Chapter 40
Chapter 40
I bit my lip as we descended the stairs and entered an entirely new room.
It reeked of sex and money and power.
Quintessentially Lucien, his signature scent of lust and darkness permeated the air.
Crimson booths surrounded a tiny pedestal, round and high—for a priceless figurine or statue.
Leather straps with cuffs dangled from the ceiling in the centre. Heavy drapery blocked large windows, and thick black carpeting silenced any noise.
The room was a decadent tomb.
The guard let me go, only for me to be caught by Lucien.
Where the hell did he come from? I’d never get used to how silently he moved.
My skin singed beneath his touch; arcs of animalistic hunger scattered across my body.
Lucien sucked in a breath.
I wasn’t the only one this crazy need affected.
I cursed my body for responding.
I needed some serious counselling.
I shouldn’t grow wet when a man who lived to make my life hell touched me.
I shouldn’t have mixed emotions of hatred and need.
I should just hate.
He jerked me against his chest, never looking away. “Heaven...” He ran his nose along my cheek, dipping to neck and collarbone.
Hot breath increased heart flurries to a million a second. I wanted to run fingers through his hair, to press hips against his—but I swallowed the diabolical urges.
That wasn’t what I really wanted to do. I want to slit his throat so I can run home to Adrian, my first and last love.
Sharp teeth nipped my throat, stealing my balance.
It’d been a week since his last touch, but it might’ve been a minute or a millennium and I would’ve exploded the same.
I hated him.
He turned everything against me and it hurt so much.
Walking me backward, lips on my neck and hands on my waist, he steadied us when I connected with the pedestal and tripped.
Taking my hand, he helped me perch on the platform.
He gazed up, face at chest height, lust glowing in lime coloured eyes.
Unexpectedly, he wrapped arms around me, dragging my breasts against his face.
Keeping me prisoner, he licked through the holes of the dress, sending wet trails scorching.
“Stop,” I whimpered, cursing my trembling stomach and melting core.
To my surprise, he obeyed and stepped up, joining me on the podium.
With a slight smile, he reached above and caught the leather cuffs.
I couldn’t look away as he pulled my right arm up and wrapped the leather cuff around my wrist.
The buckles tightened and I sucked in a breath.
It reminded me too much of home, the beating, inspection, injection.
My fear consumed, and I jerked away.
My shoulder bellowed as I tried to get free. I shoved Lucien in panic, tugging at the cuff, fingers fumbling to undo the buckle.
Lucien laughed softly, rubbing his lower lip with a thumb. “I’ll let you in on a secret, amor. This is a first for me, too.” His hand dropped, cupping his erection through his trousers. “And it turns me the fuck on, watching you struggle.”
Two things I wanted most in the world: for Lucien to die a miserable death, and for him to fuck me.
Being restrained highlighted all my stupid fantasies; I couldn’t stop the building moisture.
Wetness coated inner thighs as Lucien gathered me closer.
“Fuck, tu me donne des envies primal.” Fuck, you make me hot. His voice throbbed, making me ache, yearn.
My heart broke a little more.
He owned my sense of hearing, as well as my sense of smell. I couldn’t ignore the baritone of seduction, or the overwhelming need to obey.
Lucien pushed my left arm up and secured it. Lungs stuck together when he stepped back, leaving me shackled with arms in the air.
My ribcage rose and fell with panicked breathing, igniting pain. “You can’t do this.”
He cocked his head. “I just did.”
“You know what I mean.” Swallowing back fear, I added brazenly, “You don’t want to do this. Something in you doesn’t want to abuse me. I can sense it.”
He froze, nostrils flaring.
We stood, silently glaring, before he fisted my hair. “You don’t know anything, slave. I want this. I’ve wanted this for too damn long, and you’re wrong that it hurts.” Chest strained in his immaculate suit as he leaned in, kissing the shell of my ear. He whispered, “I’m not afraid of hurting you. I’m afraid of how far I’m willing to go.”
If not restrained, I would’ve collapsed.
“Maître, vos invités sont arrivés,” céleste said. The guests are here.
My eyes flew frantically to her,begging for help.
She stood in the doorway with a mix of emotions flickering. The one I read the clearest was pity.
Her tongue darted between her lips, dropping her gaze.
Lucien waved toward the corner of the room. “Pull the rope, Suzette.”
Her gaze popped wide, and the need in her face dispelled, leaving shock in its place. “You sure, maître?”
He growled in warning and she jumped to obey.
Wrapping tiny hands around a thick red cord, she pulled with one swoop.
I screamed as my shoulders wrenched upright and body weight transferred from feet to wrists. My tiptoes pointed, still on the pedestal, but only barely.
I’d become shackled well and truly by gravity.
Lucien stepped off the podium, inspecting me. My breasts stuck out proudly with arms above my ears, the mosaic dress exposing all parts. “Leave us,” he demanded, not looking at Celeste.
I couldn’t breathe.