When I'm with You (Because You Are Mine #2)(17)

“Damn it,” she seethed.

“You’re doing it again,” he said, a thread of amusement in his hard voice.

“What?”

“Trying to grab for the reins.”

“Ouch . . . ooh . . . merde,” she mumbled incoherently when he spanked her.

“Every time you attempt to seduce me, I’ll spank you an extra time. Submit, ma chère. Let go. I’m taking control for the time being.”

A tear leaked down her cheek, but she remained determinedly still. For a few seconds, she and Lucien were as one. She feared the flex of Lucien’s muscle, the swing of his arm, but she also anticipated it, sensed it perfectly . . . wanted and needed it. There, for a few seconds, she understood precisely what Lucien had meant.

Discipline. Need.

“Two more,” she heard him growl.

She twisted her chin and saw his arm stretched back. He looked awesome in that moment, his long legs spread slightly, nostrils flared, eyes blazing, muscles coiled and tense. He paused with his hand back and met her stare. It happened so quickly that later she wondered if she’d imagined it. He cupped her hip with his free hand and pressed her burning ass to his crotch, grinding her against rock-hard thighs and cock.

Her eyes sprang wide when she fully absorbed his dimensions . . . his heat. Liquid surged at her core, an answer to his primal call. Abruptly, he was gone.

“Damn those eyes,” he muttered thickly. “Look at that desk or I swear you won’t sit comfortably for a week.”

She turned, staring sightlessly at the leather blotter on his desk, panting shallowly as he cracked off the last two strokes.

Through the swelling sounds of the symphony and her own pounding heart, she heard the rough, soughing sound of Lucien’s breath behind her. She didn’t move.

What would he do now? Her * was hot and wet between her thighs. She experienced his arousal behind her like a distant but powerful fire, his heat seeming to emanate against her naked ass, teasing her sex. Surely he wouldn’t walk away? Perhaps he’d take her from behind? The thought panicked and excited her. She hadn’t prepared for this. She started to raise herself in order to touch him . . . in order to pleasure him . . . to satisfy him . . .

. . . in order to take control of this volatile situation.

That she could handle. He’d said they wouldn’t have sex, but that was before they’d generated all this heat. She stood and turned, gratified to see the fixed, rigid expression on his face as he stared at her ass. He grabbed her wrist lightning quick when she reached for his pants. Suddenly, she was spinning and her back was pressed tightly to his front, her bottom pressed against his hard thighs, her lower back against the flagrant fullness of his sex. She gasped when he gathered her other wrist and restrained both of her arms in his hand. He leaned down, cupping her body to his long, hard length.

“It aroused you. Didn’t it?”

A shudder of excitement went through her at the sound of his delicious voice in her ear.

“I . . . I hated it,” she lied, fighting for the upper hand even though she knew she was losing . . . even though she increasingly didn’t know what losing or winning meant when it came to Lucien. Her gasp turned into a moan of disbelieving arousal when he abruptly plunged a long finger between her labia and rubbed.

“Very warm. Very wet,” he groaned near her ear, increasing her shudders of pleasure. “I’m going to cure you of this tendency for lying. I felt you submit there at the end, even if you are denying it now, and you were very brave in accepting your spanking. Here is your reward.”

Her head fell back against his breastbone. It felt divine, the friction from his rubbing finger optimal. Her clit began to sizzle beneath his touch. Her hips ground against the pressure. He pressed her tighter against him, so that she could feel his cock throbbing against her lower back and hip. He’d been right about how wet she was—she could tell by the easy slide of his finger. She could even hear him moving in the lubricated flesh. How humiliating.

How exciting.

She subtly gyrated against him, growing wild with mounting arousal, her teeth clenched tight. She couldn’t seem to stop it. He pleasured her more knowledgeably than she pleasured herself, something about his restrained strength and obvious skill creating a riot of bliss in her flesh. Her entire body grew rigid, and her nipples tightened almost painfully, making her wish he’d touch them, pinch them to ease the sharp pressure.

“Damn you,” she muttered brokenly.

“Come,” he demanded. The music swelled in her ears, cresting.

She clamped her eyelids shut and shook in delicious release.

“That’s right,” she heard him say, his voice seemingly both far away and so close it was like he was inside her head. “One day you’re going to come like that while I’m buried in you, and it’s going to feel so incredibly good.”

His hand continued to work between her thighs, stimulating her until she sagged against him, panting. Her eyelids opened sluggishly a moment later when she felt his hand slow and stop.

For a moment, she didn’t move or breathe as he cupped her outer sex in a possessive gesture and she felt his cock pulse against her, hard, heavy and more than ready.

He released her. She whimpered at the sudden loss of his heat.

“Get dressed,” he said, his voice sounding rough. She watched as he strode across the office to a closed door. When he jerked it open, she realized it was an entrance to a bathroom.