Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 110859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
She stripped out of her clothes and slid on the lingerie. Looking in the mirror she nibbled her lips and evaluated the outfit, if one could even call it that. Her breasts were lifted and little half-moons of brown showed where her nipples peeked past the lace edging. The panties were delicate, pale pink with black lace scalloped edging below her belly. A thin black bow tied over the delta of her pussy and a white pearl nested in the satin knot. Nothing covered her sex, only two thin strings holding the garment together that rode along her lips.
She turned. A tiny little swatch of pink lace made a triangle above the crease of her ass. The rest disappeared between. Fuck. There was no courage here. There was barely coverage.
Spontaneously, she turned and went to her jewelry box. She found the string of pearls Lucian had given her for Christmas and wrapped them twice around her neck. She snapped the matching bracelet around her wrist and twisted her hair high on her head. In the closet she found a pair of black satin stilettos. She applied some gloss to her lips and walked as proudly as one could manage in such an asinine ensemble, into the common area of the suite. Thinking back to the special she and Lucian had watched on the Kennedy’s, she imagined she looked like JFK’s greatest fantasy, somewhere between Jackie and Marilyn.
Gratitude swamped her when she saw dinner had been delivered. It was bad enough Patrice had to see her like this. Lucian stood and there was a noticeable moment when he stopped breathing.
Huh, maybe there is some courage in lingerie. Magic undies!
He held out her chair and she gracefully sat. She placed her napkin over her lap with all the hauteur she could manage then frowned. “Where’s Patrice?”
Lucian’s eyes darkened as he sipped from a glass. “I sent her home. You look stunning, Evelyn.”
“But . . . I thought . . .”
He shook his head. “I know what you thought. I’m disappointed in the way you welcomed me home. You’ll make up for that after dinner. Eat.” Her eyes never left him the entire time they ate.
She’d love to say the tilapia was delicious, but for all she knew it might’ve been pasta. He kept the wine and conversation flowing and eventually she forgot she was in her underwear.
When he wiped his mouth and tossed the linen napkin on the plate, she swallowed. Maybe she’d overreacted. Her breath filled her lungs as she considered what he might have in mind for her penance. Evelyn lowered her gaze as she realized her reaction to Patrice in their home might have been less about being sexually pushed and more about not wanting to share Lucian. Her brow creased as she examined this territorial side she hadn’t realized she possessed.
“Can I interest you in dessert?”
She looked up at him, quite concerned about what he’d planned next. “No, thank you.”
He smiled under hooded eyes. “Why don’t we have a seat on the couch?”
She stood and walked to the settee. The cool air of the condo played over her exposed curves. Lucian sat, pose relaxed as his elbow dangled over the armrest. He patted the space next to his thigh and Evelyn settled beside him. She was excruciatingly aware of her lack of clothing and was sure she wore a deep blush down to her barely there bra.
Evelyn stiffened as Lucian’s lips pressed to her shoulder. “Do you remember our discussion when we last left Folsom?” he whispered, breath hot and teasing the escaped wisps of hair along her neck.
She’d thought of little else over the past hour. Her lashes lowered. “Yes.”
His long fingers traced over her hip and up her belly. Apprehension, paired with the sensual way he was fondling her, had her trembling. He cupped her breast and pulled away the lace, exposing her even more.
She feared he was still angry with her, but his touch was gentle. He slipped a hand beneath Evelyn’s knees and lifted her legs onto the sofa. The pointy toes of her black high heels tilted toward the arm of the settee. He plucked at her nipples, both now exposed. “Part your legs for me, Evelyn.”
She hesitated and Lucian whispered, seeming to sense her nervousness. “You have a safe word if you need it. Trust me to know how much is too much.”
It was silly to be nervous. They were alone and he wouldn’t hurt her. However, she’d obviously upset him, perhaps even embarrassed him earlier, and that scared her. Taking a steadying breath, her knees slowly parted and cool air tickled the bare flesh.
Lucian drew her hands to her side, pressing them into the seat, a quiet command not to move. His fingertips trailed over her stomach and down to her pussy. “Are you wet?”