“Yes,” he said in a strangled voice, feeling the tickle in his balls that signaled the end of this delicious torture. Then she was sucking him fast and shallow, her fist pumping in a perfect counter-rhythm, the sounds of a full-out pump—wet flesh moving tautly against wet flesh—ringing in his ears.
He thrust deep and held her steady as orgasm ripped through his flesh. Everything went black and dead silent for a moment. Somehow, he found the wherewithal not to roar.
He hoped anyway.
That must have been his low, guttural groan that pierced the bubble of his torrential pleasure.
He withdrew, sliding along her tongue. He continued to come, and come, the strength of his climax stunning him. Distantly, he became aware of the sucking movements and sounds of her mouth on his cock, of her fingertips caressing his ass tenderly while her other hand cupped his balls, milking him for all he was worth.
He sagged, gasping for air, clamping his eyes shut as her warm mouth continued to move, cleaning him, teasing him . . . arousing him all over again.
A light switched on in the hallway, illuminating a tiny crack beneath the closed door. His caressing fingers stilled in Elise’s hair. Perhaps she felt his sudden tension, because the pulsing, sucking movements of her mouth ceased.
“Ian?” he heard Francesca say in the distance. Elise’s lips moved against him, his penis remaining firmly in her taut hold. After a moment, the light switched out.
The reality of what had occurred struck him like a blow: where they were, what had just happened. It wasn’t what he’d planned. Not in the slightest.
He slid his overly sensitive cock out of Elise’s warmth, wincing in regret.
“Come here,” he said quietly, his hands on her shoulders. He helped her to her feet. His fingertips caressed the smooth, dewy skin of her cheeks. He felt her heat and knew she was aroused. Again, regret flicked through him.
“I don’t think they’ve noticed us missing yet,” he said, hastily refastening his pants.
“Lucien—”
“Later,” he said, his voice tense with unspoken words. The ringing silence was a remonstrance. She deserved more than that. He stepped toward her and took her into his arms. She felt small and warm and very feminine pressed against him. He kissed her, once on each warm cheek, then on her nectar-sweet mouth. His musk lingered on her tongue, the unique combination of their flavors compelling . . . drawing him deeper.
“You gave me great pleasure,” he murmured honestly a moment later.
“I’m glad.”
He paused for a moment, his mouth open, undone by her sweet, simple reply. His head lowered to kiss her deeper, and damn the circumstances.
In the distance, he heard a door close and froze. He found her hand and enclosed it in his own before he reached for the door.
“I’ll take you to the bathroom so you can freshen up. Give it several minutes, then go back up to the terrace and rejoin the party until we can make a graceful exit.”
The muted light from the hallway allowed him to see her golden beauty flushed with arousal . . . her puffy, reddened lips. A muttered curse blistered his tongue. Her dark blue eyes looked huge and glazed with desire. She looked stunning, radiating pure sex appeal. There would be those at the party who’d put two and two together and know she’d been sucking cock with that beautiful mouth.
* * *
“I’ll bring some ice to the bathroom,” Lucien muttered quietly, firming his hold on her hand and leading her down the hallway.
“Why?” she asked dazedly. Her brain was foggy. Bringing Lucien pleasure had left her lust-drunk. She wanted to do it again. She wanted to climb all over him. Right now. He opened a door and she distantly realized it led to a powder room.
She stilled when he touched her lips. “Because some bastard has been abusing your gorgeous mouth, that’s why. The ice will bring down the swelling a bit.”
She shivered at his touch and sexy tone. “Ten lashes to the perpetrator.”
“Twenty to the victim,” he countered quickly.
Her brows shot up in curiosity and interest. His gaze grew fierce.
He started to walk away, but she grabbed his hand. She purred with pleasure a moment later when she pulled him down to her, and he covered her mouth with his, his rough moan a blessing.
Yes. She had him now.
“Forget the ice,” she whispered seductively next to his lips a moment later. “Let’s go to your place.”
His gaze ran over her face. She felt his body stir and triumph soared through her. “It is what I plan, Elise. But later. I should try and smooth things over with Ian and Francesca, and we need to say our good-byes.”
“Francesca and Ian are grown-ups. They know these things can happen. We’ll apologize tomorrow.”
“Just give it a few minutes. We’ll go soon.”
She arched her back and pressed her mons against his belly. “No, now.”
His nostrils flared as he stared down at her. She felt his body respond. Her heart dipped when he blinked and looked away. She sensed the spell was broken.
“My rules, Elise. Be patient,” he said gruffly, kissing her cheek with lingering lips and leaving her arms.
“Do not walk away from me again, Lucien,” she warned. God, she didn’t think she could stand making herself vulnerable to him yet again and having him turn his back on her. Didn’t he realize how much she desired him? Didn’t he know now that Elise Martin had finally found the man to whom she was willing to risk it all sexually, he was supposed to fall in line and behave precisely as she imagined he should? Yes, that sounded selfish, but damn it. Was it really that much of a stretch to think he would be as impetuous and bowled over by lust as she was? Why was Lucien always so contradictory?