spending so much time thinking of him, imagining his naked body against mine, my sentence is set in stone.
I let out a small sigh as his lips go to my neck, desire rippling through me as his full lips explore my skin. My nipples are already hardening, straining against the fabric of my bra and pleading for his touch.
I know I should put an end to this. My job, my whole career—all that is in jeopardy right now. But, somehow, my brain can’t process any of that. With each passing second the real world becomes just a distant nuisance, like the echoed memory of some long forgotten dream. Only his touch matters to me now… His lips, his hands. His muscular chest pressed tight against mine.
My eyes are closed, but I don’t need to see. I let my hands guide me, my fingertips going up his neck as I explore the hard features of his square jaw line and high cheekbones. I go up to his hair, running my fingers through and disheveling it, my heart beating faster than ever. How many times have I dreamed of this? Too many to count. And now, fantasy has become reality, and it couldn’t be any better.
A shiver goes through my spine as he slides his hands up the side of my body, running them up to my hair. There, he hooks his fingers in it, yanking and forcing me to throw my head back and expose my neck. His slightly parted lips give way to a row of perfect white teeth, and he nibbles at the tender skin on my neck, all of me surrendering to Lucien Stone.
Still gripping my hair, he lets one hand fall down to my waist and then, burying his fingers on my exposed flesh, forces me to turn on my heels. I offer no resistance, my hands going to the cold wall as I turn to face it. He laces my waist with his arm and I jut my ass back, immediately feeling the bulging inside his pants squeezing itself against my buttocks.
I lean forward against the wall, my forehead pressed against it while he takes both his hands to my waist and, grabbing my pants, pushes them down to my knees. My skin prickles as I feel the cool air lapping at it, and I can’t help but bite down on my lower lip as I imagine Lucien’s eyes tracing the contour of my ass, my small black thong the only barrier between me and him.
Placing the back of his hand behind my knee, he slides his fingers up my leg, only his knuckles brushing against my skin. He goes up to my buttocks and then starts to trace the contour of my thong, going all the way to my groin. Another sigh leaves my lips as his fingertips go back and forth, my pussy growing wetter by the second.
Before this, every time I thought of Lucien I became wet, my body pleading to be close to him, but now that he’s on me, the state I’m in doesn’t even compare. Everything in me is burning, desire like an anchor on my mind, pushing it down into a sea of forbidden lust. And it feels amazing.
I hold my breath as his lips travel from my neck to my ear, and then he whispers.
“Spread your legs,” he says, a commanding tone in each of his words. The moment I hear him, I move, my body reacting on instinct. There’s something about him—something wild and primal—that leaves no space for defiance. Whatever he tells me to do, I know I’ll do it.
As soon as I spread my legs, he grabs my thong and pulls it against the side of my thigh. I grit my teeth as he stretches the fabric, only stopping after the sound of it ripping reaches my eardrums. He throws it to the side like a used rag, and I suddenly feel exposed, my cheeks flushing as I imagine him looking at my naked ass.
There’s no time for being coy, though. I breathe out sharply as he smacks my right buttock, the open palm of his hand hitting me with enough strength to leave a mark. He does it again, this time on the left side, and a trembling moan leaves my lips. Just the sound of it is enough to drive me crazy; it’s dry and firm, like a gunshot, and it tells me that being with him will be unlike anything I've ever done.
I tremble with anticipation as he places one finger on my inner thigh, moving it upward toward my pussy. He takes his time, brushing his fingertip against me before going for it… but the moment he touches me there, it’s Heaven.
His touch is gentle and patient, his finger barely touching my labia as he moves it along the length of my pussy, toward my clitoris. When he reaches it, he presses slightly down and all hell breaks loose inside of me. I close my eyes, my breathing growing ragged as the whip of desire lashes at me. My heart drumming hard inside my chest, I move my hips back, desperately trying to make him slide his fingers in me.
“Don’t move,” he whispers against my ear again. His words are soft, but there’s no room for doubt: I will obey him.
“I won’t,” I tell him, willing my legs to remain still as I submit to his torture of anticipation: I’m dripping wet right now, and still he keeps teasing me, moving his finger back and forth over my labia. Breathing out slowly, I try to keep my composure, but it gets harder any time his finger brushes against my clit. He applies perfect pressure—not too much, not too little—leaving his finger there for just enough time to leave me wanting more.
