Lucien buttons his jacket and walks up to the stage. The orchestra fades as he takes the microphone from the stand and looks out over the crowd. “Good evening,” he begins. His voice is clear and steady. Confident. The Lucien who runs boardrooms and shipping routes and multimillion dollar companies. The man who knows how to hold a room in the palm of his hand, and my heart along with it.
He thanks the fundraising committee. The Met team. The corporate sponsors. The donors. He speaks about the different charities and their work, the impact the funds raised will have, the importance of community responsibility. It’s a brief but powerful speech. He nods toward me at one point,acknowledging the planning team, and my cheeks heat as several people glance our way.
I’m proud of him. Of us. Even with everything that sits between us, I’m honored to be at his table. To be his.
“Now,” he says, smiling at the crowd, “I will hand over to our auctioneer to begin the bidding on tonight’s featured items. Please bid generously. It makes more difference than you know.” He introduces the auctioneer by name, steps back to polite applause, and walks off the stage.
He doesn’t return to his seat immediately. He comes to me, brushes a kiss across the top of my head, then leans down. “Walk with me,” he murmurs.
My heart kicks up a notch. I set my napkin on the table and stand. Stacy gives the smallest, most obnoxiously supportive grin. Franco is outright smirking. Anthony pretends not to watch us at all and fails. Lucien takes my hand and we slip out of the main hall as the auctioneer launches into the first bidding lot.
The corridors beyond are quieter, the noise from the gala muted to a low hum. We walk side by side past several closed doors and framed artwork, his fingers threaded firmly with mine. My heels click softly on the polished floor. My pulse throbs in my ears.
He tries a handle to some random door, and it opens. An office dimly lit but with a huge mahogany desk at its center, heavy and imposing, surrounded by floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with leatherbound volumes, the kind that smell of dust and wealth and old money.
He glances inside, then back at me. “Here is good,” he says.
We step in. He closes the door behind us with a soft click. We are alone. The air between us feels charged, heavy with everything we’ve said and everything we haven’t. He reaches for me and I go to him.
I kiss Lucien, relishing the taste of his mouth after days of being away from him. I’ve missed this. I’ve missed him. He kisses me back with a fierceness that steals my breath. Our mouths are hungry, our bodies pressed hard against each other, desperate. I feel his rigid cock pressing against my stomach.
Warmth pools between my legs. I’m eager to have him, but first, I want to please him, as he has always gratified me. I throw him an amused glance after I break our kiss and smile cheekily, as I dip to my knees. My hands run over his body, feeling the muscular cords of his stomach teasing my palms. He watches me, his dark eyes following my every move.
I slowly unbutton and unzip his pants, freeing his massive cock. It falls heavy before me and I clasp it in my hand, taking no time to take him into my mouth.
I watch him from below as I suck long and hard on his rigid dick. He groans, his fingers spiking into my hair, guiding my mouth as I work him to a feverish pitch. He tastes delicious. He’s hard, hot and thick, sweet on my tongue.
I pull off him with a pop and lick along the underside of his cock. He sucks in a startled gasp.
“Briar.”
“Mmmm.” I work him with my hand and my mouth. He pumps into me, and I take him deep, his cock pressing against the back of my throat. He hardens further, and I know he’s close.
“Stop. Stop,” he begs, the words breathless.
I pull back, swiping my tongue around his purpled end. “Why do you not want to come in my mouth?”
“God, yes, I do, but I want you to come with me.”
He grabs my arm and lifts me up, walking me backward toward the desk in the center of the room. Stacks of unused programs sit neatly in one corner, along with a silver pen tray and a heavy brass paperweight shaped like a lion. The office feels forgotten, untouched, like a secret place meant only for us.
He picks me up and places me on the desk as if I weigh nothing. My dress falls to my waist and Lucien reaches down to remove my panties, and then meets my eyes with a startled glance.
“Naughty, naughty girl. No underwear.”
I chuckle. “I lived in hope this evening, Lucien, plus the gown showed the outline so I decided to go rogue…”
He looks wild and untamed as he stares at me before his mouth takes mine in a kiss that is raw and hungry. I meet his ravenous mouth with my own and kiss him back with everything inside me. I clasp his dick and rub it against my core. I’m wet, aching for him to fill me. I undulate against him, purring like a cat, seeking his invasion.
He thrusts into me, and we both moan. His arms wrap around me like a vise, and I hold on to his shoulders, slip my fingers through his hair, and kiss him as he takes me hard and unrestrained. He thrusts over and over, this is no sweet surrender, this is a savage claiming of us both.
“I love you,” he whispers against my lips, his eyes finding mine.
I moan as he thrusts once more. “I love you too.”
A small smile spreads across his lips before he kisses me again, and all is forgotten. The past. The future. Just now, living in the present, forgetting all the troubles, merely holding on to each other.
I can feel myself falling into the spiral of pleasure. My body convulses, shakes with imminent release. “Lucien,” I scream, unable to silence my cries.
