Chapter 20 Chapter 20
Lucien
The hot water beat down on me like punishment. My palms were braced against the bathroom wall, head bowed under the stream as it crashed over my face, my hair, my shoulders.
Steam curled around me, thick and suffocating, but nothing compared to the weight sitting on my chest.
I shut my eyes. Of course, that was a mistake.
Because the moment I did, she was there again. Valentina.
Her back pressed to her bedroom wall. Her legs around my waist. Her voice breathy, broken saying don't stop.
My jaw clenched so hard I felt the strain shoot down my neck.
Fuck.
My fingers twitched against the tile, remembering the feel of her hot, tight, trembling around my hand.
Remembering the sounds she made.
Remembering the way her nails dragged across my skin like she was losing her mind for me.
Remembering how insanely hard I'd been, how every breath tasted like her, how every instinct in me screamed to take more. To take all of her.
I pressed my forehead to the cool tile, letting the water run down my back.
I wanted her. Not just touching her.
Not just kissing her. I wanted her wrapped around me completely, taking me so deep she'd feel me for days.
And that was the problem. My father's wife. My father's fucking wife.
A bitter, humorless sound escaped my throat half grunt, half curse. I'd just gotten off on her. Finger-fucked her. And now I was about to have a video call with the very man she was married to.
Guilt coiled through my gut like barbed wire. Ugly, sharp, relentless.
I shouldn't have touched her.
I knew that. But when it came to Valentina... there was no control.
No restraint. No distance I could keep, no line I wouldn't cross.
The more I tried to stay away, the harder I snapped. And the worse I became.
She was off-limits. She was forbidden. She was everything my father trusted me with.
And fuck if that didn't make me want her even more.
The water finally started to cool, pulling me back.
I shut it off, grabbed a towel, and forced myself back into the world where I had to pretend I was sane.
I dried off. Dressed in a dark shirt and trousers. There was no avoiding what came next.
I sat heavily on the edge of the bed, elbows on my knees, staring at the floor. Thinking. Debating.
Should I stay away from her? Yes.
Absolutely yes. Could I stay away from her? Not a fucking chance.
As long as she was in this house...
As long as she looked at me with those eyes...As long as I knew exactly how she sounded when she came undone in my hands...
I was doomed. With a low exhale, I picked up my laptop and opened the video call application.
A few seconds later, the screen lit up and my father's face appeared.
"Lucien," he said with a smile. "Good to see you."
"Good to see you too," I replied, keeping my tone flat, controlled. Like I wasn't the worst kind of man alive right now.
"We have a lot to cover," he continued, pulling up documents on his end. "The board wants the updated figures for the new expansion project. Did you go through the proposal?"
"Yes," I answered, clearing my throat. "We'll need to restructure the second quarter budget. The cost projections for the suppliers came in higher than expected."
He nodded. "Good. I trust your judgment. And about the partnership with the Italian firm have you reached out?"
"I'll schedule a meeting tomorrow."
"Perfect. You're doing well, son."
I swallowed a thick knot down my throat. If only he knew.
"And I'll be returning in two days," he added. "We'll finalize the rest in person."
Two days. Two days until he walked back into the same house where his wife had been moaning my name against the wall.
He leaned back slightly, voice shifting to something lighter. "Speaking of home... how's Valentina? I hope she's settling well at the company."
My breath hitched small, sharp, immediate. Images slammed through my mind:
Her body trembling against mine. Her lips parted. Her whisper I'm yours.
Her climax breaking all over my hand.
My fingers curled into a fist off-screen.
"She's... fine," I said carefully. "She's performing well."
"That's good to hear."
Good?
If he knew what I'd done, what I wanted to do again. There wouldn't be a corner of this earth I could escape to.
My father kept talking about schedules and reports, but I barely heard any of it. All I could hear was her voice echoing in my memory.
I'm yours. When the call finally ended, I let out a long breath and shut the laptop.
I should stay away from her. But I knew the truth the moment my mind replayed the way she'd clung to me. I wasn't staying away.
I handed the last set of documents across the desk to my father's secretary.
"Get this contract delivered to the client by noon," I said.
"Yes, sir," he replied, bowing his head slightly before leaving the office.
The door clicked shut. I leaned back in my chair, letting out a breath and closing my eyes for just a moment.
Knock.
My eyes snapped open. Before I could say anything, the door pushed open.
Valentina head popped up in. Her eyes darted around the room before she stepped inside and quietly shut the door behind her.
She was holding a folder and started walking toward my desk.
A filthy image punched straight into my head her walking toward me except without clothes. My gaze dragged down her body slow, hungry, because I couldn't stop myself.
She stopped in front of me and set the folder on the desk.
"I need your signature here," she murmured, her voice soft but annoyingly steady.
I didn't take my eyes off her. Not even for a second.
"Why didn't you send your secretary?" I asked, though the question sounded lower, rougher than I intended.
Deep down, I already knew the answer didn't matter.
What mattered was that she was here. In my office. Alone with me.
Looking at me with those eyes like she wasn't the same woman whose body trembled all over my fingers last night.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "My secretary went out to deliver something. So I came myself."
Great. Perfect.
As if I wasn't already fighting every urge to drag her over the desk and fuck her until she remembered who she moaned for.
She slid the folder closer, and I reached for the pen.
Our hands brushed.
A small touch barely anything. But her breath hitched. Mine stopped completely.
I signed the document and closed the folder and handed it over to her. I thought she'd turn around and leave. But she didn't.
Instead, she stayed right there, quiet for a second before saying softly.
"Um... about last night."
My eyebrow lifted before I could stop it.
Last night. God.
My pulse slammed hard. I was praying she wouldn't ruin it by saying it was a mistake.
It was a mistake. A big one.
One I'd never admit to in my life.
"Do you... regret it?"
For a moment, I almost laughed.
Regret?
I regretted not doing more. Not having her on the bed instead of just my hand between her legs. I regretted not fucking her so deep her voice broke.
But I kept all that in.
I looked up at her. "Do you want me to?" I asked.
She hesitated. Then slowly shook her head in no.
Something hot and burning rolled through my chest.
I stood up straighter. "What do you want, Valentina?"
She looked away, then back at me, unsure, flustered, beautiful.
"Tell me what you want."
Her throat bobbed with a swallow.
"I..." She took a breath, eyes lifting to mine. "I want you to touch me again."
Those words....those four fucking words obliterated the last of my restraint.
Before my brain could catch up, my body already moved.
I was on my feet. I grabbed her waist, pulled her up, and set her down on the edge of my desk. Papers slid off onto the floor.
She let out a small gasp. My mouth crashed onto hers a second later.
All hunger, all heat, no distance left. And god help me, I wasn't stopping this time.
Her mouth tasted like she’d been holding those words on her tongue all morning. Her gasp slid right between my lips, and I swallowed it like a man starved. My fingers dug into her waist as I dragged her closer, her thighs brushing against the edge of the desk. The folder she brought crumpled under her as I lifted her and set her fully on top of it.
Her legs parted without me asking, wrapping around my hips like they belonged there.
My hands roamed her waist, her thighs, her hips everywhere I’d memorized last night. Everywhere I’d wanted to go deeper but forced myself to stop. The guilt should’ve screamed louder. It didn’t. Not when her fingers clutched my shirt and pulled me closer, not when she kissed me like she had waited for this moment too.
“Lucien…” she whispered against my mouth, breath shaky, pupils blown wide.
I dragged my lips down her throat, tasting every inch of skin I swore I wouldn’t touch again. My hand slid under her blouse, fingertips brushing the bare skin of her waist. Warm. Soft. Fucking addictive.
She shivered my name trembling out of her and my restraint cracked again.
“You have no idea,” I murmured against her collarbone, “what you do to me when you walk in here like that.”
Her breath hitched. Her nails dug into my shoulders.
I pulled back just enough to look at her. Her lips swollen from my kiss, her chest rising fast, her legs locked tighter around my hips like she didn’t want to give me even an inch of space.
“Say it again,” I breathed.
“Say… what?”
“What you want.”
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, eyes flicking to my mouth and back to my eyes. She hesitated for half a second just half and then her voice came out soft, desperate, honest.
“I want your hands on me again.”
Fucking hell.
I slid one hand up her thigh, pushing her skirt higher, heat radiating from between her legs like she was already burning. My other hand grabbed her waist and pulled her forward, her back arching as I pressed my mouth to her neck again.
Her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me closer as if she wanted to fuse the space between us. Her breath trembled when my thumb brushed dangerously close to where she needed me most. I slid my hand further up her thigh, ready to go further when a knock sounded on the door.
We froze. Her eyes widened. Her breathing hitched.
I closed my eyes, dragging in a breath as my forehead pressed against hers. I forced myself to step back. If I didn’t, I’d take her right here on this desk, consequences be damned.
Her legs slipped from around my waist slowly, reluctantly, and she lowered herself from the desk, face flushed, lips swollen, blouse slightly wrinkled where my hands had been.
I reached out without thinking and corrected a loose button on her shirt.
“Valentina,” I said quietly, voice still thick with everything I wanted to do to her, “we’re not done.”
Her eyes flicked up to mine. Heat, fear, want, all crashing together. And she whispered. “know.” Before heading to the door.