He froze when something drew his attention away from Ian’s tense conversation. Elise stood several feet away from him in the hallway, her brows arched in amazement.
“I can’t be there for a few days yet. Fax the authorization papers to my residence,” Ian was saying. “We both know she hasn’t been reacting well to the sight of me anyway,” he said, his voice sounding hollow . . . barren. “If anything, I’d say I’ve been the trigger to her worst periods recently, Julia.”
Elise opened her mouth. Before she could get off the first word of her demand to know what he was doing, Lucien lunged across the space that separated them. He cupped her face and covered her mouth with his own. He applied pressure, swallowing her tiny squeak of surprise, his entire focus on the man in the office.
Had Ian heard anything? he wondered distractedly.
Ian resumed his conversation with whoever was on the phone, but suddenly Lucien couldn’t comprehend a word he was saying.
Elise’s body was pressed against his, her breath coming in shallow, rapid gasps next to lips that had meant to silence, but now were molding . . . shaping. He leaned down and fit the tight curves of her hips in his palms, his cock jumping at the perfect fit. His fingers reached, digging into the firm, ripe flesh of her ass. He penetrated her lips with his tongue. Her taste surged into his awareness.
She was clean and delicious, tasting of strawberries and champagne . . . and Elise.
She gave a muffled cry, but this one of arousal, not shock. He knew, because her tongue began to duel with his, hesitantly at first, but as the friction built . . . energetically.
Yes, this was the Elise he knew. So eager, so sweet, so addictive; he was a fool to have ever taken a taste in these circumstances. Because no matter how she clouded his logic when he needed it most, she was a temptation that surpassed all others.
Elise didn’t know what had happened to her. One moment, she’d been dumbfounded by what appeared to be the sight of Lucien eavesdropping—spying—on Ian Noble. Next, she’d been stunned at the feeling of his firm, persuasive lips moving over her own, spinning a spell of silence. Then she’d been luxuriating in his kiss and the sensation of his long, solid male body pressed against her own. She felt his cock harden next to her lower belly as their tongues slid and dueled and tangled together. Desire unfurled in her at the evidence of his stark arousal. She had touched, petted, and sucked her share of cocks, but this ripping, lightning strike of lust she experienced, this was different . . . a sharp, biting, imperative need. She had reached the age of twenty-four and never even glimpsed the edge of desire until Lucien.
She stared up at his shadowed, compelling visage a moment later when he sealed the electric kiss. His body throbbed next to her, hot, male, and primed. He lifted a long finger and pressed it fleetly against his lips before he grabbed her hand. She followed him without question, the luxurious fabrics and carpet of the penthouse muting their hasty tread. She would have followed him to the gallows after the shock of that kiss.
He opened a heavy door along an unfamiliar hallway and pulled her into a room. When he closed the door, it plunged them into complete darkness. Suddenly, her back was pressed against the door by his large, hard body.
“You never give up, do you?” he breathed out, the hint of anger in his amused tone thrilling instead of alarming her. “The only thing you were missing was the pole while you danced up there on the terrace,” he said next to her mouth before he nipped at her lower lip. A ripple of excitement went through her.
“Were you jealous? Turned on?” she asked softly, plucking at his lips in return. He tasted wonderful.
“Wasn’t that the entire point? I want you to know that I’m going to punish you for teasing me that way. Then you had your fun by almost giving me away about the dancing, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t do that on purpose.”
“Of course you didn’t. You never do.”
“The slipup was an honest mistake,” she said breathlessly as they nibbled at each other’s mouth and her body seemed to liquefy from a rush of heat.
“Was it a mistake the way you were gyrating all over Caden? I felt like I was watching you two having sex with your clothes on. And what about just now . . . what the hell do you think you were doing in that hallway?” he asked, a new edge to his tone.
“I wasn’t doing anything but looking for you!”
“You weren’t doing anything but poking at the sleeping snake again. Some things never change,” he muttered, shifting his hips so that his erection slid against her belly. She heard the dark amusement in his tone. He touched her jaw with caressing fingertips, then brushed her sensitive lips. “Now you’re going to have to deal with the consequences, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice a low, sensual threat.
Her heartbeat throbbed in her ears in the oppressive silence. Even though it was pitch-black in the room, she pictured his small smile . . . the glint of a dare in his eyes.
Pride warred with desire.
Desire won.
She reached between their bodies and outlined the contours of his erection. Oh. His testicles felt full—fuller than any man’s she’d ever touched. It excited her, that evidence of his blatant masculinity. His cock rode down his left thigh. She stroked him through his pants, her eyes widening in the darkness. His low, rough groan sent tendrils of excitement through her lower belly and sex. Her fingers trembled as she unfastened his trousers. She wrapped her hand around his thick, tumescent staff a moment later and whimpered.
“That’s right,” Lucien said in a rough hiss as she stroked his warm, dense cock, completely spellbound. “Between that and my hand, I’ll tame you yet, ma chère.”