Until the Sun Falls from the Sky (The Three #1)(38)

He caught her close. Her head jerked back, her eyes narrowed and her mouth opened to protest.

He brought his down on hers, hard and demanding her response.

She withheld and began her vain struggles, as usual stubborn to an extreme.

So stubborn, this carried on for long enough that Lucien was forced to try a different tactic. Rolling her to her back and pinning her, his hands moved on her, down her sides, across her belly, up her midriff, all the while his tongue engaged in its sensual duel with hers.

Then his hand moved over her breast, cupping it gently before he snagged her nipple with his thumb.

Her body stopped bucking against his in protest and melted underneath him.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he whispered against her mouth at her capitulation and he took advantage, his finger met his thumb and he rolled her nipple between them.

A delicious noise slid from the back of her throat into his mouth. Her legs opened, one calf wrapping around his hip and he caught the scent of her excitement.

He smiled his triumph against her mouth and slanted his head for another kiss. She met his intent, her own head tipping to the side, her lips pressing against his, no longer resistant but hungry.

He fed her with his hands and his mouth and he kept doing it as she continued to demand it, insatiable, magnificent.

After a time, his hand was in her panties, finger pressed deep and swirling, her mouth against his, breaths sharp and sweet against his lips. She was so deep in her need she was unable to concentrate on kissing him or bear the further sensation of his tongue in her mouth. Her hand was clenched in his hair, her other arm wrapped tight around his back.

“Lucien!” she gasped urgently and he saw it on her face, he smelled it, he knew she was right there.

He withdrew his hand.

“No!” she cried, her hand going to his, fingers wrapping around his wrist.

Her cry sliced through him like a blade. He had been incorrect in what he’d told her the morning before. Even as tortured as her cry was, he suspected this was far more difficult on him than it was on her.

However, he’d chosen his path and he had to continue his efforts at her taming. She had no way of knowing but he knew the reward at the end would be worth the battle.

“Will you mind me?” he queried, his voice was harsh, not with anger but with regret.

Her hazy eyes struggled to focus on his face. “Lucien.”

“Will you mind me?”

He watched the haze clear, his words penetrating, incredulity flooding her face, quickly chased by anger.

“I f**king hate you,” she hissed but even as she did, her h*ps sought his, her body agitated, struggling with her desire.

Lucien sighed impatiently. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“You’re damn right it’s a no!” she snapped and her body wrenched unsuccessfully against his hold.

After this failure, she let out an enraged, strangled scream.

“Leah, you can end this now,” he told her.

“Go to hell!” she flashed.

“Do you want my mouth on you?” he asked.

“Go to hell!” she repeated.

“Do you want me inside you?”

She froze and shrieked, “Go to hell!”

He threw a thigh over her legs and captured her moving body against his. With a hand in her hair, he tucked her face in his neck.

“You’re very stubborn, pet,” he murmured into the hair at the top of her head.

Her body gave a mighty flex then went limp.

She grew silent. He held her closer.

After long moments, he said softly, “I’ll be leaving soon.”

She made no reply.

“While I’m gone, if you touch yourself, Leah, I’ll know and I’ll have to deal with that too.”

He could hear the pace of her heart increase but her body tensed only briefly before she subdued her reaction.

“Do you understand me?” he pushed.

She remained silent.

“Leah, I asked, do you understand me?”

“Yes,” she gritted between her teeth.

“I’ll be home at ten. We’re going out tonight. I want you ready.”

She didn’t speak.

“Leah, when I talk to you, you acknowledge what I say.”

“I’ll be ready,” she bit out.

“I want you wearing the black dress.”

She made an angry noise but whispered, “I’ll be wearing the black dress.”

His hand moved from her head to her jaw and with his thumb under her chin, he tilted her face up to receive his soft kiss.

Then he left her in bed and went to shower.

After he turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, while he was reaching for a towel, in the sudden silence, he heard it.

His head shot up and cocked to the side.

Quietly, likely muffled in her pillow, he heard her sobs.

Good Christ. He’d broken her.

He’d f**king broken her.

He’d taken a huge step closer to her taming.

He’d expected to feel elation at this moment.

Instead, his eyes met his reflection in the mirror and he growled a low, slow, agonized, “Fuck.”

* * * * *

That night when he arrived home promptly at ten, he opened the door from the garage to the kitchen and found her there, waiting for him in the kitchen.