And so when he enters my room on the fifth night, I can't contain that sick, deviant need from seeping out of every one of my pores.
I hear the tell-tale beeping sound before the knob turns. Knowing it's definitely not meal time since dinner was served a while ago, my gaze snaps to the door. I watch as Lucien calmly walks in. He's in a three-piece tailored suit, of course, but he looks…alarmingly strange.
I note that the top few buttons of his white shirt are open, revealing some of his muscular chest, and his tie is pulled loose from around his neck. His typically clean-shaven jaw is littered with day-old stubble, and his hair is mussed as if he just got done running his hands through it. All of these things are very uncharacteristic for him. Normally, he's perfectly put together. I've never seen him any other way.
And the sudden change in his demeanor has my spine going ramrod straight.
Did something happen? Is he going to let me go? Is he going to…hurt me again?
The bruises on my backside are finally fading, and I don't want to add anymore to the brutal collection.
I'm not sure of the cause of his distress. It's most likely me, but I don't know what other endeavors he has outside of this house. To be able to afford an entire staffed island, I would imagine he has his fingers in a lot of pies…and probably has a lot of illegal undertakings.
He calmly closes the door and leans up against the wall. His gaze is focused on the floor, and I almost want to scream at him to look at me. I'm so desperate for conversation, not having spoken to anyone in five whole days. I'm starting to forget the sound of my own voice.
Nervously, I chew on my bottom lip as I wait for him to speak. Minutes tick by, and the only sounds in the quiet room are my quick, panting breaths and his steady, sure ones.
Lucien looks like he is mulling something over in his mind. He opens his mouth to speak, but then snaps it shut without uttering a word and shakes his head absently.
"I---I'm sorry," I tell him, the words bursting out of my mouth when I'm not being able to take another minute of mind-numbing silence.
His eyes snap up to meet mine, and they narrow as if searching for any sign of deception on my face. I don't think he was expecting me to be the one apologizing after what happened. Quite honestly, neither was I. After all, it's not like I hithimwith a belt.
He clears his throat before asking, "Have you learned your lesson?"
I nod empathically. And when his eyes narrow even further, I answer out loud, "Yes." I want to be out of this godforsaken room so badly that I would agree to and do almost anything at this point.
"Good." He straightens and makes a motion for the door, but I cry out for him to stop before he can leave. His back stiffens as his hand hovers over the keypad.
"Please don't leave," I utter, desperation saturating my voice. "Please. Stay." I'm so damn close to begging at this point.
He turns to me once more, his right eyebrow cocked. "You want me to stay here with you?"
I nod.
"Why?" he asks harshly, clearly thinking I'm trying to trick him somehow.
"I…I just…" My voice trails off. My emotions are at war with each other as I try to figure out what the hell is going on. His handsome features soften the longer I stare at him, and he almost looks…remorseful. Is he sorry for what he did to me? Did he come here to apologize, but didn't get the chance since I did it first?
Jax had told me that if Lucien could tell me he was sorry that he would. Given his troubled past, maybe Lucien has trouble expressing himself and apologizing even when he's clearly in the wrong.
How could I fault him for something out of his control?
I stare at him now, trying to picture him as a lost, sad, little boy. And given his current haphazard and uncharacteristic appearance, it's not hard to do just that.
I want to forgive Lucien, because I need him. Even if I don't want to admit it, I do. And despite the fact that he is the one holding me captive, I can't help but remember our first time together and how that night changed me forever.
I feel a familiar pull in my core as I stare into Lucien's dark eyes and crawl off the bed. I study him intensely as I walk towards him. His dark hair falls rebelliously over two pools of chocolate that appear infinitely deep. He's so incredibly handsome that it hurts to look at him.
How can I hate someone so much, but at the same time crave their touch and just the mere presence of them?
I nibble my bottom lip and stare at the floor. I know what I have to do to keep him here with me. A part of me is screaming in agony for me not to take the next step, but another part of me knows what must be done…and is turned on by it.
He watches me with a guarded look as I approach, observing me curiously. When I reach him, I drop to my knees on the plush carpet. My trembling hands reach for his belt, but he grasps them, holding them back.
"No," he tells me adamantly with a sharp shake of his head.
The intensity in which he stares at me sends a shiver through me. I stare down at his large hands holding my tiny wrists, and I realize that he's touching me…and not freaking out.
