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I shove her hand out of the way and palm her plump tit.
“Don’t ever keep me from mine,” I snarl at her.
An infuriated puff escapes her lips. “I’m not yours.”
“Oh, but you are. You’re mine in every way that counts.”
I open my mouth to say more, but the distinctive clomp of a heavy tread interrupts me.
Star’s head ticks up in the direction of the sound.
A guard is making his rounds.
I grab her hand and tow her past two columns in the shape of lilies and into the narrow corridor of the Egyptian temple. We circumvent a white headless torso on a pedestal, pass yet another room, and then enter the inner sanctum of the ancient temple.
While the outer chambers are strongly lit, the sanctuary is intimate and dark. We’re surrounded by four smooth pale walls covered in reliefs of gods and hieroglyphics. Soft beams of light are coming from two small horizontal openings at the top.
I press back against the farthest wall and pull Star into my embrace. She buries her head in my shoulder as the guard outside methodically circles the huge gallery, his footfall ominous in the profound silence.
I could tell her about our engagement, but I first want her to admit that she cares for me. She’s fought me every step of the way. Granted, for good reason. I likely don’t deserve her confession, but I’ve never pretended to be anything but a selfish bastard.
“You don’t get to hate fuck me anymore,” I whisper low in her ear. “Admit it, you were jealous when you saw Roxie’s hands all over me.”
Perhaps it’s our illicit presence in the ethereal space of the sacred temple, hiding from the guard, that loosens her tongue. “Fine, I admit it. I’m jealous, but this will be the last time we’re together. After tonight, I’m sure Roxie won’t even let me tutor you.”
“See, it wasn’t that hard to admit,” I reply, ignoring her second sentence. “I’d be jealous AF if any man laid a hand on you. I’d rip his arm out of its socket and he wouldn’t live to see the dawn.”
We’re shrouded in the subdued light of the temple, ghostly stone relief figures and hieroglyphs dancing around us. She’s in my arms, smelling of berries and vanilla. Her tits are pressed against my chest and she rubs them against me slowly.
I want more than her confessional words. I want her coming to me on her own. Before she learns about our engagement. Before we return to the world. I want raw honesty.
“If you want something from me, I want to hear you say it.”
She remains stubbornly silent, avoiding my gaze.
“Come on, say it,” I prod.
Star lets out an irritated huff. “Yes, okay, I want you.”
She grasps the lapel of my tux, goes on her toes, and nuzzles the side of my throat just above the starched collar of my shirt. I tug my black silk tie off, toss it to the floor, and unfasten the buttons of my shirt. With each inch exposed, she moans and dips her head to pepper my skin with feather-light kisses.
It’s so different this time. While everything we did yesterday was un-fucking-believable, her unmasked desire for me is a victory.
Or so I think until she opens her pretty lips and says, “This changes nothing between us, Lucian. Just because I like to fuck you, doesn’t mean I like you. You’re still a puppet. You always will be.”
I grab her jaw, pressing on both sides. Not enough to hurt her, but enough to express my displeasure.
“No one disrespects to me like that. You’re about to get a spanking and then a fucking, in that order,” I warn her. “Now get on your fucking knees.”
Her eyes are molten onyx, glittering in the beam of light hitting us from above. She licks her lips once. First the top, then the bottom one. And then, dear God, she slowly falls to her knees.
Staring up at me, she tilts forward and her hands gently slap the smooth marble floor. She looks fucking sublime from where I’m standing. My cock strains at my trousers, but I’m not rushing this. I’m going to savor every moment of it.
Pulling my jacket off, I demand, “Unbuckle my belt.”
Her hands reach for the buckle of my belt. She fumbles with it in her haste, the dirty girl.
“Give it to me.”
