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gremlin-girly · 4 months ago

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An Open Invitation

Whisk & Whimsy Part 2

Dividers by: @/bernardsbendystraws | Banner by me, made in canva, images from canva and Pinterest (credit to the original creators)

Tags/warnings: Mild intimidation, threats, petnames (doll, sweetheart)

Not beta'd. I do not give permission for my work to be reposted, copied, translated or put through an AI machine.

Pairing: Biker! Bucky x f!Cafe Owner! Reader

Chapter summary: Sick of your defiant antics, Bucky invites you to the club.

Word count: 4.6k

Series Masterlist | Bucky Masterlist | Navigation

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You'd learned that the two bikers positioned outside Whisk & Whimsy were Steve and Sam.

You had learned that because you continued to go and hand them lunches and made a point to make polite conversation and learn about their preferred sandwiches, coffee and pastries.

Your continued exchanges with them meant that the townsfolk of Briarridge believed you and Bucky were even; which meant that you were getting more and more customers by the day. Much to the annoyance of the bikers out front, and most likely Bucky too.

That thought made your smile brighter as you handed Steve and Sam their take out bags. It had been almost a month since Bucky had paid your small café a visit and you'd tried wracking your brain to come up with an idea that would keep him and his little gang from destroying what you'd so painstakingly created.

"You know," Steve began a day before Bucky's supposed return, munching around the croissant you'd packed him. Flaky bits of pastry nestled into the creases of his shirt that traced his muscles and you were too polite to tell him he was making a mess. "Bucky has been thinking of inviting you to the club."

You raise your eyebrows. So. Another intimidation tactic, huh? You'd wondered how long it would take for him to snap at your peaceful act of defiance. Apparently, to your surprise, Bucky was a patient man. Despite the open invitation, and knowing it's meant to try and terrify you into submission, you can't ignore the fact it's a great opportunity to both simultaneously gain favour and infuriate Bucky further.

"Really?" You ask looking between the two bikers. Sam sips at his coffee before answering you, eyeing you with a small smirk.

"You're being so kind to us, Bucky wants to return the favour." He explains, trying to catch a drop in your friendly demeanour but when it doesn't happen, he shrugs. "He wants you to come tomorrow night."

"Can't," you say with a sweet smile and both men straighten their shoulders. "Health inspector visit."

You should be afraid; both men are over six foot at least and are well-built. It's a courtesy you haven't been hurt or had your life threatened. However, they hadn't made one move towards you the entire week and eventually relaxed around you. You can only guess that they're more shocked that you would directly disobey an order from Bucky. And you were about to press your luck even further.

"I could maybe swing by on the weekend? I don't know, I'm pretty busy this week. Bucky is supposed to stop by tomorrow anyway, we can arrange it then."

Steve and Sam both balk at your suggestion, shifting in their seats with unease. However, you needed a few extra days to prepare, mentally and physically, but you also wanted to push the limits of how much you could get away with. If Bucky was as tough and scary as he seemed, you were probably putting your life on the line by poking the bear. Or wolf.

Steve growls a wary "hrm" but tugs his phone from his jeans pocket and taps away before speaking again.

"Bucky's coming to collect payment tomorrow." Steve says slowly, blues eyes scanning your face like Sam, still waiting on that drop.

"He's not. He's coming for lunch and to arrange a time for me to visit." You keep your smile still as you reply coolly. "Speaking of lunch, I haven't eaten since six a.m.. Sorry boys, gotta go."

You give them a wave goodbye and re-enter the café, wiping your sweaty palms on your apron, taking a breath. It's only for a moment. A brief suspension in time where you allow the anxiety of your situation claw at your chest before you grin and go back to serving your customers like your livlihood isn't in danger.

The following morning, Steve and Sam aren't posted in their usual spot as you unlock the doors to Whisk & Whimsy. That's off-putting.

You'd already done the prep for the day the night before, sacrificing your down time and sleep just in case Bucky forced you to the club today, even going so far as to gather what little money you had gathered in savings and hiding it in the hole in your living room and putting both a rug and the newly acquired second-hand sofa over it.

You sigh heavily into a flat white, hoping it would wake you up as the thrum of your Kitchen-Aid creamed sugar and butter together. You refused to let your anxiety be your conquerer today; there was too much to lose. Waiting on Bucky’s arrival would be excruciating, you may as well be productive while you wait.

The bell jingles and heavy footfalls of thick-soled bike boots alert you to Bucky’s arrival. You look up from your cup, switching the mixer off, and offer up a warm smile.

"Doll," Bucky drawls, smirking back at you as he approaches. "Good morning."

It's annoying how good he looks. His long hair has been pushed back, a cigarette nestled on his left ear, and in place of the red Henley it's a tight white t-shirt that leaves little to the imagination. The dark outlines of his tattoos were visible under his shirt, trailing from his shoulder all the way to his wrist. He's still wearing his rings and the clack against the counter as he folds his arms onto it, and you can see a bicep the size of your head bulge.

"Morning." You reply. "Black coffee?"

Bucky grins. "Yeah. And one of those chocolate croissants Steve keeps going on about. Thanks."

The air is thick with tension as you set up the coffee and grab a fresh pain au chocolat from the pastry display. You were expecting guns blazing, figuratively and literally, not a shark's grin and polite interaction. You don't offer to heat up the pain au chocolat and you place it on a plate in front of him followed by his coffee.

"On the house." You say curtly, even though Bucky doesn't even reach for his wallet.

"Aw, doll, that's too kind." Bucky takes a bite out of the pastry and makes a face of bliss, licking away the pastry flakes. "Shit. These are good."

You want to curse yourself for getting distracted by him but shake it off. He's just another asshole. You're golden. You just need to keep buttering him up.

"Steve said you invited me to the club," you say casually, leaning into the counter. "That was... kind of you."

Bucky raises an eyebrow at you as he takes a sip of coffee, clearly wary of your intentions but shrugs. "You've been good to Steve and Sam this week and I've been getting an earful of of it. I can only return the favour."

That was a relief to hear. Your hard work of being a decent human being had paid off, even it was an excuse to try and intimidate money out of you.

"Oh, well that's-"

"But imagine my surprise when you say I'm coming by so we can discuss a day and a time." He interrupts with a smirk, his eyes boring into yours to try and make you wither and apologise. "I think you mistook my invitation as my asking you out."

You try not letting the comment get to you, forcing the blush to stay back off your face. He's just being aggravating. Pushing your buttons.

He's smarter than he looks.

"You said last week you'd stop by." You say with a small shrug, stretching your arms up and away from the counter and begin to potter with your Kitchen-Aid. "Sorry, I just thought it would be best to discuss in person rather than back-and -forthing through the boys."

Bucky's blue eyes narrow but his smirk remains. He holds your gaze for a few seconds more before chuckling. "I didn't come by for you and you know damn well I didn't."

"Didn't you?" You ask innocently, enjoying having him on the backfoot instead. "So, everyone has been invited to the club?"

Bucky looks at little taken aback but as he opens his mouth, you talk over him.

"I'm free Saturday night, though." You scrape the edges of the bowl before adding two eggs. "I checked my calendar yesterday."

Bucky huffs incredulously but his smirk widens into a grin. "You're gonna be a pain in my ass, doll. I know it."

"Dont know what you mean, Bucky." You say sweetly, turning the mixer on low. The hum of the motor fills the café again. "Give me a time and the address and I'll see you then."

For some reason you thought the club would be miles out of town, not in the middle of a street. The bikes were in a lot around the back, and the music was so loud the beat could be felt on the ground outside the bar. A red neon sign flickered above the bar; The Den.

Two terrifyingly imposing men stood at the door and you felt extremely underdressed in your spring floral dress and flats. You gripped your cupcake carrier tight in your hands as you approached and smiled brightly.

The taller of the two, easily beating Steve in height, had a thick brown and grey beard and dark brown eyes. He wore a leather waistcoat with a white shirt vest underneath, which allowed his huge, tattooed arms to be on display. The other was blond, with a strong nose and a somehow meaner looking face, arms crossed firmly across his chest.

"Hi." You say brightly. "Bucky invited me."

Both men exchange a glance and their eyes narrow and you gulp nervously. The bigger one squints for a moment before breaking into a grin.

"Ah! You must be the baking lady!" His Russian accent is thick and the sudden shift in demeanour makes his imposing nature melt away into something akin to a buff, Russian Santa Claus. "I am Alexei. This is Walker."

You nod at Walker, who still doesn't seem convinced by you. Alexei waves a hand at him. "Go get Bucky." He says before leaning down to you, taking your heavy cupcake carrier from your hand. "Pretty ladies should never carry heavy things."

You thank him shyly and follow behind Walker inside the club. It's louder inside and far more... sparse than you'd expected. There's a small bar with a redhead manning it, a short-haired blonde woman with a nose piercing tapping away at her phone on a barstool, and other than Sam and Steve only a handful of faces you don't recognise.

Some are chatting together, some are playing pool and some are playing darts. It just looks like a normal bar; dim lights, music that's clearly old school rock playing from a speaker somewhere, and a questionable amount of dark stains in the worn into the carpet. You didn't need to guess what those stains were.

"Pretty nice eh?" Alexei says proudly. "Since Bucky opened this chapter, we've had quite a few new members!"

"It's lovely." You say sweetly, and Walker casts a glance backwards at you, unimpressed.

"You two wait here, I'll go get him."

Alexei leads you to the bar and sets down your carrier on top of it as Walker vanishes through a door in the back.

"Ignore Walker," he murmurs as you take a seat. "He's got bees in his briefs."

You smile, genuinely, but try to figure out the saying when the redheaded barkeep appears.

"You mean a bee in his bonnet, dad." She gives you a cunning smile, green eyes roving over your dress. "You must be the one Bucky's got a bee in his bonnet about."

"Bee in briefs sounds better." Alexei huffs quietly. "It make more sense. I would be panicked if there was a bee in my-"

"Please shut up, dad." The short haired blonde groans from the other side of the bar. She also had a Russian accent but was younger than Natasha. Sensing your confusion, Natsha explains.

"We're his adopted daughters." She says, popping the cap of a beer on the edge of the bar with her palm and placing the bottle in front of his dad. "I moved to America a few years ago, so my accent has dwindled. Drink?"

You nod in understanding but feel a blush creep up your neck when you struggle to think of an acceptable non-alcoholic drink. "Just... um... a lemonade will do, please."

Natasha raises an eyebrow and snorts, shaking her head slightly but pours your lemonade as requested. When it's placed in front of you, you take a tentative sip, scrunching your nose as carbonated bubbles tickle your nostrils. It's watered down but bordering on room temperature, just a hint of lemon and artifical sweetness that makes you happy it's not just water. Alexei comments that they'll get you on something stronger soon enough.

"Hey now, I'm working tomorrow." You say playfully, not wanting to give the impression that you're intentionally not drinking any alcohol around them. You actually want the other members to like you, bizarrely enough. If they liked you, they may try to convince Bucky to be at least a little bit more lenient on you.

"So am I," Alexei chortles, swigging his beer.

Natasha snorts, her features softening slightly, leaning her arms on the bar. "Just don't offer to try his vodka."

"Hey!" Alexei protests with a pout and opens his arms defensively. "It's good vodka. Strong."

"Paint stripper." Yelena pipes up from the corner, not looking up from here phone.

"Secret recipe." Alexei counters before jumping to his feet when the heavy footfalls of one Bucky Barnes sound from behind the door Walker disappeared behind.

You don't rise but cradle your glass in your hand and watch as Bucky emerges. He still looks as good as the other day, which is infuriating, but now over his white t-shirt is a ragged, well-loved leather jacket with the White Wolf insignia and a few other patches stitched onto it.

Your eyes wander to the other members. Everyone, including Yelena, have stopped what they're doing to look up at Bucky.

"You came." Bucky addresses you with a grin, coming up beside you to lean on the bar. He seems slightly surprised you hadn't chickened out last minute even though you'd been tempted. You didn't know what they'd do to you but you knew you'd gain more respect by showing up.

"You invited me." You say simply. "It'd be rude not to accept such a generous invitation."

You barely manage to keep the sarcasm from your voice and give Bucky a toothy smile as Natasha places a beer in front of him without prompt. His blue eyes narrow in that way where he knows you aren't being entirely genuine but can't call you out on it and he sips at the bottle.

"Yeah." He says absently, before turning to the rest of the men, and few women, that stood behind him. "Everyone! This is the owner of the new bakery in town. The one whose been handing out freebies to Sam, Steve and myself."

Everyone remains silent and unmoving. You suddenly, and ironically, feel like a rabbit that's been thrown to the wolves. They are all waiting on Bucky.

Unease creeps up your spine. Maybe you'd bitten off more than you could chew. Bucky tells the club your name and tells them to treat you as a respected guest.

"Oh," you add, taking a sip of lemonade. "And I brought cupcakes."

"Cupcakes?" Bucky's smug expression falters. He's almost aghast. You'd done the unthinkable. The unimaginable.

You had been nice.

Bucky frowns. You're being too nice. Why are you being nice?

You smack the top of the box with unhindered delight; pleased that Bucky was at a loss for words and clearly struggling to keep his composure, wracking his brain to uncover your ploy. But you were as stubborn as he was aggravating.

"I wasn't sure how many of you were here." You say honestly, opening up the box compartments. "So, I made twenty-four in total."

"I... don't know what to say." Bucky says blankly staring into the box, revealing twenty-four beautifully decorated cupcakes of vanilla and chocolate.

"Thank you would be a start." Sam sneers and bursts into laughter. Bucky glares at him but there's no malice in it, only fondness, and his lips twitch upwards.

And you don't like how it made your stomach twist.

"Thank you, doll." Bucky nods graciously at you before waving a hand. "Alright have at them boys and gals."

You move out of the way as the bikers all move towards you and your seat at the bar, unintentionally moving towards Bucky, who'd plucked up a chocolate cupcake. His blue eyes are laser focused onto you and you see that sneer creep onto his lips as he bites down into the soft and fluffy treat.

"I'll introduce you to everyone, doll." He says, licking his lips free of chocolate. Unlike the pain au chocolat, the buttercream frosting was stickier and denser, forcing Bucky to run his tongue over his rose-pink plump lips. God, you hated him. "You already know Steve and Sam. And now you've met Walker, Nat, Alexei and 'Lena."

You nod along, eyes flickering to each member mentioned. Everyone is humming at the taste, Steve being in a total state with vanilla frosting and salted caramel sauce smeared all over him. You find yourself smiling at the sight of this rag-tag bunch of ruffians before you; one big family if you ever did see one.

You miss the look Bucky gives you, completely swept up in the excited compliments and Alexei practically begging you to bring more as he attempts to sneakily eat a second cupcake, ruined by Natasha's flicking of his ear with a soft chide.

"Told you ish good," Steve says around a mouthful of cake before nodding frantically with approval. "These are so good."

Bucky folds his arms and you can hear the leather creak behind you, humming thoughtfully, but ultimately saying nothing. Once everyone has finished eating, they go back to their places or games, which is when Bucky practically brings you around each and every member for a formal introduction.

There's Piertro; a silver haired boy racer who, according to Bucky, is a speedster.

"Likes the rush of going fast." Bucky rolled his eyes playfully.

Piertro shrugged in a cute fashion, flashing Bucky and you a grin. "What can I say? The ladies love it and I love the ladies."

He raises his eyebrows suggestively at you and goes to open his mouth before Bucky silences him by holding up a tattooed hand. "Dont even think about it, pal."

That earns Bucky a surprised giggle from you and a guffaw from the other young man next to him. He introduces himself as Joaquin and shakes your hand.

"Ignore him," He says, ignoring Piertro's gasp of mock-outrage. "We're the two youngest apart from Wanda and Yelena. It can get boring hanging about here sometimes."

"Does it?" Bucky queries with a cocked brow and Joaquin grins sheepishly at him, almost batting his eyelashes innocently.

"You know what I mean, Boss." He corrects softly. "Just, you know, gotta... go fast? To enjoy life?"

He looks hopeful but Bucky shakes his head with a smile. "You've been spending too much time with Sam."

Bucky takes you around to a few more equally scary bikers with a variety of nicknames, one of the more worrying ones being Punisher, but everyone seems to be okay that you're there. Well, okay that Bucky is okay with you being here. The only members you haven't met yet are Wanda, Piertro's twin sister who worked nights at one of the diners in town, and Lemar - Walker's best friend - who was busy with his family.

Two hours fly by. At some point, Sam hands you another lemonade, and you find yourself easily chatting and laughing with the notorious gang and you almost forget the whole reason you came. Bucky takes a back seat, strangely, watching you interact with everyone and occasionally chipping in with a smart-ass comment or a tease. You can feel his eyes on you with every movement you make, every joke you quip, every story you tell. Even when he and Steve exchange whispers, you catch him looking at you.

You had to admit, he's managed to make you feel a strange sense of unease. There's something exhilarating about the entire situation; you didn't think you'd get this far without having something burned, being injured or worse. You don't know what it is about Bucky and his mind games that gets you so riled but you're enjoying the fact that you're riling him up just as much.

You learn so much about the different people in the bar, save from Bucky, Walker and Punisher - who you now know is named Frank - who keep to themselves. It's oddly wholesome and sweet, the way these bikers, feared by the town, seem to have taken to you. All because you brought them cupcakes.

So your plan had worked. In a way.

At around midnight, you decide to call it quits, much to Joaquin and Alexei's disappointment as they were trying to convince you to play a game of darts with them.

"Sorry, boys. Up early for work." You try to sound more apologetic than tired, and stifle a yawn for effect. "If Bucky invites me back, I'll owe you a game."

Theres a brief moment of silence as everyone looks to Bucky; Joaquín and Alexei looking hopeful with puppy-dog eyes. Bucky, who's now standing and rolling a cigarette, sighs.

"It was an open invitation, doll. You're welcome here." He says, placing the butt of the cigarette between his lips. So distracting. "Come on, I'll walk you out."

You smile and thank him, a bucket of triumph washing over you. You knew it wasn't over - not by a long shot - but taking the White Wolves down from the inside, maybe even striking a deal with Bucky so you could keep your hard earned money, was a new prospect that you'd managed to earn for yourself and your business. And you were damn happy about that.

You said goodbye to everyone and, intimidation tactics aside, you really enjoyed yourself tonight. You told Bucky as much as you stepped out of the bar, shuddering at the cold breeze that travelled down the street.

"Thanks for the invite." You say, looking into the parking lot opposite your car to where the bikes all sat in neat rows.

"Which one is yours?" You ask politely, looking over the array of bikes. You don't know brands, you wouldn't be able to tell a Harley from a Yamaha, but you can see that they're all in excellent condition and well cared for.

"Guess." Bucky responds, lighting the cigarette and taking a drag. You want to roll your eyes but your night had been good so far, and you didn't want to spoil it now. Not when you'd made so much progress.

Your eyes trail the bikes. Plenty of variety in colour and size and make but there's one that sticks out the most; a mid-sized bike with a beautiful cherry red fuel tank and matching fuel guard with handlebars wide enough for a set of broad shoulders. You can immediately envisage Bucky on it, slouching in the low leather seat, ringed, tattooed hand on the throttle revving the engine. You can feel your skin prickle at the image and convince yourself it's because of the cool midnight air.

"That one," you point at the red bike.

Bucky laughs. "How did you know?"

"Wild guess." You half-lie with a shrug, clicking the unlock button on your car keys.

"We should go for a ride sometime." Bucky says casually, walking lazily behind you. He leans on the roof while you open the door, setting your sidebag behind your seat before getting in. Curls of smoke rise from the cigarette between his fingers, and you just know you'll be smelling tobacco all the way home.

"Hrm... maybe." You say, pretending to mull it over as you put your keys in the ignition. You pull your door shut and open the window, Bucky’s face immediately appearing beside yours.

"I think you'd look cute on the back of my ride," he says lowly, his eyes not leaving yours, daring you to look away first. "Arms wrapped around me tight, wind in your hair..."

"Neck snapping at one hundred miles and hour when I fall off." You shiver, hands gripping the steering wheel. "No thanks."

"Aw, come on doll," he persists giving you that charming sneer/smile that you couldn't tell if he was intentionally pushing your buttons or being a flirt. "It'd be fun. Tell you what, you do that, I'll let your payment for this month and next slide."

That piques your interest.

You look at him then to the road, grinding your teeth and hope Bucky mistakes it for a smile. Of course he'd say that. How could you refuse? Bastard.

"Oh... alright." You say, pretending to have some inner turmoil as your car engine stutters to life. "Just let me know when in case I need to close the café."

Bucky waves you off as you pull away from the pavement, and you watch him grow smaller in your rear view mirror. You heave a sigh and curse. You didn't want to be on his bike, or any bike for that matter. Your heart raced as did your brain imagining holding onto him as he sped along one of the long stretches of road and you bang your head against your steering wheel when you get to a red light.

You needed to figure out a way to get out of getting on Bucky’s bike. And soon.

It's 3am when you park your car two miles up the road from the bar a week later. You're ride with Bucky and the gang is supposed to be the next day, and in a last ditch attempt to give yourself an extra day to compose yourself, you'd hatched a plan. Arguably stupid but a plan nonetheless.

The night air has a slight chill but the moon is bright, illuminating the road to the parking lot where the White Wolves' bikes are kept.

You feel like a criminal. Hell, you would be a criminal after going through with this. However, points need to be made and if you're lucky it couldn't be officially linked back to you.

Dressed in all black, wishing you felt more like James Bond rather than a fool, you begin your trek to The Den, tugging a balaclava over your head when you get close to the lights of the parking lot.

All of the lights inside the building are out, on schedule. You couldn't believe you'd staked them out the last few nights. You were turning into a crazy person.

You are a crazy person.

When Bucky had shown you around, you'd made note of where all the cameras that had been placed, and realised they were dummies. Which of course they were; bar fights, ominous stains and other illegal activites that you'd heard were prevalent with biker gangs meant that they wouldnt want to incriminate themselves. You were glad you didn't have to worry about cutting any electricity but still, if you got caught and there were no cameras.... You shake your head and steel yourself; you had a job to do. A life to live. A ride to avoid.

You eye up Bucky's bike as you approach. Beautiful red petrol tank, thick tyres, low leather seat.

You smile against the wool of your balaclava; you'd buy yourself at least a few more days without having to see him. You plunge a thin nail through the first tyre, removing it slowly with your pliers. You listen closely as the tyre sighs in defeat and pathetically withers under the nail. You're triumphant. Now, you just have to get back to the car.

You - Two.

White wolves - Nil.

Chapter 2 - End

A/N: Happy Friday! And so it begins! I actually cut this chapter in half because I didn't want it getting too long. Plus I wanted to work a little on the ending

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separatist-apologist · 3 years ago

Text

Are You Ready For It

In the middle of the night, in my dreams, you should see the things we do

Summary: When Elain Archeron's roommate can't interview wealthy business man and school alumni Lucien Vanserra, Elain agrees to step in.

Little does she know what Mr. Vanserra does behind closed doors.

Or what he'd do to her, if she'd only agree to let him.

NOTE: Still a 50 shades of orange rewrite but without any of the problems with consent.

beta'd by the incomparable @the-lonelybarricade

Chapter 2: Every Lover Known In Comparison Is A Failure

Read more: Chapter 1 | AO3 | 15k words

It took two days for Elain’s results from the clinic to come back, which gave her plenty of time to think. Elain struggled to focus in her classes, her mind constantly wandering back to Lucien, utterly naked—practically a bronzed, muscular God with the thick, long cock of one, too—calling her baby, telling her she was a good girl. She knew there would be more. Lucien had explained he’d like to inject a little pain the next time they met just to see how she liked it.

Spanking, he’d said with a roguish smile before promising he’d eat her out afterwards as a reward.

And fuck Elain if she didn’t want to feel his mouth between her legs again. He’d sent her home the next morning after feeding her breakfast and it was all so normal that her only reservations were the acts themselves. She’d never been hit in the bedroom, had never been hurt in the bedroom. She’d been bored to tears, of course, and Elain wondered if maybe she couldn’t find some enjoyment in all of it. Take what she liked, leave what she didn’t.

She trusted Lucien to stop, if nothing else, and to respect her boundaries.

Elain was in her afternoon class when the e-mail popped up. She knew nothing was going to come up and still she was breathless sending him that screenshot as proof. Lucien had done the same the day before with a little winky emoji and a tongue emoji. Truly, they probably should have done it before she ever put his cock in his mouth but Elain considered it a risk worth taking given how good he tasted and how utterly sexy he was.

Lucien’s response was immediate.

Can I see you tonight?

She almost laughed.

You sound down bad, daddy.

If she was going to be spanked, might as well earn it. He liked a little sass both in and out of the bedroom even if he wanted eventual submission. She just had to figure out how to walk the line between the two. Elain had found some amount of pleasure in pleasing, and she couldn’t pretend she didn’t like being told what to do. She was still shy when it came to sex and men were always hoping they’d get some secret pornstar in the bedroom when really Elain wanted them to tell her what they wanted, and not the other way around.

Be careful.

She could practically hear the growl in her voice. She pressed her legs together, the lecture happening in front of her all but forgotten.

I can’t tonight. I work and Arina is dealing with something. Tomorrow I’m off…I could see you then?

And Lucien, predictable as ever, sent back:

I’ll send a car. Seven p.m., don’t eat.

That sounded ominous, though she bet it merely meant he wanted to feed her. Elain hoped there would be no deconstructed meals, at least…and maybe a little vodka. Assuring him she was looking forward to it, Elain slid her phone back into her bag and returned to her lecture.

After, Elain biked directly to the florist to pick up the evening shift. It was quiet at night, giving Elain time to work on arrangement and, when she ran out of projects, to do homework in the quiet. Since Arina had ended things with Jack, their apartment had peace. They’d cleaned the apartment top to bottom in an attempt to remove the smell of him and yesterday, when Elain came home, she’d found a sweet burning candle that didn’t have his unwashed odor battling it for dominance.

In the past, though, getting homework done in the floral shop was essential given Jack was either loudly playing his video games or loudly fucking Arina into boredom. Arina had confessed it had been at least a year, maybe more, since he’d made her finish. She supposed that was what had been so attractive about Eris Vanserra—his willingness to eat a woman out.

Arina said she didn’t want Eris which was a shame considering how much he obviously wanted her. He’d sent a massive bouquet of flowers Elain had fished out of the trash, if only not to waste something both so pretty and expensive. She understood Arina’s hesitation. To admit she was interested was a betrayal of her feelings for Jack…whatever those were. And it proved him right.

Jack was the other problem Elain couldn’t get over. She returned home late in the evening to find him waiting inside the lobby. He had a key to get into their building though in truth he probably could have just pulled really hard on the door, given how flimsy it was. He was pacing back and forth in a surprisingly nice shirt, for him at least. Still cargo shorts, still floppy, messy brown hair she was certain was unwashed.

His eyes narrowed when he saw her come in. Choosing to ignore him, Elain went for the stairs, adjusting her backpack.

“This is your fault,” he called after her retreating back. “You got in her head.”

“You messed this up all by yourself,” Elain retorted, irritated by how Jack refused to take even a shred of accountability. Pausing on the third step, Elain turned to face him. He was doing a decent job of swallowing his hatred but she was prepared to run up the steps if that changed.

“You started that fucking fight–”

“I never hoped you died!” Elain bit back, surprised her feelings were hurt. “And she was right. You should get a job.”

“I have a job, bitch!” he spat. Jack couldn’t go five minutes without reminding her how much he hated her. Elain only rolled her eyes.

“Jobs pay people. Arina works hard—”

“Shaking her fucking ass,” Jack spat, taking a step towards Elain. “Like a fucking slut. Of course she’s making money with her tits hanging out of her shirt. You could too, if you weren’t such a frigid bitch.”

“Great,” Elain replied. “Good talk.”

She turned her back and glanced at her phone. Lucien had sent her a picture, distracting her the moment she realized it was a picture of his penis rather tastefully shot. Erect and clutched in his big hand, Elain could appreciate the sheer largeness of him. His hand covered him entirely but only half of his penis.

Something hard collided with Elain’s back, knocking the breath from her body. She slammed to the dingy, smelly carpet before her brain could catch up, still holding her phone.

“What the—”

That same roughness caught her upside the face and too late, she realized it was Jack. Jacks fist that had punched her in the back and hit her in the face. Jack, dragging her up the steps by her hair and straddling her chest, hands around her throat.

Elain kicked, shoving at his face as she screamed furiously. He cut off her air, squeezing until she choked. Awash in panic, Elain scratched and pulled at him, terrified by the dark, empty expression on his face. He was going to kill her.

The glass door beneath them wrenched open. “What the fuck?” came a dark, masculine voice. Jack released her as feet thundered up the steps. Elain gasped loudly, choking and crying as she rubbed at her neck. Her vision went black for a moment as she fought to catch her breath. The sound of something wet rattled in her head as a warm hand touched her back.

“You okay?”

“Who the fuck is this?”

She blinked. Eris Vanserra was looking down at her, holding more flowers in one bleeding, bruised hand. Jack was pacing the bottom of the steps like a wild, wounded animal.

“I’m calling the cops.”

“No,” Elain gasped. Their landlord had very few rules, but a call from the cops always led to an eviction. “No, I’m fine it was…” God how did she even try and rationalize this?

“Who the fuck is this, Elain?”

Brazen. He was so unrepentant. Elain needed to talk to Arina, needed to figure something else out. There were going to have to move.

“Eris Vanserra, I—”

“We’re dating,” she managed, cutting Eris off before he could figure out who Jack was and what Arina had done. “He’s my boyfriend and you need to leave before I change my mind about the police.

“This isn’t over,” Jack warned. “I want to talk to Arina. You tell her to fucking call me back.”

“Arin–dat—this better be fucking over!” Eris snarled after Jack’s retreating back, still crouched over Elain. “What the fuck–”

Elain shoved at his chest. “You should leave, too. What is wrong with you? She said she didn’t want to talk to you.”

Outrage flooded over Eris’s handsome features. “You’re welcome for not letting you die.”

“I would have been fine,” she dismissed, rising shakily to her feet. “He wouldn’t…” but Elain wasn’t so sure Jack wouldn’t have killed her in his rage.

“Call the police,” Eris ordered. He wasn’t her boyfriend and he wasn’t her boss.

“Mind your own business, Eris.”

Amber eyes flashed at her pure defiance, and too late, she wondered if he wasn’t just like his brother. Elain grabbed her phone and her backpack and stomped up the steps, tears pricking at the back of her eyes. It felt like too much. Elain only hesitated when she realized why Jack must have been waiting in the lobby instead of upstairs. Had Arina picked up a shift? Was he planning to intercept her?

“That’s Arina’s ex,” she said, ignoring the way her throat burned. “I think he’s waiting for her.”

Fury flooded over Eris’s features. “I’ll–”

“If he finds out she slept with you, it’ll only make things worse for her,” Elain told him. A reminder that his rage would fall unfairly on Arina’s already tired shoulders. Clearly warring his own need to revenge against his desire not to find Arina being strangled in an apartment lobby, Eris nodded tightly.

“Can you check on her at work? Maybe…maybe drive her home tonight? She doesn’t have a car. Tell her I asked but don’t tell her why.”

Eris’s eyes slid down her body. “She’ll know,” he warned, jerking his head towards her neck. “Everyone is going to know. You should let me drive you to the emergency room.” Elain shook her head, already tapping a message out to Lucien.

Change of plans. Let's meet next week.

“I’m fine,” she lied, though a little food and some trashy television could fix this. “You’ll check on Arina?”

Eris nodded tightly, clearly warring between his concern for the girl he liked and his concern for Elain. She forced herself to smile, hoping the bruising wasn’t too bad. Elain swallowed and trudged back to her apartment, dropping her backpack by the door. Just as she’d thought, Arina was gone with an apology note on the counter regarding their canceled plans. It was for the best—what if Jack had done that to Arina?

Elain changed from her jeans into sleep shorts and a tank before she dared to go into the bathroom and survey the damage. Her eyes were bright and her neck red and swollen. Little fingerprint bruises bloomed against her skin. She’d always marked up easily. Like a peach, her dad had joked. It wasn’t funny now. Scarves would hide the worst of it but there would be no Lucien until they faded.

It should have been fine. Elain settled on the couch, a bag of chips between her legs, when a pounding on the door dragged her away from Love Island.

Fucking nosy, busybody Eris, she grumbled. Had he drove by, ensured Arina was fine for the moment, and circled back to annoy her?

“You’re so…” Elain wrenched open the door, intending to tell Eris he was stupid, only to find his brother on the other end. Lucien’s eyes immediately zeroed in on her neck. He’d tattled?

Lucien didn’t wait for an invitation to step inside, still dressed from work. Too late, the door shut behind him, Elain wondered if Lucien hadn’t come straight from work. He ran a hand through his hair, mouth opening and shutting like a fish.

“I’m fine,” she said with exasperation. Had this man ever done friends with benefits? Elain hadn’t, but she was pretty sure running to her rescue fell outside his required expectations.

“You called,” he finally said, his voice a rough rasp. “I heard…”

She’d been staring at his dick, distracted by his naked body when Jack had hit her. In her confusion, her hand must have slipped. “I didn’t mean to,” she said quickly. Lucien’s hand covered his mouth for a moment, eyes wide. Blinking, he came towards her, running his fingers over her face.

“He hit you.”

Elain nodded, biting her bottom lip.

“What did I tell you about people touching what’s mine?”

Her stomach splattered at her feet. Was he serious right now? A furious tear slid down her cheek. “You’re going to punish me–”

“No,” he interrupted quickly, guiding her back to the couch. “Not you. Never you. You’re my good girl, keeping yourself safe.”

And fuck if that didn’t ease the tension building in her chest. She let him pull her into his lap, bracketing her body with his strong thighs. Elain buried her face into his bicep, forehead pressed into the couch. She was shaking, unsure when that had even started. Lucien stroked her hair with gentle fingers.

“You were right to call me,” he murmured. “It’s my job to keep you safe…to care for you. Remember?”

No one had ever taken care of Elain. Some part of her wasn’t sure she even knew how to be cared for.

“You can’t do anything,” she whispered. Lucien’s body went stiff beneath her and she knew he didn’t like being told what he could and could not do. She twisted to look at him, drinking in his fury and his concern. “He’ll hurt Arina, you’ll just make things worse. Please,” she added, Lucien didn’t yield, didn’t budge an inch.

“So next time am I supposed to just listen to him kill you and hope Eris gets there in time?” She’d never heard him sound so furious, so cold.

“No, I…I can be more careful—”

“You aren’t responsible for preventing your own murder, baby,” Lucien murmured. “What are you thinking?”

“We should probably move,” she whispered miserably, well aware they could barely afford it. She couldn’t tell him that, though. What did a man like Lucien, who lived in a sprawling two story penthouse in the sky, understand about the realities of housing. Still, it clearly pacified him. He rubbed his thumbs over her cheeks.

“That’s a good plan.”

She didn’t know how they’d make that work. Lucien didn’t need to know everything. He was still half a stranger to her, and a bossy one at that.

“You should let me buy you a car,” he murmured. Elain jerked.

“No,” she breathed. “No, I have a—”

“A bike,” he agreed. “Yes, I know. It could just be a loan while we’re…together…” he said, wincing at the word together. “You don’t have to agree to keep it forever though I do consider it a gift.”

“A gift is a necklace,” Elain replied, her heart pounding in her chest. “Not a car.”

“If you want a necklace, I can–”

“No, Lucien, you’re not understanding. I’m not asking you for jewelry. I was…a car is too much.”

“It would make me feel better, to give this to you,” Lucien replied softly, pressing his mouth against her cheek. “To take care of you.”

“This wasn’t in the contract,” she whispered. Lucien smiled.

“I said I wanted to take care of my good girl. What did you think that meant?”

“Sex,” she replied automatically. Lucien only shook his head, silently scolding her for not realizing the wealthy deviant also wanted to be her sugar daddy. Elain didn’t know how to process that in the wake of everything else.

“Am I allowed to tell you no?”

“No,” he replied automatically. “But you can come with me and pick out what you like.”

Elain was going to murder him. “So…this is what gets you off?”

Lucien shrugged. “Did you think it was all pain, no pleasure?”

“I guess I don’t see how spending thousands of dollars is pleasurable.”

Lucien kissed the tip of her nose. “What incentive does my little brat have to behave if I’m not taking good care of her?”

“Brats can be spoiled–”

“Brats should be spoiled,” he insisted. “And daddy’s good girl gets rewarded for taking a gift without being difficult about it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbled, reclining back against his chest. “It sounds like daddy’s good girl just goes along with whatever unhinged idea daddy had and doesn’t complain.”

“Now you’re getting it,” Lucien praised, kissing the side of her neck. “And if you and Arina need a place to lay low for a while, you can always borrow my apartment.”

“Let’s just…one thing at a time, okay?”

Lucien pressed his chin against her head. “Fine. What are you watching?”

“Love Island,” she admitted with only a small amount of shame. Graysen had loathed Elain’s guilty pleasures and she expected Lucien to demand she change the channel, too.

“Turn it on,” he murmured. “And explain to me what’s happening.”

Elain suppressed the warmth blooming through her in favor of inhaling the strong scent of him.

And began explaining her show.

LUCIEN:

“Close the door,” Lucien told Beth when his brother came in the next day. He’d cleared his schedule, in part because he was taking Elain to a dealership to pick out a car. That was at least fun.

He could torment her a little, work her up and do the one thing Lucien had always enjoyed, which was spoiling the women he fucked. He had no intention of ever taking that car back. What would he do with it?

Eris held a heavy envelope in his hand, tossing it to Lucien’s desk as he sat in one of the chairs.

“Jack Rogden,” Eris said without preamble. “Two semesters at the community college, a solid D average. He’s got an online presence if you ever want to read true drivel.” Eris shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “They’ve been dating for almost four years.”

Better Eris than Lucien. “Anything usable?”

“No. He doesn’t work, his parents are just like him…he doesn’t have enough followers he’d be embarrassed if anyone found out…and honestly his followers seem the type that might praise him for putting a woman in her place.”

Lucien’s gut tightened. “You know…I have a decent relationship with Rhys—”

“No. No mafia, for fucks sake,” Eris snapped. “Lord knows what he’d find sniffing around a college campus. I don’t want the media involved at all. We handle this between us.”

“How?” Lucien reclined back in his chair, thinking of Elain’s perfect neck covered in ugly purple bruises. Just the memory filled Lucien with a blinding rage. Rubbing his hands over his eyes,

Lucien waited for Eris to come up with a solution.

“We needed to get them out of that shithole.”

“Elain said—”

“Mm, yes, tell me more about what the girl making eleven dollars an hour told you about her living situation,” Eris sneered, reminding Lucien that he was too divorced from the realities of everyday life. He shifted uncomfortably. He barely knew this woman. A car was one thing…an apartment was something else.

“I’ll put the girls up for now,” Eris said decisively. “Maybe condemn that entire place. I know that fire escape isn’t up to code.”

“Put them up where?”

Eris considered for a moment. “It depends on what Arina will let me get away with. The estate, if she’s willing. No one is out there, it’s a good place to lay low. I’ve got a place I never use downtown, that’s pretty close to campus. Or a fucking hotel if she’s going to be difficult. They can have the penthouse at the Starlight.”

“Just start with the Starlight.” He knew full well they’d balk at anything more. “I’ll talk to Elain.”

Eris grimaced. “Maybe you should talk to Arina, too.”

“You do that. Someone needs to impress upon her how serious this is and frankly, I don’t think Elain is doing that at all. You saw what happened. You tell her she’s going if you have to drag her there yourself. And then fucking make good on it.”

And that was that. Eris seemed a little more settled, if nothing else. Lucien, too, felt better by the time Elain arrived, pretty as a picture in a soft plum coat dress and navy tights. Her little brown booties were scuffed and he wondered how much of her clothing was second hand and how much was just well-loved. Jess had never worn anything so often she might damage it and the comparison between the two was stark.

Elain plopped into the chair on the opposite end of his desk, pulling her crossbody over her head and tossing it to the chair beside her.

“Mr. Vanserra.”

His whole body went tight all over again. “Say it again. See what happens.”

“You keep teasing me about sex and yet…” she gestured around her, looking about with exaggeration. “Here I am. Unfucked.”

“Needy,” he replied, eyes sliding to his watch. “We got an appointment first.”

“For this car,” Elain all but sneered. “Because you get off–”

“Spoiling my girl,” Lucien interrupted smoothly. “Exactly. So you’ll go and pick out something expensive while my dick stays rock hard in my pants. And when he get home, I’ll put you on your hands and knees and fuck the brattiness right out of you.”

And fuck Lucien, but Elain shivered at his words. “Okay,” she murmured, a reminder that all she really needed was a firm hand. He was semi-hard already just at the thought. Taking a calming breath, Lucien stood.

“The sooner we go, the sooner you’re fucked.”

“And what will it entail?”

“Depends on how much you intend to test me while we’re out. I’ll be counting how many spanks you’ve earned in my head all day.”

Elain’s eyes tightened at the side. “No more than ten…just to start.”

Fair enough. Reasonable, even. And Lucien was well-practiced enough to make ten spanks count. He nodded. “Deal.”

Ever so shyly, Elain came towards him, phone in hand. “I feel like you want to buy me something new—”

“I do,” he agreed, curious at the picture on her screen.

“They don’t make them anymore,” she said and of course Elain, with flower hair pins pulling curls off her face, and her lilac colored nails, wanted a VW Beetle. He looked at the picture she’d pulled up, of the lot the yellow car stood on with more than forty thousand miles to its name. When he’d given Jess a car, she’d spent half a million dollars on a flashy, two-door sports car Lucien was sure she still had. And Elain wanted to buy a car for less than twenty thousand dollars. Where had he found her, he marveled, pulling the phone from her hand, just to see where the car sat. Lucien was willing to bet he could haggle. It felt so odd. Maybe she didn’t understand what was happening. The whole point was to spend his money, to be absurd about it.

“You want this?” he asked, disbelief lacing every world.

Elain tucked a curl behind her ear. “I know it’s a lot. I ah…there are other, but this is the right color–”

She reached for her phone to show him her back-ups but Lucien held it out of reach, his outrage etched over his face. “A lot? Baby, this is nothing. If you want it, you can have it. You could have five of them.”

“Just one is fine,” Elain told him, eyes sliding to her feet. “And it’s only a loan.”

He snorted. “Not at this price. If you want this, you have to keep it. What am I going to do with it when we’re done?”

She shrugged. “What about the other girl—”

“They never once assumed they wouldn’t be keeping the things I gave them,” Lucien replied smoothly, brushing a finger over her face. No bruise, at least that he could see, and the high neck of her dress hid the fingerprints he knew that were lurking just beneath.

Elain sighed softly. “I just wanted no strings attached sex, Lucien.”

“Mmm,” he agreed, putting a hand on her back without admitting that he’d purchased her a lot of very expensive, very sexy lingerie. Truly, that was a gift for himself given he wanted to drip candle wax all over her tits while she wore it. Still, Elain needed to get used to this aspect of things because in every other relationship he’d had, it was merely a given. He didn’t want to have to fight her over something so trivial.

They left for the dealership without squabble. Elain kept crossing and uncrossing her legs while Lucien spoke, deferring to him through thick, dark lashes. Lucien couldn’t help himself as he put a hand on her thigh, rubbing lazy circles over the thin fabric of her tights. He paid in cash and Elain drove it off the lot. It was in his name for the moment—he’d pay the taxes on it before selling it to her for ten dollars, sparing Elain a gift tax penalty he knew she couldn’t afford.

Trotting after him back into his place, Elain was bouncy and filled with appreciative words. She was too easy to impress. A little pussy eating, a little gift giving and she was practically a purring kitten at his feet. She wanted to please him now. That suited Lucien just fine because he wanted to eat pussy and he wanted her to please him.

“Are you happy?” he asked, cupping her face after leading her to the bedroom. Elain’s cheeks were flushed, eyes bright.

“Yes,” she admitted.

“Good. Come here,” he added, dragging her to the bed and setting her in his lap. “We need to discuss one more thing.”

She did as she was told without an ounce of wariness. This was working. He liked it too much. “I want you to move out of your apartment.”

The fire in her eyes was immediately extinguished. Planting her hands against his chest, Elain shoved. Lucien held her tight.

“You and Arina. Eris has a place at the Starlight. It’s just temporary while you two find somewhere else. Somewhere safe,” he added.

“Lucien,” she protested but this was too reasonable and to be frank, Elain was well under the budget he mentally laid out for her.

“It’s already paid for,” he told her. “Whether someone sleeps there or not. You’ve got the car, you can drive to work and school and Arina can borrow it too. I just want to know you’re safe,” he added, clasping his hand softly around her neck.

Elain swallowed hard. “We’ll be okay—”

“Baby,” he interrupted, nuzzling his nose against her own. “He hurt you. He could have killed you if Eris wasn’t there. The Starlight has a doorman and a reception desk…and cameras. No one but Eris and I have to know you’re there. Your last year of school shouldn’t be so stressful.”

Let me do what I promised you I would, he added silently.

“It’s not forever?” she asked, eyes big and trusting. Lucien kissed the corner of her mouth.

“Only temporary. When you find somewhere you two like, you can leave and no one will stop you.”

A half truth. Lucien wouldn’t stop Elain but he suspected his brother wouldn’t be satisfied until Arina was in his bed and draped in the Vanserra last name.

“Okay,” she agreed.

“Good girl,” he praised.

“Was I good while we were out?” she asked him hopefully. Lucien didn’t have the heart to give her all ten, though he had made a case for it in his mind.

“Why were you crossing your legs so much?” he murmured. “Were you trying to distract me?”

“No,” she breathed, eyes mischievous.

“I think you’re lying,” he replied, all the blood in his body flooding south. “Take off your dress, let's see what’s underneath.”

Elain’s eyes went wide, her fingers fiddling in her lap. “I can’t…the zipper is in the back.”

Lucien reached for the little white piece of metal and pulled it down, revealing a pretty, hot pink bra…and nothing else. God, he could have kissed her. “Liar,” he breathed against the back of her neck, unclasping her bra to rid her of every stitch of clothing. “Where are your panties, Elain?”

“I forgot them,” she said, as if she hadn’t put tights on. Lucien was achingly tight and unbearably hard. She squirmed against his erection.

Lucien slid his hands between her legs, delighted to see she was wet. “More lies, baby girl. What did I say about lying?” Elain said nothing at all, not as he twisted her in his lap until her ass was in the air, her face buried against the pillow.

“I’m sorry,” she said, not sounding terribly sorry at all. Lucien rubbed the tight, rounded flesh with his palm, delighted by how his hand covered the whole of her ass cheek.

“Five spanks. Isn’t that right?”

She whimpered and Lucien trusted her to use the safe word if she needed to while he prayed she didn’t. “What happened to my good girl, baby?”

Elain looked over her shoulder at him. “I want to be. I thought you’d like it if I didn’t wear them.”

“I don’t like being teased,” he lied, still kneading her flesh. “All I could think about was that wet pussy of yours. Do you know how hard I was all day?”

“I’m sorry, daddy.”

Fuck. Lucien swallowed a groan, bringing his hand down for that first slap. He didn’t hit her as hard as he wanted to, promising he’d ease her into it. Elain’s eyes went wide, tears springing to those big, doe eyes. “Count for me, baby.”

“One,” she whispered.

Lucien throbbed in his pants. Four more and he’d have his cock in her cunt, fucking away those bright tears. He slapped again, hitting the opposite cheek to give her a second to breathe. Elain gasped louder, which might have earned her an extra had they not already negotiated the first five. A tear slipped down her cheek.

“Two.”

Lucien spanked again, and again, and again, and Elain counted each in turn. Her ass was red from his hand and warm to the touch. He was certain she’d have broken had he done many more and was grateful they’d discussed it ahead of time. Lowering his mouth, he kissed each side of her ass while she twisted to watch.

“Are you going to be my good girl now? No more brattiness?”

Elain gulped, nodding her head.

“Come here,” he said, ignoring that her pussy had been on his thigh the entire time. Elain scrambled, letting him pull her back into his lap. “Undress me.”

“Yes, daddy,” she breathed, unknotting his tie with nimble fingers. Lucien didn’t move though some part of him wanted to instinctually. Elain had it off him, followed by his vest and then his shirt, baring his skin to the cool air.

“Pants, too,” he told her, laying backwards so she could slide down his body. Elain smiled ever so slightly, that spark of mischief back, despite the redness of her eyes. She had him naked quicker than he’d imagined, her mouth brushing against his cock without ever touching.

“What days are you off next week?”

“Wednesday and Friday.”

“Do you have class?”

“Not on Friday.”

Fuck, yes. “I want you to come to my office that day.”

“Why?”

His eyes snapped to her face and Elain immediately lowered her gaze.

“Sorry, daddy. I’ll come.”

“Good girl.” Fuck, Lucien wanted to hear her say that wrapped around his cock. Elain slid back on her haunches, staring down at his body with bright eyes. “How much more can you take?” Elain shivered, her pert breasts jiggling ever so slightly.

“Whatever you tell me to.”

God, he was losing his mind.

“Ride me,” he ordered, impressed by how in control he sounded. Elain immediately straddled his hips, rocking her pussy against his achingly hard cock. Lucien reached for her hips, prolonging it for a moment.

“It won’t always be like this,” he whispered. “I want to tie you up.”

“Yeah?” she breathed, slotting him carefully into her body. Lucien wasn’t going to let her sink onto him slowly. He still craved that little bite of pain, wanted to see it on her face. He yanked her onto him, well aware his cock was both thick and long. She gasped, her face contorting for a moment and despite his promise he wanted pain, Lucien stilled for a moment while Elain adjusted.

“Not used to a big cock?” he breathed because fuck she was so tight he could barely see straight.

“No,” she agreed, rolling her hips experimentally. Lucien groaned loudly, suddenly feeling very submissive beneath her touch. He didn’t like it—it was far too vulnerable, too intimate for what they were. Clamping his thighs around her, Lucien had Elain on her back before she could go any further.

Another soft gasp escaped her lips, punctuated by a moan when he thrust into her. He felt right again, felt in control. Grabbing her knees and spreading her legs open wide, Lucien began sliding himself in and out of her impossibly tight, almost sloppy with wet pussy. He wanted to watch her take him, wanted to see the puckering skin that protested when he pulled himself out to the tip, only to slam himself back inside.

“Does my pretty girl like daddy’s cock?” he breathed, teetering on the edge of his sanity. Lucien couldn’t remember having ever felt a pussy this good, though in his defense, it had been a while since he’d last gotten laid.

Elain whined, head thrown back, eyes closed.

“Open your eyes,” he ordered. “You take what daddy gives you and you’ll watch.”

She nodded, her eyes fogged with the same heavy lust coiling in his stomach. He could barely think straight, could not have told her his name if she’d asked it. Elain’s desire was tacky against the skin of his cock, pulling with each new slide.

“Can you come like this? Don’t lie.

“No,” she breathed. He ought to have guessed. Letting her hook her heel against his naked shoulder, Lucien began rubbing her clit with his thumb, using the slickness of her body to lubricate the touch. Her whole demeanor changed, grinding and whining like the greedy, needy thing he remembered from before. He liked the sight of her beneath him, flushed and undone, legs spread obscenely wide as she panted and begged.

“Do you need more?” he grunted, clenching his ass to keep himself from coming prematurally.

“Yes.”

“Beg.”

Elain looked at him for a moment, defiance flashing in her eyes. He knew what she was thinking. He was in her body and in every way that mattered, Elain held all the power. She could simply stop him and ask him to leave and he’d have no choice in the matter. Still, Lucien asked because he wanted to hear her beg him to come.

“Daddy, please,” Elain whined, arching her hips invitingly. She’d inadvertently pushed him deeper, changing the angle so his cock head was touching something soft and spongy. The noise that ripped from Lucien was barely human. Each new slide was better than the last, heightening his already hot pleasure. “Please let me come.”Lucien had forgotten their game in that moment, at least a little. Pumping wildly, the best he could do was keep his thumb rubbing, faster now until Elain screamed, tightening and convulsing around him. She was wetter, slicker and impossibly soft. The feel of her was maddening, would drive him insane. He already wanted to fuck her again and Lucien hadn’t even come.

He was just behind, the sound of their slick skin slapping loudly. He wasn’t embarrassed by the noise that escaped him, though it was new. He was usually much quieter. Something about her pussy specifically made Lucien forget himself, at least a little. Made him feel feral, a little wild.

It took him a moment to come back down.

“Vodka,” Elain breathed, reaching for his shoulders. “And a little mercy, while you’re at it.”

Lucien nodded. She didn’t understand the game entirely. It was over, at least for the moment. He fully intended to offer her some sweetness and care after the fucking he’d just given her. Careful not to crush her, Lucien held her against his body, stroking her hair and kissing the side of her jaw.

“That was good,” he panted, his cock still twitching in her body. She nodded, exhaling a breath. He wasn’t ready for her to leave—not yet. He wanted to have her again…and maybe again, in the morning.

Spending the night was a huge rule violation. He’d even put it in his contract. And still, he thought she’d already done it once when they were testing things between them…why not again? She understood what this was.

“Hungry?” he asked, looking down at her sated, sweet face.

“Starving.”

ELAIN:

“Vassa’s wedding is this weekend,” Arina reminded Elain, tossing a pink wrapped package into her lap. “You’re still going, right?”

“Yeah,” Elain agreed, tugging at the gold ribbon with dread in her stomach. “Are you?”

They were in the middle of packing for the Starlight. Elain wondered what Eris Vanserra had said to her stubborn friend to convince her to leave. Arina’s eyes slid to Elain’s throat, the bruises fading and perhaps Eris hadn’t had to say much at all. She knew Arina was carrying around too much unfair guilt over Jack’s actions. Elain didn’t blame Arina for what happened.

“Yes. I don’t want to go alone, though.”

Pulling off the top of the lid, Elain groaned.

“What is it?”

It was a rose gold macbook. Brand new and unasked for. Lucien, it seemed, had decided he’d go around her and merely gift her the things he wanted her to have. Elain had stashed all the lacy underthings he’d bought, ignoring the obscene price tags as she snipped them off. It was twice her rent over six little scraps of cloth and Lucien had merely sent it over without a care in the world.

Arina smiled when she saw it. “He’s got it back, huh?”

“It’s his fetish,” Elain tried to explain. Arina had already seen the car parked in the back lot because Elain had given her the spare set of keys so she wouldn’t have to walk to work anymore.

“Sign me up,” Arina joked, joining Elain on the couch.

“Is that not what the Senator is trying to do?” Elain replied, glancing sidelong at her friend. Arina choked on the air she breathed.

“No.”

Elain knew better than to push, but Eris hadn’t offered up the penthouse at the nicest hotel in the city because he suddenly cared about the girl his brother was fucking. He’d done it for Arina, a girl he’d had a one night stand with. Perhaps Eris was trying to wrangle more from Arina than Lucien wanted from Elain.

Clearing her throat, Arina continued. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Elain looked back down at the laptop. “Seeing Lucien.”

Some rational part of her told her not to go. Send back the gifts, end this game before it went too far. Before she started to like what was happening. Elain could still feel his cock bruising her insides in the most delicious way, could still feel his mouth against her body. She wanted to feel all of it instead of the disjointed way he’d been fucking her and in order to get it, at least once, she’d go see whatever utter nonsense he had planned for her.

Arina leveled a look that told Elain she only barely approved of what was happening between them. “But you’ll be ready for Vassa’s wedding?”

Elain swallowed her annoyance. “I’m not spending the night. Just seeing him for a few hours during the day. I will be very ready for Vassa’s wedding.”

“Good. I was supposed to go with Jack–”

“Ugh.”

“And I can’t stand to go alone when you know everyone else will have their husbands and boyfriends.”

“Invite Eris–

“No.”

And that was that.

Walking back into Lucien’s office was exactly the same as before. The only difference, she supposed, was when her heeled feet hit the lobby on the ground floor, she’d texted him to tell him she was coming up…and she was wearing the pink silk he’d sent over in a blue ribboned box. His receptionist had just as bad of an attitude and when Elain asked to see Mr. Vanserra, she asked, “More questions?” with a sneer that said she knew exactly why Elain was there. Elain didn’t respond to that, merely taking her spot on that sunken couch.

And Lucien sure took his time, dragging it out for fifteen minutes. Elain wasn’t playing this game with him. She still needed to get her nails done for tomorrow. She stood, earning a triumphant look from the blonde.

“Tell Lucien—”

“Tell him yourself,” came Lucien’s bossy, deep voice. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Ms. Archeron. Let's discuss that scholarship.”

Asshole, she thought, giving him the once over in his well-fitted suit. Nothing seemed out of place. He was the consummate professional in that moment, right until he closed his door behind him, locking it quietly. “Look at you,” he murmured and she knew what he wanted was to slip right into their game.

“You made me wait,” Elain told him, crossing her arms over her chest. Lucien smiled, clearly pleased with the dynamic. He reached for her face, caressing her cheek.

“I’m so sorry baby. Let me make it up to you.”

“How?”

Lucien dropped his hand, walking for his desk to sit. “I am trapped in meeting hell today. Come make it better for me.”

He was undoing his pants, sliding the belt from the loops and wrapping it around his broad hand. Elain’s mouth dried, watching with fascination until he slipped it into a drawery just beside him. She could see the motions of him undoing his pants and assumed he must be hard in some capacity. He groaned softly when he was finished, his trousers around his ankles.

“Come here,” he whispered. She did, practically tripping in her excitement. His cock was rigid, standing proudly at attention. Waiting. “Sit on me, baby. Keep me comfortable.”

“You…” she didn’t understand.

Lucien reached for her waist, drawing her between his lightly haired, muscular thighs. “Warm my cock for the next hour.”

“Won’t someone see?”

Lucien was lifting her black dress up over her hips, fingers rubbing the fabric of her underwear. He wasn’t listening to her at all. “Did I buy these?”

“Yes,” she whispered when he pushed the fabric to the side so he could explore her pussy.

“They’re pretty,” he said, pulling her closer until her bare thighs were rubbing against his erection. “Are you going to warm daddy's cock? Or am I going to bend you over my desk and spank you?”

“I’ll warm it,” she whispered, a thrill rising through her. Lucien groaned softly, turning her to palm her ass cheek.

“Good girl,” he murmured, lowering her against him. She didn’t know the rules of the game, didn’t know exactly what he meant. He was teasing, letting her sink against him slowly, readjusting to his thick length.

“That’s it, baby. You take daddy’s cock so well,” he praised, sweeping her hair to the side to press a kiss to her neck. “When we’re done, you’ll suck it, too.”

“Yes, daddy,” she agreed, squirming when he didn’t start thrusting.

“Don’t move,” he warned her, one hand holding her hip. He had her legs spread obscenely across his lap, her back pressed against his chest. Elain was going to die. Inhaling a breath, Elain thought if he didn’t move maybe this would be bearable. Of course Lucien, a man who got off on pain, immediately surged forward, changing the angle of his cock and driving himself deeper into her. She whimpered loudly, earning a soft slap against her spread open pussy.

“Don’t do that again,” Lucien warned her seriously. It was on the tip of her tongue, to tell him this game was a mistake given he was doing a job. She nearly told him dragging her to his office so he could torture her while he took work calls was a recipe for disaster.

But Lucien, perhaps sensing the direction of her thoughts, merely using that same slapping hand to rub soft circles over her clit, silencing her protests.

“What did I tell you about good girls, Elain?” he asked, his voice hot against her ear. “What does my good girl get?”

“Her pussy eaten.”

She felt his lips smile against the side of her neck. “That’s right. Now sit still and keep my cock comfortable.”

His ringing phone made her jump, dragging his cock with her. Lucien groaned loudly, fingers digging in her hip. “I mean it,” he rasped, slapping her wet pussy a second time. She exhaled a gasp, the sting mingling with the heady pleasure of being filled. “If I have to take you off me I’m going to gag you with my cock.”

“Yes, daddy. I’ll be good.”

Anything to feel his face between her legs. Lucien ate pussy like a rabid animal and there was something absurdly erotic about the though of him spreading her over his desk, knees over his shoulders, while he took his time. Lucien answered his call, his voice clear. Easy. She didn’t hear an actual word he said, choosing instead to turn her head and look towards his tinted windows. No one could see them, though she could see with perfect clarity. People, unaware of what their boss was currently up to, milled about their desks and the common space. Elain picked a rather unremarkable man, tracking him in an effort to keep herself from thinking about how Lucien’s cock was twitching in her body.

He wasn’t immune to what was happening, though his voice sure made it seem like he was. While Lucien moved about, pulling open a spreadsheet on his computer and reclining as he listened, she could feel the rough pound of his heart beating against her own slick cunt. He kept brushing his lips behind her ear, letting her feel his ragged breathing before some comment from the tinny voices coming through his speaker dragged him back to reality.

How Lucien managed to multitask through this moment was beyond Elain. All she wanted was to roll her hips, to feel him thrust into her until there was nothing but the wet slap of skin punctuating the air. She wanted that man, the one she was still half watching, to hear her desperate moans.

Time was utterly meaningless. One hour dragged into another until Elain was practically sobbing from the effort it took to hold him. Her body was fluttering, her arousal so hot she thought if he put his hand back between her legs she could have come with a feather soft touch. Lucien was practically trembling beneath her, his thighs all but shaking as he tried to wrap up the chattering men going on about personal things neither of them cared about.

And then it was all over and Lucien was shoving his things off his desk just like she imagined.

“Not a fucking word comes out of those lips,” he growled, hauling her off him with a ragged, soft grunt. “Do you hear me? Not one sound.”

“Yes, daddy,” Elain agreed, legs hooked over his broad shoulders.

“My good girl,” Lucien praised, sliding his fingers beneath the band of her underwear. She lifted her hips so he could shimmy them off her, watching as he stuffed them in his pocket. “I’m going to wrap these around my cock tonight and come all over them.”

She pressed her fingertips to her lips to keep him from hearing the appreciative moan threatening to rip from her throat. It was just a fantasy, his colleagues overhearing. One that was dangerously close to becoming reality if she wasn’t careful.

“You have the prettiest pussy, baby,” he whispered, his breath curling against her desperate, aching skin. “I could drown in it.”

It was a different sort of hell, laying against the cool wood, her body half draped over him, while Lucien studied her like she was a painting. She wanted to scream. Who cared if her body was pretty if it wasn’t covered in come?

If he heard the slant of her thoughts, he didn’t say. All she knew was one moment he was gazing down at her, feral with need and next he had her clit between his lips and was sucking. She bucked upwards, release building just as quickly as she knew it would. Lucien pressed a hand over her stomach, shoving her back to the desk and holding her still. There was no polite, slow build—though Lucien had never been polite with his mouth to begin with. He merely feasted, betraying his own fantasies while they’d sat in that meeting.

If anyone heard a sound coming from his office, it was their bosses sloppy eating. Lucien couldn’t help himself it seemed though he demanded it of her. She had a hand pressed over her mouth as her orgasm ripped through her, unable to grind into his face, unable to make noise, unable to do anything but pant wildly while he continued to lick, unconcerned if she was finished or not.

It was clear Lucien wasn’t done, and if he wasn’t done, she wasn’t either. “Please,” she begged, her pleasure becoming sharper, more sensitive. “Daddy—”

“You’ll take what daddy gives you,” Lucien told her, his voice more growl than anything. “Lay back, baby.”

She did, panting against the palm of her hand still pressed to her lips. Lucien was rabid, his tongue sliding over her, licking the climax dripping over her thighs until he’d cleaned her out. Elain, so used to having to beg and cajole men to go down on her, didn’t know what to make of Lucien. He was clearly a man who liked eating pussy.

Lucien concentrated all his effort back on her clit, sliding over and over the way he typically did with his cock. With immaculate, precise rhythm, Lucien drew another shaking orgasm out of her body within minutes of the first.

“Please,” Elain begged, shaking her head back and forth. She was certain she couldn’t take another.

“Came too fast,” was his rasping reply. Elain had to swallow her choking scream when Lucien demanded yet a third with his demanding, hungry lips. Only then, her body trembling, tears sliding down her cheeks, did Lucien relent. He reached for her, fisting her hair in her hand to pull her up for a messy, rough kiss.

“Tell daddy thank you,” Lucien whispered before nipping the skin beneath her jaw. Elain immediately sank to her knees, realizing only in retrospect he meant for her to say the words rather than to sink between his still seated thighs.

“Thank you, daddy,” she whispered against the sticky skin of his cock. Lucien moaned softly, gathering up her hair in his hands.

“Take all of it, baby girl,” he all but pleaded. “I want to feel your nose against my stomach.”

Eyeing the largeness of him, Elain wasn't sure that was possible though she wanted to try. Licking the length of him just for a taste, she shuddered at the muskiness of his skin mingled against her own arousal hit the back of her throat. Lucien didn’t say a word, eyes dark as he watched.

She swallowed him down, letting him use the hand on the back of her neck to push as far as she was willing to go. She gagged softly, mindful that anyone outside the door would hear if she was any louder.

“That’s it,” he whispered. “Such a good girl, sucking daddy's cock.”

He was conditioning her to find pleasure in his words, to want to please him. She knew it and still on her next pass down, Elain widened her jaw and tried to take a little more, and again, and again, until she’d done exactly as he asked. Elain hated it and Lucien very obviously loved it. He held her there until she slapped at his thigh, her throat aching, her lungs burning. When she came back up she gasped for air.

“Vodka,” she managed, gripping the base of his cock with her hand. Immediately it was over. Lucien pulled to her feet, ignoring the throbbing erection she still held in one hand, to bury his face between her tits.

“Sorry,” he panted. “Fuck, Elain, that was so good, I–”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” she chanted. “It was just too much all at once.”

“Do you want to stop?” he asked her, no hint of reproach in his words. She could say yes and she thought he’d shove himself back in his pants and walk her back to the lobby.

“No,” she admitted. “I just… I need to work into being held that long.”

He nodded. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want to finish,” she said, bracing herself against his thighs as she sank back to her knees. “I want to taste you, daddy.”

Lucien moaned softly, head against the back of his chair. “Fuck me, baby girl. Suck daddy’s cock, then.”

She was back to sucking him just like before, his hand on her neck, still gently pushing but stopping when he heard her gag. With room to breathe, Elain could focus on the hollow of her cheeks and the slide of her tongue, working to adjust to this new, persistent intrusion. Lucien’s hips rocked back and forth and she wondered, if she told him she wanted to see him come more than once, if he’d indulge her.

He came gripping the edge of his chair to keep himself still, throat working furiously to keep from making a sound. Come filled her mouth, salty but not unpleasant and once again, Elain swallowed it all. He let her before she was back in his lap, straddling his naked thigh.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asked before kissing her with messy, wild abandon. His tongue slid into her mouth, mingling her release with his. She moaned a sigh.

“I have a wedding,” she said regretfully. Lucien broke the kiss to look at her, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“A wedding?”

“My friend Vassa is getting married,” she explain, wishing she had nothing going on. “But maybe next week you could tie me to your bed?”

Lucien smiled.

“Nothing would give me greater pleasure, baby girl.”

She was starting to think the same.

LUCIEN:

It delighted Lucien to no end when Elain stepped into Jurian’s wedding, arm looped with Arinas. Her eyes swept across the room for a place to sit, landing squarely on him. He wasn’t even trying to contain his amusement as he raised his hand, two fingers beckoning her to join him. Beside him, his brother was staring at his phone, clearly irritated with whatever he saw. He didn’t even notice the object of his fascination approach, not until Arina said, “Is this a set up?” Elain merely smiled, sitting beside him in one of the folding chairs on the lawn. “You should have told me you’d be here,” she said reproachfully, moving her knees until they touched his thighs so Arina could shimmy past and take the chair beside his brother. Lucien had worked this so well, leaving Elain on the aisle.

“And miss seeing your face look like this?” he teased, mimicking her wide-eyed oh. “I think not.”

“How do you know Vassa?”

“I know Jurian,” he said, nodding to the dark haired man standing stoically beside a wooden podium. Why Jurian and Vassa wanted an outdoor barn wedding would be forever beyond Lucien. The weather was pleasant enough and yet even beneath a high, autumn sun, he felt like he was baking in his suit.

At least he knew better than to wear suspenders on his wedding day, he consoled himself. Not that he planned to get married, but still. Lucien thought Jurian looked absurd and meant to tell him just as soon as he could.

Elain was utterly stunning in a pretty pink dress, her hair half swept from her face. “Big plans tonight?” he teased, resting his arm over the back of her chair. Elain glanced at him.

“Are you ever not…you know?”

He chuckled. “Occasionally. Certainly not around you.”

She huffed out a soft sigh, eyes sliding over his body to her friend. Arina and Eris were pointedly not talking, the tension both painful and palpable. He didn’t envy his brother, so clearly interested in the blonde who wanted nothing to do with him. To be fair, she had just ended things with her ex…and yet Lucien thought Eris was an obvious step up.

Lucien leaned to Elain again, about to murmur a filthy promise in her ear but the music started and Elain poked him in the ribs to silence him. Lucien could take a hint and, though her bratty behavior always brought his cock alive, he smothered his desire so she could enjoy her friend’s wedding. She hadn’t known he was coming and it was bastardly behavior to make her focus on pleasing him when she so clearly did not care about him at all.

That was clear enough when the wedding ended and both Elain and Arina all but shot from their chairs, pushing through the crowd to go see her. Eris watched as well, leaning towards his brother.

“They moved in last night,” he murmured. “My card is on the account, though they don’t know it. I told them everything was included…don’t fuck that up for me.”

Lucien merely nodded. He didn’t want them worrying about food or other incidentals when an insane man was so comfortable strangling them.

“I bought Elain a car. She’s been letting Arina drive it to work,” Lucien added, nodding as Jurian passed. They could talk later.

“I’m having him followed.”

Lucien turned to his brother with interest.

“And?”

“Nothing so far. He doesn’t go anywhere. Just sits in his fucking apartment all goddamn day. Huge waste of money.”

“Maybe you scared him off.”

Eris didn’t answer, though his expression conveyed he doubted that very much. Lucien did, too. If Jack was angry enough to strangle Elain, it was only a matter of time before he tried something with Arina. Eris wouldn’t take his eyes off Jack until he had Arina in his own home, likely in his own bed. What did that feel like, Lucien wondered? To be pursued so relentlessly, to be wanted that ferociously. He thought he might pull away too, might balk and reject at every turn.

His brother likely would have had better luck if he backed down. Lucien didn’t dare give Eris romantic advice, not after his own had crashed and burned so spectacularly. Eris would just throw Jess in Lucien’s face as a reminder that Lucien had no pedestal on which to stand. Though they were over, Jess was still the ghost that haunted Lucien’s dreams. She’d taken so much and in the end, given nothing back. Not even her heart, which was all Lucien had been asking for. Any other rational person would have recognized Jess was not the universal experience and yet Lucien had loved her so deeply, so unconditionally that the thought of trying again made him want to vomit on the floor.

He’d made himself vulnerable to her in every way possible and in return, she’d taken whatever she could get before moving on to someone more powerful, wealthier, and with better connections.

No hard feelings, she’d said with those pitying eyes. As if it hadn’t been two years. As if Lucien hadn’t planned a whole life centered around her as his sun. He hated they still moved in the same circles, that she still wore the things he’d given her to taunt him, eyes always teasing as she fingered a silver necklace or a pair of lovely earrings. He hated it, wished she’d stop her stupid fucking games. Stop baiting him into making a fool of himself.

Eyes sliding back to smiling, laughing Elain, Lucien thought that when he ended things—and he fully intended to be the one who called things off—Elain would accept it. No taunting eyes, no showing up at galas and parties with his friends draped in the clothes he’d bought her and the jewels he’d put her in. That was, of course, due to her lack of social standing. Elain would never be invited, which was part of what drew him to her.

But the other was merely Elain herself. She wasn’t vindictive. Finger prints bruising her throat, and all she’d thought about was her friend. When presented with the opportunity to spend real money, she’d asked him for a used car and every time he sent her something, Elain told him thank you. Not in a seductive buy me more, daddy, sort of way, but a wide-eyed, genuinely surprised, this is too much but I’m too polite to express anything more than gratitude. He’d sent her a new computer when he’d spotted her own, likely purchased her first semester on campus. The e and t keys were coming off and her stickers had faded. She needed a new one. Any other woman would have just told him so but Elain hadn’t thought to. She never would, though it would make Lucien absurdly hard if she did send him a list of things she wanted.

Things he could give her in exchange for pushing her head on his cock like he’d done in his office.

As if she could hear the shift in his thoughts, Elain turned to look at him, still smiling. It was a punch to the chest, robbing him of both breath and reason. She was so utterly stunning, standing there in a patch of pooling sunlight. She looked like a princess, effortlessly flawless and so gorgeous that the bride, beautiful as she was, was diminished by Elain’s mere presence.

It prompted him to his feet, to walk towards her if only to bask in the glow. The bride and groom had pictures to take but the rest of them could migrate across the hillside towards the barn decorated in fairy lights for cocktails while they waited on the reception. And Lucien very much needed a drink.

Sliding his hand over the exposed skin of her back, Lucien murmured, “Walk with me to the bar?”

“Today is not about you,” Elain chided gently, unaware that her words speared in his gut. “I’m here for classic, clean wedding fun.”

“You don’t think I know how to do the cha cha slide?” Lucien asked, swallowing those feelings while projecting nothing but unbothered confidence. “I can have a PG experience, Elain.”

“With no strings attached?” she asked, arching a perfectly shaped brow. “If I, for example, askyou to dance with me, you're not going to demand repayment at a later date?”

It was tempting and yet Lucien found himself placing his hand theatrically over his chest. “Tonight I am merely Lucien Vanserra, simple man who likes simple things.”

“Are you calling me simple, Lucien?”

He huffed, walking her from the crowd of well-wishers, her hand tucked in the crook of his elbow. “I wouldn’t dare. That wasn’t what I meant.”

She smiled. “I know. I was giving you shit.”

“Brat.”

“None of that,” she chided again. “If you are a simple man then I want to be a perfectly reasonable woman. The kind that can tease you a little without being called names. And besides, I think you like a little push back.”

He almost laughed. What gave her that impression? He’d done nothing but demand submission since they met. “I don’t think that’s true.”

“No? The nepotism baby doesn’t like being given a little bit of a hard time?”

He did laugh, then. “Okay, fine. Maybe if it’s you. But only you,” he added, looking down at her. Elain’s cheeks were flushed with pleasure, head tilted to look at her heeled feet as she walked. It struck him as true, though. Lucien had never really enjoyed being the butt of someone's joke, had never liked too much push back. It reminded him of his father and later on, of Jess. Elain never made it seem as if she were looking down on him and Lucien knew if he gave her as good as he got, she’d laugh it off.

She’d made them equals that very first day in his office and he was only now realizing it. That was disconcerting. Stepping up the stairs to the deck, Lucien kept his hand on her back, swallowing thickly. Of course he didn’t think he was better than Elain, had never thought that. But he’d also given no thought to this relationship at all, outside of what his dick wanted.

In that moment, all Lucien wanted was to hear Elain tease him again.

Laugh.

And maybe dance, too.

ELAIN:

As it turned out, Lucien was incredibly proficient at the cha cha slide. The YMCA, too, though that was certainly easier. As the night wore on, after drinks and toasts and first dances, Lucien shed his jacket and his tie for dancing and general joviality. He’d rolled his sleeves to his elbows and unbuttoned his white collared shirt to his chest, offering her an unparalleled view of his neck and the very beginnings of his chest.

It was practical to do so, she reminded herself. There was absolutely no air conditioning in the barn and everyone was drenched in a fine layer of sweat. As it stood, Lucien was holding one of Elain’s hands, his other on the small of her back as they panted their way through a slow song. Vassa and Jurian were making out not ten feet away from them and Elain was more than a little jealous. She’d already told Lucien he was going home alone that night and he’d been utterly good natured in his agreement.

It was dangerous to rest her head against his shoulder. She swore she only did it because she was tired and a little drunk. Lucien merely pulled her closer. “You sure you want to go home alone?” he murmured, pressing a polite kiss to her scalp.

“Maybe you could drive me home?” she asked him. She didn’t add that she was hoping to do a little making out in the car. She didn’t know if that was even allowed with all his rigid rules.

“I could do that,” Lucien agreed, his voice laced with some unknown emotion. She didn’t dare look up, keeping her cheek pressed firmly against his damp shirt. “I’ll walk you to your door and everything.”

“Who knew Mr. Vanserra was such a gentleman?”

“I have my moments,” he murmured, fingers rubbing over her bare back. She didn’t think she liked these moments, not when it was so obviously muddying the water between them. How was she supposed to remain objective and clear when he was touching her like he cared about her? Like he wanted her for more than just her body? Lucien, who’d been laughing at her jokes all night and had danced with no one else when she knew he could have, was complicating Elain’s uneasy emotions.

Just the night before she’d been wallowing over Graysen, staring at his last text and willing herself to just respond. She hadn’t thought of him all day, hadn’t run to her phone every five seconds to check for a new message, to scroll through their old photos wistfully. Everything had been about having fun with the man in front of her.

The music shifted back into a bouncy, utterly danceable beat. Elain and Lucien pulled apart without regret, jumping and laughing just like before. Always touching, though. She hadn’t noticed it at first but now it was impossible not to. His hand would brush her arm or she’d place her palm against his chest. Always reaching for the other, keeping them close.

Elain only stopped when Arina came over, all but dragging her off the dancefloor. “I’m gonna take off. I have work late tomorrow and I need some sleep. You coming with?”

“Lucien’ll drive me home,” Elain replied breathlessly, reaching for a bottle of water from a nearby cooler. They were standing between the wide, curving entrance of the barn and the deck that led towards the grassy plain and the waiting parking lot.

“You sure?” Arina asked, biting her bottom lip. Elain noted how her friend glanced over her shoulder for a moment, looking for a man who was currently talking to some other brunette.

“Positive. I won’t be too much longer, but you don’t have to wait up.”

Arina nodded, biting her bottom lip. “I like Lucien.”

And that was it. There was nothing else to say, nothing that wouldn’t get them both in trouble. As it stood, Elain almost told Arina she liked Eris, too. It was just…something happening with these brothers they didn’t want to acknowledge, couldn’t admit to each other, let alone themselves. So they danced around it, taunting and teasing the other without ever naming whatever it was.

Elain finished her water, turning back to the dance floor where Lucien was engaged in a game of limbo, back arched as he made his way beneath an ever sinking pole. She smiled, well aware what she was feeling was affection.

It was far longer than she promised before her and Lucien stumbled out, closing the party down with the last stragglers. Lucien fished out his keys with an easy smile, having stopped drinking hours before. Her car was gone and Elain hoped Arina had made it home alright. She slid into the comfortable interior of his car, almost giddy when his large palm gripped her thigh. It wasn’t sexual–merely comfortable, she thought. Lucien drove with one hand, radio playing softly in the background.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had so much fun at a wedding, of all places,” Lucien murmured as they made their way back to the city.

“No?” she questioned, turning her head to look at him. His auburn hair was unbound around his flushed, still sweaty face and despite a night of near endless dancing, he seemed keyed up.

Lucien squeezed her leg.

“It’s your witchy little spell,” he teased, unaware of how those words caused butterflies to bounce around her stomach.

“Hardly. You’re just not used to genuinely good company.”

“I know that’s true,” he agreed, squeezing again.

Elain hesitated, picking her words carefully.

“You know…when this is all over, I hope you still consider me a friend.”

His thumb rubbed a circle over the fabric of her dress. “I’m not in the habit of staying friends with the women I fuck.”

All those butterflies died in the wake of his easy words, turning to stone in her belly. Elain swallowed hard as Lucien drove, unaware he’d unintentionally hurt her feelings.

“Do you?” he asked, perhaps noticing she had gone immediately silent.

“This is different,” Elain tried to explain, hating how her voice sounded. He caught it, glancing over in the dark.

“How so?”

“We’re not…” in love. There was no danger of it, given the clear lines and boundaries they’d both drawn. “Dating.”

“Ah,” he said, as if it explained nothing.

“Friends with benefits implies friends,” she added hastily. “And I don’t just…stop seeing my friends when they’re no longer…”

“Buying you things?” he supplied, she thought to be helpful.

“Having sex with me,” Elain disagreed. She’d forgotten for a moment that Lucien liked to do that. Maybe that was why he didn’t want to be friends. Didn’t want to muddy those waters, either.

Cut all ties, never see a shred of proof of what he’d gotten up to in the name of getting his penis wet.

He looked again. “Let’s not worry about that for now.”

But she was. She didn’t know why, but the ticking clock in Elain’s head made her very worried. She liked him, and knowing that she was more than a couple of wet holes to him would have eased some of the anxiety she felt. Lucien went back to rubbing his thumb over her dress, settling back into silence. They were nearly to the Starlight when he murmured, “If you want to be friends when this is all over, I think I could do that.”

She swallowed the ballooning relief in her chest. “Good. I promise not to make it awkward.”

He smiled softly. “I believe you wouldn’t.”

Elain reclined her head against the seat as the overhead lights of the Starlight flooded through the dash. She’d never get over this building, builtd in the twenties from old ivory marble. Carved gargoyles stood watch as they got out, eyes trailing them as Lucien guided her towards the door.

“Elain?”

God, she knew that voice. Like something from every nightmare she’d ever had, Elain turned slowly to face Graysen. He was dressed nice enough in a blue and lilac plaid button up and navy pants. He had a suit jacket tossed over his shoulder and his sandy brown hair was mussed. She didn’t dare think as to why.

“Hey, Gray,” she murmured, noting how Lucien stiffened just beside her. She could practically feel his radiating interest as Graysen wove through the parked cars to come talk to them. She took a steadying breath, heart hammering painfully in her chest.

Brown eyes snagged on Lucien.

“What’s up, Vanserra?”

“The usual,” came Lucien’s cool reply. Graysen only nodded, undisturbed by Lucien’s standoffishness.

“How have you been?” Graysen asked her, eyeing the off shoulder, backless pink dress she was wearing. She knew he recognized it from a formal event, was remembering how he’d peeled it off her body before quietly having sex with her. How she’d once cherished that memory. Now it made her feel sick.

“Good,” she replied. “Vassa got married tonight.” She felt like she needed to explain what she was doing out with Lucien Vanserra at two in the morning. Graysen didn’t look at the man beside her at all, inching a step closer.

“I forgot about that. You look…” his words failed for a moment. “I always did like that dress. You look great, Lainey.”

Lucien was so still he might have been a statue. Elain almost vomited at the mention of that old nickname, of how casually Graysen told Lucien he’d seen everything she was wearing before, implying he’d taken it all off, too.

“You should respond to my text,” he added reproachfully. “Lets catch up, yeah? I miss you.”

“I—”

Lucien’s fingers curled around her waist.

“I’d like that,” she finished lamely. Graysen smiled, every inch of him triumphant. Night ruined.

“Perfect. Talk to you soon.”

She nodded, letting him walk away with a bouncy step. Lucien all but pushed her forward, still gripping her waist. He said nothing as they stepped through the revolving glass doors, onto the checked marble floors and the gorgeous well-lit lobby. Elain liked the character—little carved leaves trailed up ivory columns and portraits of women with curled bobs and flapper dresses adorned the walls.

She had a private elevator accessed only with a keycard. Lucien waited for her to drag it out of her clutch and swipe, his face visible in the mirrored elevator doors. His cheeks were flushed, no longer from his enjoyment but from what she thought was anger. It was the way he held his lips, and the tightness of his eyes that made her think so.

They stepped inside, avoiding the other’s reflection in the dimly lit space. Lucien still had his hand on her body and Elain considered that a win. “Why are you avoiding Nolan?” he finally asked when the halfway floor chimed around them.

“He hurt my feelings,” she told Lucien honestly. They were friends, after all.

“Oh?”

“You’ve never had your heart broken?” she dared to ask. Maybe he hadn’t. Elain couldn’t imagine anyone leaving him. “He just moved on so quickly, it was like—”

“Like none of it ever happened,” Lucien finished for her right as they reached her floor.

“Yeah,” she breathed. She expected him to stay in the elevator, to bid her goodnight without even a kiss. That wasn’t how she’d wanted this night to go. Lucien didn’t hesitate to follow just behind, looking around as if he’d never seen the penthouse suite before. Elain and Arina had gagged when they came in the night before. It was massive, with a wall of windows overlooking the city, and stairs that led to the pool on the roof. Three bedrooms, more than they required, a living room and a full kitchen, not to mention three and a half bathrooms made it the nicest place Elain had ever stayed in her life.

She kicked her shoes off, letting her aching bare feet cool against the faux wood floors.

“Was it recent?” he questioned. She shrugged.

“We dated for two years. It just takes a minute to get over.”

He nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Sure. You should have told him we were on a date. Made him a little jealous.”

Padding for the kitchen, Elain looked over at Lucien with surprise. “I’m sure he was thinking it.”

Lucien shrugged casually, unbuttoning his shirt like he was home. Maybe he was. How often had he stayed here, she wondered? Elain filled a cup with water before thinking better of it and offering him one, too. Lucien accepted, now shirtless and glorious.

“I worry you’re not getting much out of this.”

Elain gaped, her cup nearly clattering to the floor. “You bought me a car.”

“It hardly counts.”

Hardly counts.

“And what do you get out of this?” she demanded. Lucien’s eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Your submission and sex exactly the way I like it. It’s just…” he hesitated for a moment. “You don’t ask for as much as the other women.”

Other women. She ignored the way that made her gut clench. She was prepared to offer him a rebuttal when loud moaning floated through the space. It was masculine and familiar. Lucien’s head snapped towards a closed door, mouthing the question, Eris?

Arina’s voice answered for them. “Eris, don’t stop—”

“Want to watch a movie?” Elain asked him, eyebrows raised. This was the part where he left.

“Absolutely.”

Lucien:

Lucien was a fucking moron to spend the night again. Even dumber to be stripped to his underwear, laying beneath a pretty pink floral bed cover Elain had clearly brought with her. She’d put on some movie he was barely watching, too busy thinking about the peek of white thong he’d gotten when she came into bed. He’d bought it, along with the sheer nighty draped over her perky tits. All he wanted to do was eat between her legs.

He couldn’t figure out how to make it happen. He had an arm around her body, her head tucked against his bare chest. Had all things been normal he might have demanded she crawl on his face and hold herself still. He was utterly jealous of his brother in the next room, though the sounds had died to nothing when Lucien and Elain began banging around loudly, trying to communicate they were very much around without making it weird.

Lucien knew why he wanted to get between her legs and the knowledge that he was jealous of Graysen Nolan was almost too much.

Go home you dumb motherfucker.

Lucien trailed his hand down her arm, instead. Even if this was nothing more than fun, he didn’t want her leaving him from fucking Nolan. Elain didn’t react, eyes still fixated on the television. He decided he’d try a little more and if she stayed still, he’d deal with his too-hard cock some other way.

His fingers reached her stomach, thumb brushing just beneath her breasts. Elain exhaled softly, pressing a kiss to his body. Encouraged, Lucien continued lower until he reached the lacy thong that was haunting him and began rubbing through the fabric.

“You’re bad at watching a movie,” she whispered.

“I’d be better if you weren’t so fucking hot,” he replied easily. “I want to go down on you.”

She looked up at him, surprised. “You do?”

All the fucking time.

“Do you care?”

She inhaled. “Of course not, Lucien. I just…what should I be doing?”

He almost told her to lay back. “Will you sit on my face?”

Her eyes went wide. “Sure.”

Elain shimmied out of her underwear faster than he could ask her to keep them on. He liked seeing her in the things he bought her. Lucien intended to gift her a new backless dress so Graysen could never ogle her in that pink one again. For now, though, thong tossed somewhere to the floor, Elain was straddled over his face, still pointed towards the television.

“Am I allowed to touch you?” she asked hesitantly.

“Baby,” he whispered, pulling her closer to his mouth. “Tonight is just about feeling good. You can call me daddy again in the morning.”

And for the first time in his life, Lucien meant it. He wanted her whimpering at his feet more than he wanted most things but tonight, he also wanted to remind her that when it came down to it, Graysen wasn’t worth the effort it took to miss him.

“Touch my cock if you want to. Do whatever you want to me.”

Elain exhaled sharply when he took that first taste. He forgot she was leaning down his body, that her hands were running up and down his stomach. Lucien was lost in Elain’s wet pussy and the sweet, musky taste of her. He’d never tire of this. Even when things were over, he’d always be thinking about her perfect, pink cunt. She began rolling her hips, riding him and Lucien was utterly gone.

Right up until he felt her swallow his cock. Lucien jerked, twisting to look at the woman laying atop him, sucking him down, down, down. He was still daydreaming about holding her flush against his body in his office. No one had ever managed such a thing and yet for ten glorious seconds, Elain had put his entire cock into her throat before she ended the game. She was working her way down with each new pass, pushing her pussy back against him, having registered the loss.

“Sorry, baby, but fuck who taught you to suck cock?”

She hummed a soft laugh but Lucien was serious. He wanted to personally thank that man. He indulged himself for only a moment, watching her hollowed cheeks and her wet, sloppy tongue swirling over his swollen head.

And then Lucien was back, determined he would not be outdone by Elain and her sucking lips. Lucien wanted Elain to think he treated eating pussy like it was his job, like all he thought about was laving her clit with his tongue. She was appropriately loud given she was also gagging on his cock.

Elain made another pass, her nose brushing the skin of his stomach and Lucien groaned loudly—loud enough her roommate knew what they were up to.

“Again, baby, do it again,” he begged before drawing her clit between his lips to suck the same as she was. Elain’s vibrating moan had Lucien hanging on a razor’s edge.

She did exactly as he asked, holding him in her throat, nose smushed to his abdomen. Lucien jerked, unable to contain his release. He came roughly, still eating at her pussy, if only to feel her come against him too.

She did mere moments later, grinding so hard against him Lucien could barely breathe. His whole face was wet in her release—just the way he liked it.

Coming down was another thing entirely. Some small part of him, the part that valued holding boundaries, knew he should kiss her goodnight and leave. Elain panted, flopping to the bed beside him, one hand tucked between her tits. She was still in the lacy nighty, devoid of panties and while Lucien’s flagging cock had been pulled from the band of his own underwear. He pulled them up, holding her against him.

“You can stay if you want,” she told him, offering him an out. “No hard feelings if you need to go.”

Lucien slid down the bed, stuffing his penis back into his pants.

“I can stay.”

A smile slid over her features. “Good,” she murmured, head back against his chest. Lucien kissed the top of her scalp, well aware he was fucked.

Well and truly fucked.

#elucien #elucien fanfiction #elucien fanfic #elain x lucien #i know i say this every time #but truly my idiotisty to loveriesty fic yet #youll see #my block from last week seems to be out of the way #just needed to write some filth and clear my head

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