CHAPTER SIX
I don't know what to do. I know what my body wants to do, but it's not right. I didn't come here for this, even if I secretly wanted it to happen.
Yes, this is why I wore my most seductive business attire. This is why I spent hours in front of the mirror, making sure I looked perfect. This is what played through my head the entire drive over to his house. It's not what I actually expected to happen though.
Already, my breathing is becoming unsteady. My body is on edge. Just the feel of his hand on my face—it's like the skin to skin contact is pumping an aphrodisiac into me. I'm having the most difficult time keeping focused, remembering that I'm here on business.
“Doctor Reddick, I have a job to do,” I tell him, though the resolve in my voice is weak, and I don't try to pull away.
“You don't learn very well, do you?”
His words are like a slap to the face. He's politely calling me stupid, and he's looking at me with such disappointment that it pushes my arousal back.
I want to pull away from him. I want to tell him that the consultation is over, and he can seek out one of our competitors. But then I think about Tyra and Derrick. They're both so hopeful that I'll do a good job and land Lucian as a client. And if I do, the benefits could be life changing. I'd definitely get a bonus, and maybe even a raise. Not only that, but the company would likely get more high-profile clientele. This isn't just about me. What I do in the next few moments affects the lives of so many people. Can I really afford to be selfish and refuse him?
“I get it, you want me to call you Sir. I'll call you Sir, if that's what pleases you,” I try to bite back the disdain in my voice. We're not at Flesh anymore. The little roleplay where he owned me was supposed to have ended there.
“You have no idea what would please me, Amy.” He brushes his thumb over my lips. The gentle touched coupled with the intensity of his gaze is enough to start stripping my resolve away. He's so ridiculously handsome, and so good with his words. I feel like a prisoner to my own desires, unable to escape. A large part of me doesn't want to escape. That same part of me desperately wants to know what would please him.
Just when I think there's no more space between us, he moves even closer. His hand releases my chin, and he strokes my cheek with the back of his fingers. His lips hover over mine, his head slightly tilted. My eyes fall to his mouth. He's teasing me, knowing I want to kiss him. It's annoying how well he has a read on me. Perhaps he remembers from last night. This is the worst type of teasing, the kind that makes me want to pounce on him, wrap my legs around his hips, and dive into an hour-long make-out session, worshiping those perfect lips of his.
I can't do that though. He's made it clear that everything that happens between us is on his terms. I'm just a doll to him—a toy to be played with. It infuriates me and arouses me at the same time, the thought of being used by such a beautiful, powerful man.
His eyes scan over my face, staying hooded with lust. I wait for him to kiss me, but he doesn't. Instead, he looks down, blatantly ogling my cleavage. He drops his hand to trace the plummeting neckline of my blouse, his fingers stopping right between my breasts. “Do you always dress this sexy for consultations?”
Score! He does think I look good. Mission accomplished. Time spent in the mirror, well worth it.
“I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about, Sir.” I play coy.
“You're such a liar.” He smiles at me, and I feel a surge of desire about to bowl me over. He's attractive when he's trying to seduce me, but he's absolutely stunning when he smiles.
“And you're such a flirt.” I see a small window of opportunity to break his spell, and I take it, turning around to step farther into the room. I'd prefer to walk out the door, but he's still blocking the entrance. Maybe I can just take one more picture in here to distract his mind from sex and then walk around him.
I raise my camera to my face, but as soon as I do, I feel his hands on my arms, pulling them behind me. A tiny gasp escapes my throat as he holds me in place for a moment before taking the camera, letting me go, and stepping back several feet. I barely have time to protest as he lifts the camera and snaps a quick picture of me.
“Cute.” I stick my hand out toward him, placing the other one on my hip as I tap my foot, giving him a distinct I'm-not-messing-around look.
Instead of handing me the camera though, he takes another picture of me, an ear to ear grin plastered across his face. “Less scowling, more sultry Goddess.”
“What?” My hard exterior cracks, and I laugh.
He clicks another picture. “You're gorgeous. You should smile more.”
My cheeks heat up from the compliment. At best, I'm pretty. Nice face. Less than perfect body with a bit too much baggage. Gorgeous is never an adjective I could honestly imagine being used to describe me.
“As I said, you're a flirt. You've had your fun, now give me back my camera.” I make a grabbing gesture at the camera, though I don't move forward to retrieve it.
He lowers the camera for a moment, looking contemplative. “How about you take off that blouse and let me take more pictures of you?”
My mouth falls agape at his indecent suggestion. “That's my work camera.”
“You can always delete the pictures later.”
“Out of the question. Now, give it back.” I reclaim the serious stance I held before he made the sultry Goddess joke.
“Come and get it.” He nods towards the camera with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
“Are you serious?” My shoulders slump.
“Dead serious. If you want it, you're going to have to come get it.”
“If I come get it, you're just going to hold it up where I can't reach.” I glare at him.
“Maybe I will. Maybe I won't.” He tosses the camera from one hand to the other, making my nerves go on edge. If he drops the camera and breaks it, I'll be in so much trouble.
“If I play along with your little game, you'll give me back the camera, right?” I cock an eyebrow at him, showing him that I don't think this is funny at all.
“Oh, don't act like you don't want to. Live a little.”
“Fine,” I sigh, stomping forward to try to get the camera from him. As expected, he holds it up above his head where there's no possible chance that I'll be able to reach it.
I try not to look at him as I stand on tiptoe, wiggling my fingers as if it will help me grow an inch or two. Our bodies are pressed together, but there's nothing sexual about it. Not for me, at least. This is all business. All playful business.
He's not giving up, getting some sick enjoyment out of watching me struggle. In a last-ditch attempt to get the camera, I jump for it.
Wrong move.
Not only do I miss the camera, but one of my pencil-thin heels snaps beneath my weight when I land on it, my ankle rolls, and I end up falling. Thankfully, Lucian is quick. Somehow, he manages to catch me before I hit the floor. The damage is already done though. Pain shoots up my leg as I try to put weight on my injured ankle, and I cry out.
“Are you alright?” He slowly lowers me onto the floor.
All I see is red, as I lean over to clutch at my ankle. So not sexy, but in the moment, it doesn't matter.
“Here, let me see.” In an instant, Lucian's in doctor mode. He crawls down to my feet and gently takes off the shoe with the broken heel. “Can you move it?” I bend my ankle and pain follows, though it's not unbearable. “Good.” His hands move over my ankle, applying gentle pressure. “I don't feel anything abnormal. I think you just sprained it.”
“I certainly hope so,” I mumble.
“Let's get you up off of the floor.” Lucian stands. I expect him to give me his hand and help me up, but instead, he slides one hand under my arms and the other under my legs to scoop me up.
My eyes go wide as he lifts me, and I clutch onto his neck, tilting my head towards his chest and wincing, not from pain, but from the fear of being dropped. It's unmerited fear though. If he's struggling with my weight, I can't tell. He carries me to the bed effortlessly and sets me down on top of it, draping my legs over the side and kneeling in front of me to inspect my ankle again.
“I think it's alright.” I gaze down at him in amazement. There's genuine concern etched into his features. All traces of the playful man who was there before are gone.
“I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to happen.” He looks up at me earnestly.
“I know. You were just being...” What? I'm not even sure. Flirty? A dick who wouldn't give me my camera back. My camera...
My heart stills until I locate the camera on the floor where I fell. It seems to be intact, but there's no way to be sure until I can get my hands on it.
“Can you give me my camera?” I ask, worried for a moment that he might try to tease me again.
“Sure.” He retrieves it promptly, putting it in my hands without hesitation.
Thankfully, it turns on without any issues. That would have been the cherry on top of everything that's gone wrong today, a broken camera. Relieved that it's alright, I quickly flip through the pictures and delete the ones Lucian took of me. The fun and games are over. Hopefully, he realizes that now.
The bed dips beside me as he sits down. It's unnerving being this close to him, knowing that he's watching what I'm doing. I feel his hand on my forehead, brushing my hair over my shoulder, so he can get a better look at my face. A warm shiver rolls down my spine from his touch. He's back in predator mode. I can sense it without even looking at him. You'd think that him injuring me would have been enough to make him drop the pursuit, but he's tenacious.
“I think I should finish taking my pictures and go.” I try to stand, but as soon as I put weight on my ankle, it gives out.
Lucian pulls me back down onto the bed, then wraps his arm tightly around my shoulder. “I don't think that's such a good idea.”
“I have to have these pictures turned in tomorrow.” I stare down at the camera helplessly. Maybe if I just rest my leg for a few minutes, it will be alright. Worst case scenario, I can limp around the house and finish the job. One way or another, it's getting done.
“Says who?” He rests his chin on my shoulder. I can't tell if I like him being so close to me, or if I hate it.
“Says my boss. She sent me here to do a job, and I need to do it.”
“Well, I'm a doctor, and I say that you need to stay off of that ankle for a while.”
My mood sulks as I realize that he's probably right. If I walk around on the ankle, I'm only going to irritate it more. Still, I don't really have a choice.
“I'll get off of it when I finish up here and go home,” I grumble, trying to force myself onto my feet.
Lucian rounds on me, grabbing both of my shoulders and pushing me down until my back is flat on the bed. I gasp and try to struggle for a moment, but it's no use. His entire body weight is on me, and I don't have the strength to fight him off.
His eyes burn into mine, smoldering, as if they can siphon the energy out of my very soul. So blue. So mesmerizing. He quickly grabs my wrists and forces them above my head. The pressure of his large palms pushing my wrists into the soft comforter below feels surprisingly pleasant. He's trapping me, keeping me in place...and part of me likes it.
“If you don't behave, I'm going to have to restrain you,” he warns, and there's a hint of a challenge in his voice.
“Restrain me?” I parrot back absentmindedly, still captivated by his eyes.
“Yes.” He leans into me, his cheek nuzzling against mine as he whispers in my ear. “You know, that thing where I take away your freedom.” He nips at my earlobe, causing a shiver to roll from the top of my spine all the way down to my core. Then he pulls back and moves to the other side, his lips so close to my face that they brush mine. I stifle a moan threatening to break free from my throat and close my eyes, internally fighting against my desire for him. “The thing where you're powerless against me, where you belong to me, and I can do whatever I want to you.” His tongue darts out to lick a short trail around my other ear before he sits up.
The way he's looking at me makes me feel so impossibly weak. Subconsciously, and maybe even consciously, I don't want to get up. I don't want to leave. All I want is to see what he's going to do next—hope that it involves kissing me and touching me and other things we shouldn't be doing.
Clarity visits me in brief spurts. For as much as I want him, this can't happen. When I try to sit up, though, he just pushes me back down. I give it a final try before surrendering.
He stands up, and I don't move. Then, to my surprise, he straddles my waist, caging me in place even more. The heat of his thighs touching my sides makes me very aware that his dick is only a few feet away from my face. My mouth salivates in response, and my cheeks burn from the realization that all I can think about in that moment is sucking him off.
As if reading my mind, he shrugs off his jacket and tosses it to the side before unbuckling his belt. For the briefest of seconds, I think about arguing...but who am I kidding. He has me exactly where he wants me, and I want to be here. The fact that he's so powerful and dominant has me turned on to the max. My injured foot is all but forgotten in the wake of what's happening between us—in the wake of thoughts of seeing him naked.
The black leather belt makes a zipping sound as he pulls it free. I expect him to toss it aside and work on his zipper next, but instead, he gathers my wrists and wraps the belt around them before clasping it in place. This is reminiscent of our time together last night. While I am bound, my bondage isn't so well placed that I couldn't struggle free if I wanted to. He remembers my preferences. At least, I think he does, and that makes warm feelings swirl inside of me along with the arousal that's quickly building.
Lucian crawls off of me before scooping me up again and positioning me further on the bed. At this point, I'm quiet, observing him with hooded eyes. I'm not sure what to say or do, so I don't say or do anything. I simply wait for what's to come.
“You're getting the hang of this.” He smirks at me as he reaches for the zipper on the side of my skirt and slowly pulls it down. Every move he makes is seductive, purposeful. “I like girls who behave.”
It takes everything in me not to say something snarky. Something like I'm only behaving because I have to. Because my job depends on it. It's not true though. I won't get fired if I don't land him as a client. Inside, I want to do what he says, want to see where this goes.
When he finishes unzipping my skirt, he starts to pull it down over my hips. I instantly avert my eyes and try not to cringe as I think of him looking at my less than perfect body, not like he hasn't seen it before. To help out, I lift my butt, forgetting about my ankle. Pain shoots though my leg, and I cry out, dropping myself heavily and cursing through my teeth.
“No, no, no, no, no. Don't do anything. I've got this,” his voice is soothing. As if momentarily switching back to doctor mode, he examines my ankle again, perhaps checking to make sure it's alright for him to continue seducing me. Pervert. You'd think that as a doctor, he'd realize that sexual aerobics probably isn't a good prescription for a sprained ankle. He's obviously selfish though, and as soon as he figures out that I'm alright, he pulls my skirt off the rest of the way.
I prop myself up on my elbows, looking down at him. “Maybe this isn't the best time to—”
“Shh. I'm going to take care of you. Trust me.”
He's not going to let me go, I realize. With a sigh, I lay my head back, trying to get comfortable. His fingers curl around the waistband of my hose, and he begins to pull them down slowly.
When my hose are off and tossed aside, he leans down and kisses the top of my injured foot. “Are you alright?” he asks.
The tender gesture surprises me, and I'm not exactly sure how to respond. “Mhm.” I nod.
He moves to the other foot, kneeling in front of it, lifting it and causing me to bend my knee slightly before he begins massaging my sole. A wave of pleasure rolls through me, and I feel my muscles instantly relax from the delicious sensation of his strong hands pressing into me.
“Oh my God, that's magical,” I practically moan, letting my head fall to the side and my eyes close.
He works silently, placing his palm on top of my foot to keep it steady while his knuckles grind into my sole, making my toes curl. The massage is practiced and even, moving from my toes to my heel. Then he takes my foot between his hands and flattens it out, spreading the muscles. It's the longest foot massage anyone has given me, and it's only on the one foot. Now, more than ever, I wish I hadn't sprained my ankle so that I could get equal treatment on both feet. Then again, if I hadn't sprained my ankle, I probably wouldn't be getting a massage at all.
When he finishes with my foot, he moves up to my calf, scooting forward and having me place my foot on his thigh. “It's a bit difficult massaging your leg when you're lying on your back.”
“Do you want me to turn over?”
“No.” He shakes his head.
His hands continue their ascent, though the massage quickly becomes sensual as he goes higher up. Soon, he's making feathery strokes on my inner thigh, and I'm beginning to feel randy again. Each pass brings him closer to my silk panties. My mind swims with the memory of what he can do with those fingers, and I feel my hormones working on overdrive, making my pussy grow moist with anticipation.
“You like it when I touch you,” his voice takes on a dark tint.
“Mhm,” I reply absentmindedly, keeping my eyes closed.
“Do you like it when I touch you here?” The back of his finger traces across the seam of my sex. My thighs instinctively squeeze together from the ticklish shiver that assaults me. Since I wasn't watching him, I hadn't expected that. He slides his hands between my thighs and pries them apart, his eyes boring down on me with predatory lust. “No. Bad girl. Keep them apart for me.”
I bite my bottom lip as I bow my thighs for him, the slightest tremor of pain running up my leg as my ankle turns on the bed. He grins approvingly before his attention focuses on my navy blue lace panties.
Inside of me, the butterflies fight for space as I watch him. I can't believe I'm doing this, that I'm laying here and allowing him to look at my most intimate parts. It feels so forbidden and wrong and exciting.
He pets over my folds with the back of his fingers, and I try not to hold my breath as I feel pleasure pool in all of my most erogenous spots. My nipples perk hard against the fabric of my bra, making me want to reach up and play with them, though I refrain. I want more stimulation, but he's being so teasing. It drives me insane, knowing that he wants me, but that he won't just claim me. Have I ever been this horny before? I'm not sure. All I know is that I want sex. It's the only thing on my mind. Everything else is gone. Just sex, sex, sex. Him inside of me. His dick pushing into me and stretching me. I want it so badly.
“Let's see how wet you are.” He pulls aside my panties and slips a finger between my folds. The sudden pressure of the digit filling me causes me to yip. “Oh yes, you're so very ready for me.”
He probes his finger just once before removing it. Then he leans over and presses it against my lips. I want to cringe. My scent is strong on him, and I don't want to taste myself, but I know it will please him if I do, so I open my mouth. His finger slides across my bottom lip, the wetness leaving a trail there before he pops it into my mouth.
“Suck.”
I close my lips around the digit, doing what I'm told, tasting my own arousal. At the same time, he uses his other hand to pull the plummeting neckline of my blouse aside along with my bra, causing my breast to spill free. The action is so forceful that I gasp. His mouth descends on my chest, his tongue circling around the hard bud. Pleasure pulses between my legs as he sucks my nipple. His teeth crush the sensitive nerves, causing a bite of pleasure-pain that makes me whimper around his finger.
He pulls his finger from my lips and slips it back between my legs, pressing it between my folds and honing in on my clit. He slicks it around my cleft, and my hips buck. The sharp pain in my ankle is all but ignored as I fight to find that place where heaven and earth collide and all I am is carnal instinct.
Lucian releases my nipple with a wet popping sound, looking up over my chest with a wicked darkness in his eyes. “Careful, beautiful. Not yet.”
“Please,” my voice sounds every bit as foreign as I knew it would. I'm so aroused though. I need to come.
“Please what?” the words are sharp, almost taunting.
I refuse to say it. I won't. It's too crude. I bite my bottom lip and give him my best seductive look, trying to fight fire with fire. When he doesn't move, my resolve quickly slips, and I end up pouting instead.
His face meets mine, and my eyes grow hooded as I expect him to kiss me. Instead, though, he takes my bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a gentle tug. My hormones go on overdrive, my need for him almost doubling from that small action. I hate him. I hate him for being so good at seducing me. I hate him for breaking me down.
“Please, Sir,” I force the words out.
“Please, Sir, what?”
“Please. Kiss me. Touch me.” I want to tell him to fuck me, but that's just too much. Baby steps.
“As you wish.” His lips crash against mine with all the heat I had been praying for. At the same time, his index finger bears down on my clit. He rubs in fast circles. Vibrating. Drawing my climax to the surface so fast that my body can't keep up. I moan shamelessly into the space between us as his soft lips and rigid touch make me see stars. It feels like everything in the entire world has stopped to rotate around my pleasure. Nothing has ever been this good.
He pulls away from me, looking smug, and all I can do is lay there and recover as he takes my underwear off. If there was any question about whether I was going to try to resist him again, I think my lack of movement answers it. I'm not going anywhere until he kicks me out. He's won me over completely. I am his.
I watch as he peels his shirt off, a delicious wall of muscle greeting me. It's strange seeing him like this, like I'm watching a movie—not a part of what's going on at all. Guys like him aren't meant for girls like me. This doesn't feel real, and yet it is. He's just finished pleasuring me, and now he's taking off his clothes, preparing to get his. My clit pulses at the thought. It's been close to seven years since I last slept with anyone, and I'm about to give myself to him. Practically a stranger. What's wrong with me?
I'll blame it on pent-up sexual frustration and sort out my emotions later. For now, there's no way I'm giving this up. I've earned it. From being good for so long. For holding out for...love that doesn't exist. I can have this fuck. This one night with a devastatingly gorgeous man. I can allow myself to enjoy myself, even if subconsciously I don't think it's right.
Lucian climbs off of the bed and unbuttons his pants. The way he's looking at me is telling that he's putting on a show. He wants me to see every inch of his naked body, to soak it in before it's on top of me, claiming me, inside of me. The thought is maddening, that I'm going to make love to this sexy God of a man. Not make love, but have sex. Making love is reserved for those you love. Having sex is...
Stop it, Amy. You're ruining it. Just enjoy it for what it is.
His pants come down, followed by his boxers. Good Lord! My excitement turns into apprehension as I lay my eyes on the monster that springs out to greet me. He's bigger than David was. By a lot. Holy crap! It's like a weapon of mass destruction.
When he finishes undressing, he crawls back up onto the bed. My eyes are fixed on his cock, my stomach churning with a mixture of fear and arousal. It's been a long time since I've seen one. And I've definitely never seen one this big in person. It is kind of nice though, thick and long and veiny with the slightest curve to the right. Perfectly proportioned with a smooth helmet and heavy balls that aren't too saggy. It may seem superficial, but I have a thing about saggy balls. His aren't though. I like them.
He carefully maneuvers his way between my legs, and my heartbeat begins to speed up as I realize that this is actually going to happen. We're really going to have sex.
Lucian leans over me, placing one hand next to my armpit and grabbing the base of his shaft with the other hand. Internally, I'm panicking, still not sure if this is really what I want. He's sexy and perfect, but I'm worried about what this is going to do to me emotionally.
“You're not going to put on a condom?” I blurt out the second I feel his glans nudge between my pussy lips.
He stalls, quirking an eyebrow at me as if the very notion is offensive. “We're both clean, and you're on birth control.”
My mouth falls agape. “You remembered that I'm on birth control, but you couldn't remember my name from last night?”
“I just remember the important stuff.”
What an asshole thing to say right before you're about to have sex with someone. “Get off.” I glare at him.
“Oh, I plan to.”
“No. Get off of me.” I bring my bound hands around and shove at his chest.
He doesn't budge. In fact, he just stares at me blankly for a moment before forcing my hands back over my head. I don't struggle.
“I was just playing, okay?” He gives me a serious look.
“It wasn't funny.” I seethe.
He drops himself down onto his elbow beside me, though his body is still hovering. He smiles, that infuriatingly charming smile. “You're kind of feisty.”
I want to tell him that he's kind of an asshole, but I don't.
“You want me to fuck you. I can see it in your eyes.” He lets go of his dick to caress my face. The gesture is less than romantic. In fact, it's so ripe with arrogance that I want to huff. He must have caught the disdain in my expression, because he grabs my jaw and forces me to look at him. “Hey, if you really don't want this, we don't have to do it. I don't want you to feel forced. But please know that this is what I want.”
I feel like I've backed myself up against a wall by giving in to him too much. If I reject him now, my chance of scoring him as a client is as good as gone. I need to do this, for everyone at Environ Design.
“It's fine,” I reply halfheartedly.
He kisses me on the forehead and props himself up on his arm again, reclaiming his pre-fucking stance. As soon as I feel his tip touching my pussy lips, the internal panicking continues.
This is wrong. No, this is right. I want this. No, I don't. I'm just doing it to make sure I secure the contract. You're doing it because you haven't been laid in forever, and you're never going to get a chance like this again.
Everything melts away when he pushes forward. His dick doesn't penetrate me completely. His glans just pops inside, stretching me, bringing me back to reality.
“Jesus Christ, you're tight.” He looks at me with disbelief, as if he expected me to be some loose hoebag, which only makes me feel worse.
I don't know what to say, but I'm sure that my expression speaks volumes. I remember sex being uncomfortable, at least my first time, but not like this. It feels like he's ripping me apart, but I know it will be better once he's all the way in.
“Don't stop,” I tell him between gritted teeth.
He rests his forehead against mine, takes a deep breath, and then plunges all the way into me. It feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room. Fire rages between my legs, rivaling the pain that I experienced when I twisted my ankle. I'm so full of cock that there's no room for anything else.
“Does it hurt?” he asks, looking at me with concern.
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No.” I shake my head.
My eyes are brimming with tears—a mix of physical and emotional pain. He cares for me, yet he doesn't. Cares for me the way one human being cares for another. As a woman, I'm nothing to him. Just a conquest. I'm not sure why that thought bothers me so much right now, but it does. I feel like one of those pathetic mopey girls that loses her virginity to the guy who isn't the man of her dreams and then begins crying immediately afterward. Except that I'm not a virgin. I did lose my virginity to the man of my dreams. What's happening now is just irrational.
He begins moving on top of me, and I dig my nails into the leather of his belt to help distract me from the pain. Hopefully, I don't ruin the belt, or he might not sign with me. That's probably what's really causing the emotional avalanche. I feel like everything that's happening between us is directly associated with my job. It makes me feel pathetic and desperate and powerless, all at the same time.
He stops abruptly, and I gaze up at him. “You need to relax. Are you sure you're alright?”
The tears I've been holding back spill over, and I let out a bellowing sob, which immediately makes him get off of me and pull me into his arms. My injured foot drags across the bed as he sits me up, and it only makes me cry harder. I feel so embarrassed and overwhelmed. I don't know what's wrong with me.
“Shh. It's alright.” He holds me against his chest and strokes my hair. His heart is beating rapidly, like he's afraid. Maybe he thinks he forced me into having sex with him. I kind of want him to think that, even though it's not true. Nothing matters right now but getting all the poisonous tears out of my system.
I cry for what feels like forever, and he comforts me the best that he can. What started out as a sexy afternoon has ended in an absolute nightmare. If he doesn't accept the contract, I won't blame him. This was supposed to be all about making things as stress-free for him as possible, and I ruined it. Again. Derrick and Tyra are going to be so disappointed in me.
Lucian kisses me on top of the head. Even after I stop sobbing, he continues to hold me, stroking my hair and rubbing my back until I feel soothed and exhausted. I don't want this moment to end. Soon, things will become awkward and strained. I can't stay here forever though. I have to face the mistake I've made, the mistake of thinking I could just give myself to him and that everything would be alright afterward. It's not alright. I compromised myself too much. And all for what, a bonus that I don't really need. Friends who will eventually forgive me.
“I'm sorry.” I pull away from his chest and wriggle free from his belt to rub my eyes with the back of my hand.
He takes the belt and tosses it off of the bed, then continues rubbing my back. “Don't worry about it. I know I might have come off a little intense.”
“It's not that.” I shake my head. Since I already screwed up getting the contract, I might as well gush. “It's just that this contract is so important to my company. I swear I didn't plot this, make that appointment with you at Flesh to make sure that you'd sign with me. It was all a freak coincidence, and when I saw you, I just...” my voice trails off. I'm so frazzled that I'm not even sure what I'm trying to say.
“I believe you,” he tells me, though I'm not sure it's the truth.
My shoulders slump, and I sniffle. “I didn't come here trying to seduce you. And I didn't mean for this to happen. I just...”
“Are you sure?” He pinches the side of my plunging neckline that's not holding up my exposed breast. It's a reminder of how distressed I look, and I instantly move to shove my tit back in my shirt and cover up.
“I know what it must look like,” I sigh.
“Hey. No more of that.” He wraps his arms around me, pulling me against him and kissing the back of my head. “You're going to stay here tonight, and I'm going to take care of you. I don't want you getting off of this bed, do you understand?”
The thought that he's going to hold me hostage all night fills me with dread. This isn't what I wanted at all.
He moves from behind me, and I expect him to advance on me again. To my surprise though, his cock has already gone soft. A different type of disappointment assaults me, like I let him down. Like I'm not good enough. It makes my eyes water again, and I mewl softly, feeling absolutely pathetic.
“Lay down.” Lucian guides my head down to the pillow, then he takes the other pillow and props it up under my injured foot, elevating it. “I'll be right back,” he says before disappearing out the door.
If I wanted to escape, now would be my chance. I'm too weak though, both emotionally and physically, completely drained from everything that's just happened. All I want to do is die, but that's not an option. I'm stuck in this horrific moment, trapped in a stranger's house, going to be forced to suck up my feelings and finish what we started. This isn't over. He's going to want sex again. That's just how guys are. He's selfish and doesn't really give a shit about what this is doing to me.
I lie on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, hating myself for not having the strength to leave. This was a mistake. All just a big mistake, starting with going to Flesh.
Lucian returns, still buck naked, and loaded up with stuff. He has two pillows under one arm, crutches in both of his hands with a washcloth dangling precariously from one of them, and an ice pack in his teeth. The bizarre sight of him makes my tears dry up as he approaches me with the items, sets the crutches down next to the bed, and goes to work doing a better job of propping my foot up and then covering it with the wash cloth and putting the ice pack on top of it.
“R.I.C.E.,” he tells me, as if I didn't already know. The only thing missing is the compression.
“Thanks,” I reply awkwardly as he finishes up what he's doing and crawls into bed beside me.
“You rest now.” He turns off the lamp on the bedside table and carefully pulls me into his arms.
It feels weird being nuzzled up against him, but I quickly grow used to it. For a while, I lay there with him in the darkness, listening to his breathing and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, thinking that I shouldn't get too comfortable because any minute he's going to switch modes and start trying to seduce me again. He doesn't though. The hours tick by, and exhaustion gives way to sleep. I fight it, for as long as I can, but eventually I have to surrender, allowing myself to pass out in Lucian's arms.