The melancholy twisted into anger. Lucien was right. Dan hadn’t given her a second thought when he’d planned his clandestine holiday. Christ… what if he wasn’t coming back? Had he left her and just couldn’t find the balls to tell her?

She shut her eyes. What a mess. Why was she here? What did it prove, really? That anything Dan could do, she could do better? Because one thing was for sure. Whatever Dan had done, she was going to do far worse before Sunday rolled around.

“So, Sophie. I’m intrigued.” Lucien said conversationally, breaking her train of thought. “Why the glass dildo?”

Lucien directed Sophie upstairs to his bedroom whilst he grabbed a fresh bucket of ice and a bottle of vodka from the freezer. He pocketed the blindfold and the metal acorn as he passed through the lounge, plunging the glass dildo into the ice bucket as he headed for the stairs.

In a late night bar in Greece, Dan ordered another brandy just to annoy Maria. She objected to him drinking too much in case he couldn’t perform in bed. Nothing like Sophie, who happily matched him drink for drink then loved to slide tipsily into a late night game of strip poker. Or else she used to, back when they were happy. Where had it all gone so wrong?

He looked up as Maria wound her way back across the bar. Brunette instead of blonde. Gym-firm instead of softly curved.

She smiled when she caught his eye, and then pinched her brows together when he saluted her with his refreshed brandy glass. Whatever.

Sophie lingered in the doorway of Lucien’s vast bedroom. More floor to ceiling glass, but by now the view was hidden beneath the velvet cloak of the black night sky. A huge, metal-framed bed dominated the central space of the room, covered in snowy white sheets, plump cushions, and throws fashioned from neutral velvets and furs. Den-like. The hairs on the back of Sophie’s neck prickled at the thought of spending the night in it with Lucien.

The rest of the room was almost clinically tidy, the sleek wooden walls and floors disrupted only by a huge sheepskin rug. This was very much Lucien’s lair, and Sophie felt for a moment as a lamb to the slaughter. She moved across and perched on the edge of the bed at the sound of Lucien coming upstairs, and noted with apprehension that there were mirrors on the ceiling over his bed. It seemed curiously old hat, a kind of borderline lazy way for a love god to mark out his territory.

“Refreshments,” he said, placing the ice bucket down. “And entertainment.” He dropped the blindfold onto the bedside table and laid the silver acorn next to it. He flicked a lighter to a candle, then turned to face her. His eyes skimmed down the terry gown still wrapped tightly around her body.

“You’re overdressed.”

Naked beneath the robe, Sophie’s pulse accelerated.

He watched her in silence for a long few seconds, and when she didn’t move to undress, he reached down and flicked the top button of his own jeans open instead. Sophie blinked hard, her eyes following his fingers as he worked the second button open. She cleared her throat as he went for the third. His golden, sculpted navel gleamed in the candle glow. As he released the last button, he pushed his jeans down and stepped free of them, then straightened, buck naked and utterly nonchalant.

“See? No clothes. Easy.”  He spread his hands wide, and Sophie gorged on the visual feast he was offering her.

He was easily the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, in real life, or in magazines or movies. All gleaming hard planes and athletic, lean muscle. Sophie’s eyes strayed lower, beyond his navel.

Christ. His cock. She pulled in her breath hard as she stared at the thick, long curve standing rigid against his abdomen. Despite the fact that she’d experienced him so intimately inside her, this was the first chance she’d had to see him fully naked. He took her breath away.

When she eventually dragged her eyes back up to his face, she found that cocky half smile back in place on his lips. He knew the effect he was having on her. He turned away.

God, how her fingers itched to touch those broad, inked shoulders, to trail down the length of his granite spine to his perfectly curved backside. Sophie puffed her fringe out of her eyes. If Lucien had been around in the Renaissance period, sculptors would have gouged out their own eyeballs for a chance to sculpt him.

He turned back around and tipped his head to one side.

“Your turn.”

Sophie caught her bottom lip between her teeth, trapped between nerves and the desire to comply. Desire won. She got slowly to her feet, and Lucien moved around her to take her place on the edge of the bed. He planted his hands on the fur throw behind him, his cock looming large and shameless in front of him.

Sophie licked her dry lips and reached for the belt of the gown.

“Turn around.”

She hadn’t expected instruction, but accepted his request with a tingle of lust in her groin. Her back turned, she released the belt.

“Go slow.”

His low command made her revise her plan to drop the robe, and she shimmied it just one shoulder off instead.

“Good girl.”

Encouraged, she slid the other shoulder down, but kept hold of the robe as it slipped down her spine, holding it as a seductive cover over her bottom. She turned to throw a saucy glance at Lucien over one shoulder and found him slowly stroking the length of his hard cock with one hand.

Her jaw dropped and she turned away quickly, letting the robe fall to the floor. The knowledge that he was behind her, lazily masturbating, turned her knees to jelly, and a snake pit of nerves writhed in her gut as she willed herself to be brave. She turned back around to face him.

He didn’t take his hand away from his erection as he nodded slowly, his eyes sliding from her face to her breasts. Sophie felt her nipples pucker into ripe beads under his scrutiny, and she could barely get her breath as his eyes travelled lower. Her hands were awkward at her sides, and she knew her cheeks were pink with discomfort and desire in equal measure.

Lucien stared at her crotch and stroked himself for a second longer, then licked his lips and stood up.

His height above hers struck Sophie anew, further enhanced by the vulnerability of being naked.

“You see?” He gestured to their bodies with his hands.

“Man.” He touched his fingers to his chest and raised his eyebrows.

“Woman.” He brushed his fingertips over the base of her throat.

“Sex is natural.” He trailed one finger down the valley between her breasts to her navel, making her stomach muscles jitter in response. “And fucking beautiful.”

His clear blue eyes held hers. “Now, forget everything else,” he said, “And Get. On. That. Bed.” He punctuated his words with heavy pauses, turning his invitation into a desire-laden demand that Sophie was powerless to resist.