"Whatever gets you through, princess." He trailed a slow line of kisses across her abdomen to her other hip, then paused again and tipped his head to one side as he looked up her body. "So what if fucking me makes you feel better?" He shifted further down and laid his head against her inner thigh. "Let me be your medicine. In fact, it makes me practically a doctor."

He opened her with his fingers and held her wide, gazing at her sex with a satisfied groan. "Right now, I prescribe cunnilingus." He flicked his eyes up to hers again as his tongue touched against her exposed clitoris. She sucked down air into her suddenly dry throat.

"Drink some champagne. Doctor’s orders," he said, lifting his head a fraction to make space for his fingers.  Sophie did as he suggested, the bubbles cool and welcome as she watched Lucien reach out for the champagne bottle.

Her mind was already feeling fuzzy around the edges. Was he going to top up her glass again? She quickly realised he wasn't as he lowered the bottle and tipped the last of the cold fizz between her legs, making her gasp out loud at the combination of the chill and the thrill. The champagne was ice cold, and Lucien's lapping tongue a second later was sensationally hot. Sophie squirmed, and then put her glass down and covered her pink cheeks with her hands when he touched the neck of the empty bottle against her hot opening. Too much Lucien, too much. The words formed in her head but didn't make it out of her mouth, because he'd eased the cold glass inside her already and fastened his lips over her clitoris.

"Fuck, Lucien..." she gasped, wanting him to stop, wanting him to carry on even more.

He twisted the bottle, and she watched his mouth, mesmerised both by the visual and sensory impact. His tongue relentless over her clitoris. The base of the green glass bottle cupped in his hand. 

"You taste of champagne and sex."

Lucien screwed the bottle into her and the reverberations of his low, lustful voice against her fevered flesh had her hips jerking in response. He knew precisely when she'd reached the point of return, because he switched from playful to lethal, holding her in his mouth as she orgasmed, stroking her clitoris with his tongue until she stilled and her body softened against the sofa.

He eased the bottle out and kissed her there instead, a slow ribbon of barely there brushes of his lips over her sensitive sex. Sophie watched him as her heart rate slowed. Lucien Knight, officially the world's best rebound guy.

Chapter Fourteen

"Where are we going?" Sophie asked, smoothing her hands over the skirt of her beautiful new dress as they sat in the back of the limo. It had been after eleven in the evening when Lucien had woken her to get ready to go out, and now it had just turned midnight as they sped through the damp, illuminated streets of Paris.

"To work."

Lucien sat beside her looking devastating in black from head to foot. His dirty blond hair seemed darker in the nighttime shadows of the car, and his lupine eyes glittered as he watched her.

"To the Gateway club?" Sophie couldn't imagine why they'd need to go back there again tonight.

"No."

He didn't elaborate, and Sophie swallowed her nerves with difficulty. She didn't know where they were headed, and she had the distinct sense that pressing him for information would reveal very little. He eyed her for a second in silence, and then reached out and opened a small chiller cabinet in front of them.

Neat vodka, no ice. Oh God.

If he thought she needed Dutch courage, she really was in trouble.

The distilled liquor evaporated almost as soon it hit the back of her throat, and Lucien added a second large measure to her glass in silence.

He took the tumbler from her fingers once she'd drained it, then turned to her and kissed her suddenly and hard, knocking the breath from her lungs.

She didn't realise the car had stopped until cool air hit her legs as the driver opened her door and Lucien released her with a final nip of her bottom lip.

She glanced around her surroundings as Lucien spoke in low tones to his driver. The street seemed quiet and sophisticated, the building in front of them elegantly unremarkable. Next door to it, however, was a different matter. The moodily lit windows of a boutique had Sophie's eyes rounding with pleasure. Mannequins dressed, or barely dressed, in the most exquisite underwear she'd ever laid eyes on, finely boned corsets and wisps of lace that screamed 'siren'. Lucien placed his hand on the small of her back as their car disappeared into the night.

"Let's go shopping." His hand moved down to caress her bottom. "And let me choose."

"This isn't exactly what I'd call work," Sophie ventured, unsure how to read the situation and emboldened enough by the vodka to question him.

"Let’s call it preparation."

"Preparation for what?" Sophie twisted at the waist to look at him, and he massaged her bottom and leaned close to her ear.

"We're going undercover, and you're inappropriately dressed."

Sophie's eyebrows shot up in dismay. How could her fabulous dress be inappropriate?

"But I love my dress."

He cleared his throat as his eyes swept down her body.

"There's too much of it."

Whoa. As dresses went, it was hardly chaste. Lucien's eyes slid to the boutique windows, and understanding pole-danced around the periphery of Sophie's mind.

"You don't mean..."

"Yes." He propelled her towards the boutique doorway, which opened miraculously for them as they approached. Sophie faltered, but Lucien's arm around her waist left her with no option but to step inside, and the door closed behind them with a small, antiquated tinkle.

If the windows were a prelude, the interior of the shop was very much the main event. Stunning creations in silk and lace lined the blush pink walls, some frilled and polka dotted in a Bardot pin-up style, others sleek and sensual, and more again designed purely to seduce the wearer and their lovers. Body-skimming silks, sculpted lace corsets and ribbons that begged to be untied. Lucien eyed them all with a practised eye while Sophie moved from garment to garment with appreciative delight. She suddenly wished she could call Kara just to hear her say 'what happens in Paris stays in Paris.'

Looking around the shop at the stunning underwear and hyper-aware of the glorious man accompanying her, Sophie had a reprise of her 'luckiest girl in the world' moment.

Thankful for the vodka in her veins, she turned at the touch of Lucien's hand on her waist.

"This way," he murmured.

Sophie looked at Lucien, and then noticed a petite girl in a tiny black dress who appeared next to him holding an armful of garments he'd picked out. He had been busy all the while she had been looking and marvelling.