"Oh god, Lucien."

"Shh." He held her close and kissed her ear. "I still love your tits."

"That's two days on the run," Sophie said, a little unevenly. She was finding it hard to concentrate on speech. "You're in danger of creating a habit."

"And you're in danger of being screwed right here on this dance floor."

He felt her lips form a smile against his mouth.

"Then I guess we’d better sit down."

Sophie sat back down on the love seat and scooted sideways to face Lucien, one leg crooked beneath her. She'd never felt such a heady sensation of sexual exhilaration.

Back in the London Gateway Club she'd been turned on, but guilt had clouded her emotions. Here, in this feline, sophisticated boudoir, she felt liberated, and sexy, and thoroughly adult.

She knew her parted legs were an invitation.

Lucien's eyes dropped to her crotch with the merest lift of an eyebrow, and as he angled his body towards hers, the contours of the seat curved about them, so they were close together both by choice and by necessity. Lucien dropped his hand to rest on Sophie's thigh. She glanced over his shoulder and saw that the couple that'd previously been idly playing were now engaged in full blown sex, the brunette splayed on the chair, the muscles of her partners back gleaming as he knelt before her and pumped his hips.

Brazen with lust, Sophie leaned in and brushed her mouth over Lucien's, opening her legs a little more at the same time. He read her blatant cues perfectly, stroking her inner thighs beneath her dress, his fingers a whisper away from her core.

"How far are you willing to go, princess?" he murmured against her hair, then dragged one slow finger up the entire length of her sex.

Sophie shuddered with pleasure and turned her face to claim his mouth again.

"Further?" he said, trailing back down again. Barely able to breathe with anticipation, Sophie wound her arms around his neck, her fingers massaging his skull, her tongue moving over his.

"More," she breathed.

"I like assertive Sophie." Lucien parted her with his fingers. "Jesus. You feel fucking amazing," he whispered as he let his fingers glide over her opening. "More?"

"Much more."

Lucien's low groan of appreciation rumbled into her mouth as he pushed two fingers deep inside her.

"This much?"

Sophie nodded, rocking on his hand and still desperate for him to go further.

"Feeling brave, princess?" Lucien dropped his other hand between her legs too and in one swift, decisive movement, pushed the lace dress up out of the way.

Up to that point, Sophie had been able to convince herself that their actions were clandestine. Not any more. Lucien had now deliberately exposed their intimacy to anyone who cared to look. Sophie glanced down at his hands between her legs and found that instead of the thought turning her off, it turned her on. Wildly so.

His index finger drew circles on her clitoris.

"You are so much sexier than you know," he said, biting the pad of her thumb when it skimmed his lips. "You have no idea how badly I want to fuck you right now."

He'd voiced her thoughts. His fingers were magic, but she wanted his cock.

"So fuck me."

The words were out of her head and in the air, and his entire body stilled for a moment, apart from the motion of his thumb on her clitoris.

"Sophie..." He seemed hesitant, unable to believe what she’d just said, so she reached down and flicked his trousers open as affirmation. His cock sprang out of its confines, eager and engorged, and Sophie couldn't help but curl her fingers around it.

Lucien shifted a little into the centre of the seat and spread his thighs. "Sit on me."

She swung her leg over him, her hands on the chair back to steady herself, then reached down and positioned the head of his cock.

"All the way, Lucien." Euphoria ran like rapids through her body as she breathed assent into his ear. "I want to go all the way."

Lucien’s eyes gleamed with lust as he placed his hands on her hips and pushed her down onto him, then held her there. Impaled. She lifted her eyes from their coupling and found him watching her with an expression of almost tortured pleasure on his shadowed face.

Sophie scooted her knees forward until they touched the back of the seat either side of his hips, and his hands moved around to cup her backside beneath the rucked up lace skirt.

Behind them, a Rubenesque tableau came to life. The brunette, now on her knees pleasuring her Adonis. At the bar, a naked woman perched on a high stool, Venus leaning back against her lover as he fondled her body. Couples everywhere, in various states of intimacy, locked in their own hedonistic worlds, the eroticism heightened ten-fold by the presence of others orbiting around them.

And Lucien Knight. Beneath her, inside her, all over her. Sophie started to move, letting his hands be her guide, letting their erotic delight build stroke by stroke to breaking point. The music swirled around them, a steady heartbeat dictating the sexual pace, as the low lights and candle shadows spotlit curves and outlined figures. Sophie ground down on Lucien as her body shuddered, and then leaned in close and kissed him through his own jolting, intense climax.

He wound his hands into her hair and eased her mouth off his as his body stilled. "Sophie Black. You fucking amaze me."

Chapter Seventeen

Sophie stretched out an arm, reaching for the warmth of Lucien in the vast bed. Pillows. Expensive sheets. But that was all. Hm. She opened her eyes and squinted against the morning light as she sat up. Lucien's side of the bed was rumpled and decidedly empty.

She flopped back on the pillows and lay still for a few moments, letting the new day settle on her and the previous night’s events come back to her.

The lingerie boutique. The toy store. The sex club.

A quick glance beneath the quilt confirmed that she was nude, and memories of a night entwined with Lucien's equally naked body filtered in. It had been after three in the morning when they'd arrived back at the penthouse, and she'd unhesitatingly invited him to sleep in her bed… because she really wanted him there. Her only lucid memory was of Lucien unlacing her dress and curling his big warm body around hers from shoulder to hip, his leg over hers, his arms bracketing her body. She'd woken at some point and found she'd turned to face him, so close that she could feel his light, even breathing on her cheek as he slept. When she'd closed her eyes again, her dreams had been of sweeping alpine lands, freezing, glassy fjords… and of untamable lone wolves.

Where was he? Sophie lay still and listened for telltale sounds. No running water in the bathroom. No feet padding across marble floors. No low hum of the breakfast news on TV, nor the rattle of a coffee cup on its saucer. Nothing, in fact. Even from her limited vantage point in the bedroom, Sophie sensed that Lucien wasn't here at all.