Claimed by the Sicilian Tycoon (Criminal Seduction #3)(41)

Lyra had him exactly where she wanted him. And every time he stopped to think it through, she quieted his thoughts with more of the same mind blowing pleasure. Only tonight it had backfired. Andros wasn’t sure he’d ever exploded in a woman’s mouth like that, or ever lost control quite so much. He had mouth f*cked her without any finesse at all and she had let him, wanted him to, moaned for more.

He loved it.

Was enthralled by it.

By her. By the whole situation. And that was unacceptable. If he spent any more time with her he might even…no, he wouldn’t even go there. He couldn’t. As Andros reached across to stroke her perfect hair once more one thought and one thought alone was clear. The time had come to put an end to this. Before his jealousy ate away at him, before he was completely tortured by the thought that Lyra was with him only because she needed a protector, and most of all, before he fell any deeper than he already had.





Chapter Twenty-One



The sun was streaming in through the windows when Lyra awoke. She sat up, looked around the room, and felt her heart squeeze. Andros was nowhere to be seen. She narrowed her eyes and listened carefully…he was in the bathroom. He hadn’t left yet. Relief filled her and she pulled herself out of bed, grabbing her robe as she did so, and made her way into the main room.

She sat down at the small dining room table, took a deep breath, and played the previous night back through her mind. She felt jittery and worried, because, although they’d f*cked hard, f*cked with a passion Lyra had barely been able to manage, she didn’t know if things were okay between them. If Andros was over his rage of the night before....

Reaching out, Lyra picked up a mug and set it in front of her. The milk and sugar was already laid out for their morning coffee, coffee Andros would make in the little espresso machine he’d had installed. Lyra felt her heart skip a little beat as she realized how accustomed she was becoming to their morning routine. It made her…happy? Was that even the right word?

“Good morning.”

She turned to see the object of her thoughts, already fully dressed, enter the room. He reached straight for espresso machine, and she lifted a cup for him, adding the sprinkling of sugar she knew he liked, but he shook his head.

“I will take it black today.”

“Then I’ll have this one, fill me up please.”

He did as she asked before looking down at her mouth. A finger reached out to run along her bottom lip. “Is this sore?”

“Pleasurably so,” she said honestly, because she’d loved every second of his dick in her mouth. It was one of her enduring fantasies.

Lyra tilted her head, expecting him to bend down and drop a kiss on her lips, but instead he sighed, and made his way around the table to sit opposite her. It was only when he was seated, his coffee in front of him, that Lyra realized something was wrong.

Very wrong.

She’d been right to worry. Carefully she placed her mug on the table, her hand ever so slightly shaky, and took a deep breath. It was written all over him. The set of his broad shoulders, the severe line of his mouth. This Andros was not the same man who’d sat opposite her just yesterday morning—pre Club Belmont—and smiled up from his newspaper, before dropping to his knees in front of her and licking her until she screamed. And he was far from the man who had filled her mouth with himself just a few hours ago, roaring his pleasure, panting her name.

“Are you still mad about last night?” she blurted, but he shook his head.

“No.”

“You look weird. What’s wrong?”

“Lyra,” he said. “We need to talk.”

She shifted, placing her hands on her lap, clasping one in the other to keep them steady, trying to grab the happiness back she’d felt in the last few weeks. It refused to come, replaced instead with something that felt like panic. It was a bad feeling, and Lyra’s heart pounded.


We need to talk. “Of course.”

“Firstly I wish to apologize for my behavior last night,” Andros began.

“Apology accepted,” she said quickly.

“Secondly,” he added. “I wish to tell you that you have given me everything you promised. By the terms of our agreement you have done nothing wrong.”

Her heart pounded some more. Lyra was seized with a sudden urge to reach across the table and place a finger on his lips. “Okay.”

He looked up, his eyes finding hers, and what Lyra saw there made her stomach clench. She knew what was coming now, it was suddenly, and painfully obvious. And far too soon…

“However,” he continued, not breaking their eye contact. “I have decided it is now time to bring it to an end.”

“I see.” Her words were soft, holding none of the feelings now running through her. She kept her gaze steady, because it was vital that she played the part right to the end. Vital! It was check, her king cornered, but she’d accept it with grace, leave with some dignity intact. Hadn’t she promised herself that?

But you didn’t consider the happiness, part of her mind whispered. Fuck the happiness, the other part screamed, it never lasts anyway, and Lyra swallowed carefully, accepting the truth of that. This had always been the end game.

It was sooner than she expected, but the end game nonetheless.

“It is no fault on your part,” Andros added, seemingly oblivious to her churning thoughts. “Not at all. I simply do not think that our arrangement is right for me any longer.”