Until the Sun Falls from the Sky (The Three #1)(91)

“Take off my trousers,” he ordered, his fingers drifting up the soft skin of her na**d back.

She blinked.

Then she asked, “What?”

His fingers found a butterfly clip in her hair. He squeezed the wings gently and pulled it out.

Then he repeated, “Leah, take off my trousers.

She hesitated a moment then, stiltedly, her hands went to his belt.

His fingers found another clip and he carefully pulled it out.

“So, I take it you’ve decided?” she whispered, his belt undone, she moved to the fastening.

“Decided what?” he asked, taking out another butterfly and watching, with no small amount of fascination, as her shining hair slowly tumbled to her shoulders.

“That I’m to be your whore.”

So deep in his study of her hair he was startled by her words and his eyes moved from her hair to hers.

“Why would you say that?”

She slid his zipper down. This, evidently, was her answer.

With one hand, he found more clips and also bobby pins which he pulled out as well. The other hand he wrapped around the back of her neck.

He didn’t take his eyes from hers.

“Lovers disrobe each other, Leah,” he said softly.

He heard her heart bump unevenly, she tore her eyes from his, looking at his shoulder as she slid her hands along his waist and tugged his pants down.

They barely hit the floor before he stepped out of them, had her cradled in his arms and at the side of the bed. He yanked back the covers, depositing her in it. He dropped her hair bobs on her bedside table, moved over her and settled at her side.

“Sit up and turn your back to me,” he demanded, she hesitated again before she complied, bringing the covers up to her chest as she did so.

His hands went back to her hair.

“How many pins do you have in here, sweetling?” he muttered as all the butterflies were out but there seemed hundreds of pins still in.

“I have a lot of hair,” she whispered.

He stopped pulling out pins, his hand moving to her neck, across her throat, and down. He curled his fingers around her upper arm and pulled her back to his chest, his face buried in her thick, soft, now wildly wavy hair.

“Mm,” he murmured into the locks, “that you do.”

Her hands came up, fingers sliding into her hair. “I’ll finish it.”

He pulled back, letting her go and pushed her hands away.

“I’ll do it.”

She blindly batted at his hands. “It won’t take me a second.”

“I said I’ll do it.”

“Really –”

He leaned in deep, taking her with him and dumping the pins and clips on the nightstand. Then he caught her wrists in a tight hold and pulled them around, crossing them at her front.

Against her ear he repeated firmly, “I’ll do it.”

She stiffened a second before her body went slack.

“Okay,” she whispered.

She pulled the covers up to hide herself and then sat still as he finished with the pins.

After some time his fingers slid through her hair, searching for any pins he’d left behind. Finding none, he deposited the last of them with the others. His hands going back to her hair, he gathered it all in his fists. Transferring it to one, he pulled it aside and kissed her bare shoulder.

She trembled against his lips. He smiled against her skin.

“Can I go to sleep now?” she asked.

“No,” he answered.

Her body jerked and she twisted her head to look at him.

“But I’m tired,” she lied.

“Yes, I know.” He tried not to grin.

“You said we could go to bed.” Her tone held a mild accusation.

“We’re in bed,” he pointed out.

“I thought you meant to sleep,” she told him.

“I didn’t.”

“But –” she started but didn’t finish. He moved her to face him, tugging the covers out of her hands at the same time lifting up to lean his back against the headboard and pressing her torso to his side.

“We’re going to talk,” he announced.

She tilted her head back to look at him. “I’m really tired, Lucien. Really tired.” She stressed the words vocally and by pressing her soft body deeper into his. “I don’t think I have it in me to talk.”

His hand came up to cup her jaw. “That’s fine, sweetheart, you aren’t going to be talking.”

Her body grew tense.

“It’s been some time since you’ve had a lesson,” he told her and saw surprise slide across her features.

He watched her struggle with her reaction. Then he watched her lose.

“Have you come to a decision?” she asked, her voice edging toward a demand.

“About what?”

He heard her teeth grinding and controlled his laughter.

Barely.

“Earlier tonight, you said you were going to choose,” she reminded him. “Have you come to your decision?”

As much as he was enjoying this, Lucien let her off the hook.

“That’s what your lesson is about.”

He watched her face working again, heard her teeth grinding again before he felt her weight settle into his side.