“Thank you,” he says, standing. But he doesn’t look at the cookies. He looks at me. All of me. “But I’m hungry for something else.”
Heat rushes through me. I swallow hard. “Lucian…”
He moves closer. “What?”
He’s close enough that I can smell him—warm skin, cologne, something darker beneath it. His eyes drop to my mouth.
“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” I manage, even as my body betrays me and leans in.
“You’re here.” His fingers brush my jaw, slow and deliberate. “That tells me everything.”
My pulse thunders. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re terrible at pretending you don’t want this.”
His mouth is on mine before I can answer—slow at first, coaxing, then deeper when I open to him. His hands slide around my waist, pulling me flush against him, and the room tilts.
I kiss him back, helplessly, hungrily.
The plate of cookies hits the desk with a soft thud I barely register. Lucian lifts me slightly, sitting me on the edge of the desk, his lips trailing to my jaw, my throat.
“Lucian—”
He groans softly against my skin. “Say my name again.”
Heat floods through me in a dizzying wave. I grip his shoulders, feeling the strength beneath his shirt, the way he trembles just barely when I rake my fingers through his hair.
“Lucian.”
He kisses me deeper, harder, until my breath breaks.
The world narrows to his mouth, his hands, the way he holds me like I’m something he’s wanted longer than he’ll admit.
His forehead presses to mine.
“Elias,” he whispers, voice thick, “tell me to stop if you want me to.”
“I don’t,” I breathe.
“Thank god.” His mouth swallows mine.
I groan against him, my hands fumbling with his belt.
“Trying to skip the foreplay?” His voice teases against my neck.
“Wasn’t last night foreplay?” I shove my hand in his pants and find his already hardening cock.
“I guess you’re right.” He sighs, grazing his teeth over my collarbone. “You want me to fuck you?”
“Yes.” I pump his cock.
He kisses my lips. Once. Twice. “What will you do to get what you want?”
I’m unbuttoning my shirt with one hand, trying to rush the process. “Anything Lucian, please.”
He hums against my mouth, his lips curved into a smile. “Reach into my pocket.”
“I think I’m already touching what you’re hiding in your pants, Luc.” But I reach into his pocket anyway to find that damned red ribbon. The fabric used to mean domination but now...
