Lucas – 9. chapter

The bedroom looked exactly as she had expected. A massive bed with a wrought-iron headboard and footboard. Of course. There had to be options for tying someone up. Nightstands on either side, an armchair beneath the window. And another door, logically the bathroom. He left her standing in the open space and sat down in the armchair himself. He leaned back, rested his left ankle over his right knee, and shifted until he found a more comfortable position.

“Get undressed,” he told her.

She hesitated for barely a second, then obeyed. He watched her in silence, but with growing excitement. She kept her heels on and, now naked, confident in her own beauty, stepped in front of him. He ignored the defiant, deliberately unpleasant look on her face and shamelessly studied her body. Exactly as he had imagined it. If not better. He had been attracted to her since their first meeting, but she had always managed to kill any arousal with her stupidity. He propped his head up with his hand and let her stand there a moment longer under his scrutinizing gaze.

“Lie down,” he said at last, gesturing toward the bed.

Annoyed, she complied. She lay on her back, legs together, arms straight at her sides, eyes fixed on the ceiling. He couldn’t help smiling as he stood. He walked to the bed, reached toward the nightstand, opened a drawer, and pulled out a rope. Lucia jerked at the sight of it.

“I’m doing everything you want!” she protested.

“That’s good. Keep it up.” He knelt on the bed beside her. “I like it, and it lowers your chances of getting spanked.” He winked and took both her wrists. She clenched her teeth so hard in anger it was probably audible, but it didn’t distract him as he tied her hands above her head to the bed. He pressed a light kiss to her lips, stood, gave her a satisfied look, and walked into the bathroom.

He wasn’t gone long. When he returned, he was changed into jeans and a T-shirt. Lucia thought, for reasons she couldn’t quite explain, that this bothered her much more than if he had come back naked. She couldn’t decide whether the fact that Lucas looked sexy in a suit, in jeans, or in just about anything was a good thing or a very bad one under the circumstances.

He interrupted her thoughts when he lay down beside her on his side, propped on one elbow. She drew a nervous breath.

When he reached for her face, she flinched. He paused for a second, then continued, stroking her cheek, her chin, her neck.

“I’m not a sadist,” he said soothingly. “I don’t need to beat you. If you don’t give me a reason to punish you more than you deserve right now, you can get through today without pain.”

She decided to stay silent and ignore the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She turned her head away from him and fixed her gaze on the bathroom door. It didn’t faze him. With a warm, gentle hand, he slid lightly over her breasts, down her stomach, across her hips and thighs, then slowly back up. He leaned closer and kissed her neck. She held her breath.

“Give me a kiss,” he said.

She turned toward him, pressed her lips briefly to his, then pulled away. Before she could turn her head back, he pushed his hand into her hair and gripped hard. She froze.

“I’m sure you can do better than that.”

His voice was tender, but the threat beneath it wasn’t even disguised. Reluctantly, she leaned back in. This time she pushed her tongue into his mouth. He didn’t interrupt her with his own tongue at first, until after a few moments he joined in. But as soon as he released her hair, she pulled away and rested her head on the pillow. He let it go. He traced his nails over her stomach, then her breasts. Propped on one elbow, he continued touching her with his free hand. Softly. Harder. For a long time. Her tightly pressed lips made it clear she was determined not to cooperate. But he hadn’t expected her to. He was curious how long it would take before she gave in. He was certain she didn’t find him repulsive. And in that case, physical stimulation wouldn’t let up. Whether she wanted it or not, it would arouse her. The only question was how long it would take.

She resisted stubbornly, but not for even fifteen minutes. Her steady breathing began to quicken, and her nipples helped him draw the first muffled sigh from her. It clearly surprised or angered her, because she immediately held her breath and clamped her lips shut again. He smiled and kept going. When she finally stopped trying to hide her increasingly labored breathing, he slid his hand between her legs. She flinched again and tried to pull away. Useless. He held her hips in place, and the rope on her wrists didn’t give.

“Stop,” she said, frowning.

“Why?” he asked matter-of-factly, without stopping his teasing.

Instead of answering, she sighed, closed her eyes, and tipped her head back.

“I don’t like it,” she said hoarsely when she caught her breath.

“Really?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He pushed his tongue into her mouth. She resisted only briefly. When she finally calmed down, he softened his movements, then pulled back.

“For someone who doesn’t like it,” he murmured against her neck between kisses, “you’re already pretty ready.”

She was acutely aware of the dampness between her legs. She was no longer sure who she was angrier at. Him. Or herself. He stopped stroking her and watched her with quiet satisfaction. When she opened her eyes and looked at him questioningly, he reached for the rope and loosened it with one hand.

“Aren’t you hungry?” he asked suddenly.

She blinked at him in confusion as he stood beside the bed and handed her his shirt.

“Uh,” she cleared her throat in confusion and sat up on the edge of the bed. “Not really. More thirsty than hungry.”

She took the shirt, pulled it on, and reached for the first button.

“Don’t button it,” Lucas said as he opened the door.

She obeyed and stood.

They went downstairs to the kitchen. On the way, Lucas grabbed both glasses from the cabinet and topped them up at the counter. He took a sip, set his glass down, and motioned for Lucia to come closer. When she did, he took her by the waist and lifted her to sit on the counter. He didn’t comment when she wrapped the shirt around herself. He handed her a bottle of mineral water and opened the fridge. He took something out, and when he set the food down, he noticed Lucia’s glass was already empty. He raised an eyebrow, then silently refilled it. She downed the entire glass before he even had time to close the bottle. He hesitated, then smiled and closed it anyway. He stepped closer, spread her legs, and stood between them.

“If you think,” he leaned his palms on the counter and planted a kiss on her lips, “that I’m going to let you get drunk, you can forget that too. Today, you’re going to savor every single minute to the last drop, fully conscious.”

He waited for her disappointed and angry expression, planted another kiss on her lips, then went to get bread. He started making sandwiches, occasionally checking her expression. She stared at the floor for a while, then bit her lip thoughtfully, occasionally sipping her water. He pressed the sandwiches into the grill and moved closer to her.

“Spread your legs,” he said, snapping her out of her thoughts.

She shot him a brief look, pulled the shirt tighter around herself, then did as he asked. He opened the shirt wide first, and when she let out an annoyed sound, he placed his fingers at her most intimate spot. She immediately grabbed his wrist with both hands. He didn’t move, just looked her hard in the eyes and made a warning clicking sound with his tongue. She hesitated, conflicted.

“I don’t think,” she began, “that it’s a given I’ll obey you.”

“It’s up to you how this goes,” he said calmly. “You can choose to be sensible. You will obey, and you’ll put your hands back down nicely. Or you can play the hero, refuse to cooperate, and in that case I’ll simply tie you up and spank your ass. Either way, everything will happen exactly how I want it to. It’ll just be a lot more uncomfortable for you.”

She glared at him.

“And as a bonus, scraped wrists,” she muttered.

“Uh-uh,” he shook his head. “I tie knots so there’s no chance of that,” he smirked. “That would be evidence.”

She shot him a hateful look. After a moment, she let out a defeated breath, released her grip, and finally placed her hands on the counter.

“Smart girl,” he whispered and began touching her gently.

She clenched her teeth and turned her head away. She managed to keep looking indifferent until the grill beeped. Lucas immediately moved to it and plated the toast. While he did, Lucia wrapped the shirt back around herself. He noticed and, still facing the grill, warned.

“Do that again and I’ll take it off you.”

She shifted irritably and lowered her gaze. He didn’t comment further, just handed her a plate.

“I’ll pour you another if you eat this.”

She hesitated only briefly. She was already holding the plate when he added, “You didn’t have breakfast.”

“How would you know that?” she asked skeptically.

“You drink one coffee in the morning,” he said, picking up his own toast. “If breakfast happens, it’s with that coffee. Today you drank your coffee at the office.” He took a bite.

Lucia didn’t hide her surprise.

“I didn’t know you paid that much attention to me.”

“I notice a lot of things.”

“Like what?” She started eating too.

“I don’t know. For example, I always knew you drove. I just thought someone was driving you.” She gestured for him to continue, her mouth full.

“Those sexy shoes of yours. No matter the weather, they were always clean. At most a little damp, appropriate for melted snow after a few steps from the car to the building. And you remove the logos from your designer clothes.”

She choked and started coughing.

“Darling,” he said calmly, “I shop in the same stores you do. I know exactly what real Prada or Burberry looks like and what a fake looks like. You wear originals. I just couldn’t figure out until recently why you removed the little fabric tags and metal plates.”

She didn’t ask anything else. She finished eating in silence, watching him. He noticed her gaze, but since she was quiet, so was he. She handed him her empty plate and thanked him. He put it in the dishwasher with his own and poured her another whisky. This time, she didn’t drink it all at once.