ADELINE

 

IT'S BEEN FIVE days since I last saw Lucien, Jackson or had any human contact besides someone slipping in my meals three times a day.

The monotonous routine is messing with my head. 

Wake up, shower, eat, nap, eat, pace, eat, go to sleep.  Rinse and repeat.  Rinse and repeat.  Over and over and over again.

Without TV or so much as a magazine or book, I'm going stir-crazy, and I know this is all part of my punishment.  Part of his plan.

And the thing is…it's working.  I would do almost anything to go back to the way things were before I threw that dinner plate.

I don't know if it's cabin fever, a bout of deep depression, sheer loneliness, Stockholm syndrome or, hell, maybe all of the above, but I…miss him.

But above all else, I need him.

He is my only way out of this tedious regimen he's stuck me in.  And at this point, I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get him to like me again and to stop punishing me for what I did.

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 hit him with 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.

When I meet his gaze, I know that he's realizing the exact same thing.  "Adeline," he says gruffly.

Gently, he cups my cheek in his palm, his thumb brushing away a stray tear I didn't even know I'd shed.  And when his thumb caresses my lips, my tongue automatically darts out to lick the salty taste from his skin.

His eyes widen at the gesture, and he drags the pad of his thumb over my tongue and across my teeth, inhaling sharply, his breath catching in his throat.

I can see the lust in his eyes.  I know he wants me.  But the question is…do I really want him?

Do I even have a choice at this point?

Before I can second-guess what I'm doing, I wrestle out of his grip and go for the belt again.  This time he doesn't stop me.  The leather whispers against the belt loops as I pull.  And then I unzip and unbutton his suit pants.

Feeling braver by the second, my hands stop shaking long enough for me to pull the material down his legs along with his boxer briefs.  His erection springs up next to my face, and I stare at it in awe, wondering how he even fit inside of me our first time together.

Lucien's ragged, uneven breaths fill the room, and I peer up at him.  "Can I put my mouth on you?" I ask him in a breathy whisper while clasping my hands behind my back to show him that I won't touch him with anything but my mouth.

He stares at me, his eyes drifting close for a moment before opening once more and locking me in an intense gaze.  "Yes," he answers shakily.

His cock is long and not even fully hard yet, the large, smooth head glistening at the tip.  My tongue slowly flicks out of my mouth to lick the salty drop from him.

That's when the first groan of pleasure wrenches from his chest, and it only spurs me on.  For some unknown reason, I want to please him.  I want to make him mine.  I'm sure I'll regret all of this later, but I push down all of those thoughts and quiet my mind.  I need to stay in this moment.

I lick around the crown over and over again, getting it nice and wet.  His upper back falls against the wall as he watches my every move with half-lidded, lust-filled eyes while quick pants escape his lungs through parted lips.

His dick hardens to pure steel when I wrap my lips around the head of his cock and take him deeper into my mouth.  I've never done this before, and so I'm not even sure I'm making him feel good.  He stays quiet, his expression stoic, and I start to regret my decision to do this.  I'm in way over my head at this point, not knowing whether he even likes it or not.  When I begin to pull away from all the self-doubt running through my head, he suddenly snatches my hair in his hand.

"What --- why did you stop?" he asks, his gentle tone at odds with his rough hold.

"I don't know if I'm…doing this right," I whisper.

His grip in my hair lessens, and he gently grasps my chin and lifts it as he forces my gaze to meet his.  "You've never done this before?"

I shake my head, and I watch as his eyelids droop and his nostrils flare.  My admission clearly turns him on.  "I've never let a woman give me head before," he confesses.

For some sick reason that turns me on and makes me feel almost...powerful.  Feeling suddenly more confident, I wrap my lips around him once more.  His head falls back against the wall as he lets out a long, shuddering sigh.

He's enjoying this.  He just doesn't want to.  He's all about control, and I realize that he doesn't want to give me any power over him.  That's why he's never let anyone do this before.  Because right now, in this situation, I hold all of his pleasure in my hands.

When his eyes are on me once more, watching me, I lick him from root to tip.  A shiver takes over his body, and I can't help but grin.  I move my tongue down to his balls, licking and sucking them into my mouth.  This time, he can't control the groans coming from deep within his chest. 

"Oh, fuck, Adeline," he growls out, and a shiver of arousal runs through me and straight to my core.

Squeezing my thighs together as I seek some sort of relief, I lick my way to the head before sucking him into my mouth once again.  His hands grip my hair on either side of my head as he thrusts into my mouth, going deeper and deeper until I'm gagging.

"Fuck," he hisses through gritted teeth.  "What are you doing to me, Adeline?" he whispers the question hoarsely as he pumps harder and harder.  He's staring at me with such intensity that it floods my panties, and I squeeze my thighs together even harder, moaning around his cock.

Tears fill my eyes as I stare up at him, but I don't try to pull back.  I place my hands on his thighs for support, but I don't push him away.  I want him to use me, as wrong as that might be.

He growls my name loudly as he comes down my throat, and I swallow every drop of his release.  His muscular thighs shudder under my touch, and his chest rises and falls rapidly with gasping, jagged breaths.

I'm in awe at the sight before me.  I just brought the most powerful man I've ever met to his knees with pleasure.

When his breathing finally calms down, he releases the grip on my hair and stares down at me.  "Get on the bed," he orders.

My cocky façade slowly crumbles away as I stand and slowly back away from him.  Even though I've just done that for him, my mind is racing with what's right and what's wrong.  I feel like I'm in a different world, not knowing which way is up as my knees hit the back of the mattress and my back hits the cool sheets.

My body trembles as I watch him step out of his pants and boxer briefs and remove his expensive shoes and socks.  He stalks over to me; and, without hesitation, rips my pants down my legs.  He stares at the lacy blue thong, and his tongue darts out to lick his full bottom lip.  Gently, his fingers hook into the lace material, and he pulls them down to rid me of them also.

Feeling exposed, I crush my thighs together, but he frowns in disapproval at me.  "I want to see you, Adeline," he says seductively.

Slowly, I open my legs, spreading wide for him.  My breathing increases as he lies down on the bed between my legs.

"Beautiful," he breathes.  The moment his finger touches my slit, I jump in surprise.  "Relax," he says with a light chuckle.  His dark eyes snap to mine as he says, "I want to taste you, Adeline, but I've never…I don't know if I…"  His voice trails off, and he suddenly looks shy and unsure.

"It's okay, Luc," I tell him, using his nickname for the first time.  That seems to get his attention, and his eyes return to mine.  "I'm new to all of this too."

With a subtle nod, he returns his attention to my pussy.  I watch as his tongue darts out of his mouth, and he licks the length of my already soaking wet slit.  My hands fist in the sheets at my sides.  Oh, god.  Just one single lick, and I feel like I'm jetting off to the moon.

He licks me again and again and again until I'm biting my lip to stifle my cries.  A hard slap to my inner thigh makes me gasp and wrenches a cry from my throat.

"Don't hold back, Adeline.  I want to hear you fucking scream," he demands with a growl.

His fingers gently part my lips, and he begins to lick my clit.  It feels like electricity going through my body, and I can't help the low, loud groan that rips from my throat.

"Yes, that's it," he whispers against me.

He devours me like a man that's starving, and I shamelessly buck against his face, wanting more and more.  He licks and bites and sucks until I'm a writhing mess under him.  His big, strong hands grasp my thighs, holding me down and not allowing me to escape even an ounce of pleasure coming from his mouth, and all I can do is tremble and cry out as I enjoy the ride.

Lucien pushes a finger inside of me then, and I gasp at the intrusion.  He works his thick finger inside of me for a few seconds before adding another finger, pumping them both in and out of me and bringing me to the precipice faster and faster.

Then, his fingers curl inside of me, and my back suddenly bows off the bed.  Whatever he's doing to me, it's driving me crazy.  The sensation is so overwhelming that I begin to try to pull away from him.  "Please, no," I beg.  "I can't."

With his free hand, he grips my thigh tightly so that I can't move away and continues his assault.  "It's okay.  It's okay, baby," he says soothingly.

I'm stunned by the term of endearment he used, and the line between unwilling captive and willing paramour blur drastically.  Eventually, I stop fighting him and allow the pleasure to take over me.

His tongue assaults my swollen little button as his fingers work my inner walls, and it's too much.  I fall over the edge of the cliff, crying out in pleasure as my body is wracked with a soul-obliterating orgasm.  I can feel the wetness seeping from me, and he groans in approval.  Wave after wave crashes over me, and I can't stop myself from crying out his name.

He growls possessively against my skin, consuming me as the torturous pleasure goes on and on until I'm completely wrung out.  Exhausted, I collapse against the soft sheets, breathing heavily, my heart threatening to beat out of my chest.

He gives me one last lick, which causes a tremor to rock through my entire body.  And then I feel all of his warmth leave me as he climbs off the bed.

I press my palm to my erratic heartbeat, feeling it begin to slow as I gradually come back to earth.  The rustling of clothes grabs my attention, and I sit up to see him getting dressed.  He has a guarded, stony look on his face just like after the first time we had sex, and it tears me apart.

It's déjà vu all over again when I see the same emotions written on his face --- loathing and regret.

Tears gather in my eyes as I quickly grab the sheet to cover myself.  He was in the moment both times when we were succumbing to our desires.  But as soon as the moment's over, it's as if a switch goes off inside of him and he becomes distant and detached.

I hate it.  I hate how quickly he can dismiss me as if I'm nothing but a toy to be played with and then put away when he's done manipulating me.

Lucien gives me one last, long glance before he leaves.

Shocked, I sit there for a while replaying what just happened over and over again in my mind.  He left without saying a word, making me feel like some kind of cheap whore.  Thinking about myself down on my knees earlier…that's exactly what I was.

I was so deprived of attention and affection that I just whored myself out to the man who's keeping me captive without considering the consequences.

Feeling used and utterly broken inside, I sink under the expensive sheets and plush comforter and cry until I'm numb.