"Because I wanted you," she whispered, her fleshy lower lip teasing his thumb. "Perhaps I knew it would be like this between us? Perhaps I just wanted... something to take my mind off everything. When you touch me, sometimes it feels like I'm not alone. And I don't think I could stand to be alone, not right now." A tear slid down her porcelain cheek. Cupping his face in both hands, Ianthe leaned forward and licked at his jaw.
His cock leapt against his trousers. Lucien bared his teeth in a snarl and tilted his head back, granting her access as he shoved both hands under her skirts. He hadn't liked the thought that she'd done this with the idea of herself as his whore, or that she'd done this to protect the Prime, but desire... the idea of her wanting him made something primal rear inside him.
Such soft skin... Warm, plump thighs... He went straight for the heat of her, slipping two fingers between the slit in her drawers, and grasped her hip with the other hand. There was wetness there. Miss Martin gasped against his neck, her teeth sinking into his flesh as he rasped his thumb over her clit and buried his fingers to the hilt inside of her.
"Fuck my hand," he whispered, nuzzling his mouth against her throat.
There was a flash of uncertainty in her eyes; then she rocked her hips forward gently, filling herself with him.
"You were not a virgin," he said.
Miss Martin laughed her husky laugh, and her body tightened around his fingers in response. "Why are you so fascinated with me?"
I don't know. He met her gaze with a challenging one of his own. "Perhaps I just want to know how far I can push you."
Nipping at his fingers, she rocked forward again, a slow undulation, as though she was beginning to learn what he wanted and perhaps what she herself needed. "As far as you want to, my lord. I won't break."
It was an effective sidestep away from his question. "How many lovers have you had?"
Her dark gaze was oh, so knowing. "Two. The first was... unexpected, but not undesired. I was lonely and curious. I wanted to know what it felt like for someone to pretend to care for me for just one night, and then... Well, he far exceeded my expectations. The second was out of curiosity. It didn't last long, and it didn't end well. Quite soured my opinion on the subject for a few years."
Hardly innocent, but still untutored. "I shocked you last night." He began rubbing slow circles around her clit with his thumb. The scent of her desire was rich and heady. As she rode him, her eyelashes fluttered as if the sensation his thumb was wringing out of her was entirely too much.
"Yes," Ianthe gasped, her mouth parting and her nails digging into his shoulder. "Rathbourne."
"Yes?"
"I enjoyed every second of it," she whispered, her hips jerking with small, taut movements.
He could feel the press of her body, the way she clenched around his touch. The idea that she'd enjoyed his mastery made desire flush through him. He wanted her to find her pleasure with him. He needed her to, but he couldn't force it. "What part of it did you enjoy?" he murmured, pressing his cheek against hers so that his breath brushed her ear. "The fucking?" Her body clenched again. "Or the surrender?"
There. That was it. Ianthe moaned lightly, her nails digging into the sleeves of his coat. "All of it."
Cupping his free hand behind her nape, he dragged her closer, thrusting a little to give her what she could barely force herself to take at the moment. Her skin was soft as he brushed his face against her throat, then moved lower, unbuttoning buttons as he went, and licking his way down all of that pale, creamy flesh until he found the soft curve of her breast, still cupped carefully in her wealth of lace and the restriction of her stays. Lucien's tongue darted beneath her bodice, finding her nipple hard and swollen.
"Oh," she whispered, arching into the caress. "Yes."
"I think you like being under my command." This time teeth accompanied the words.
Miss Martin cried out, clutching his hair in her fist. Lucien surveyed her shocked face over the smooth expanse of bare skin, then softened the sharp pain of his bite with his tongue. What was it about her that drove him to such lack of composure? He wanted to ruck her skirts up, tumble her back on the seats, and fuck the sense out of her. She was madness-inducing. He'd never felt such lack of composure when it came to a woman.
Control it...
Turning and pressing her back against the seat, he knelt between her parted thighs and pressed them wide. Her drawers were soft silk and wet with her desire. Grabbing her by the bottom, Lucien dragged her hips to the edge of the seat and buried his face between her thighs, licking through the silk, his tongue tracing small circles around the hard nub there. His cock was hard. Aching. But this was purely for her.
It had nothing to do with controlling his own fierce need...
Miss Martin gasped. "Rathbourne."
"Not the time for questions, love." Spreading both thumbs against her draws, he parted them, leaving her at his mercy.
She shivered as his breath wet her sensitive skin. Anticipation locked her up harder as Lucien enjoyed the moment, letting it extend until she was practically quivering.
"Look at you," he whispered, "all pretty and pink."
Then his tongue found her clit.
Miss Martin's thighs clenched around his head. "Oh, God!"
