Norway had become their second home over the years, and Sophie loved it in summertime best of all. The mountains bloomed with lush grass and beautiful wild flowers, and the sun kissed their shoulders as they unwound from the stress of their full-on London life. Back at home, they'd grown accustomed to synchronising their diaries and locking the office door whenever the need to road test the latest sex toy became too much; out here it was blissful just to soak up the sun and enjoy each other at a more leisurely pace.

Not that there had been anything leisurely about the way Lucien had stripped her earlier that afternoon whilst Tilly took her afternoon nap. His sexual appetite seemed only to grow as their relationship progressed, as did his adventurousness.

No boundaries, no lies, and no one else were the three golden rules they'd built their relationship on, and boy did Lucien like to test her boundaries often. Life at his side was never boring, and she'd never been happier.

"Keep scrubbing," he whispered, his mouth roaming over the curves of her bottom. She tried really quite hard, but her mind wasn't on the job at hand as he moved his warm shoulder between her thighs to part them enough to accommodate him. She gave up any pretense of working as he licked her inner thighs, then tipped his head back to fleetingly mouth her sex. She closed her eyes as his fingers slid inside her, and moaned with appreciation when he returned his mouth to her clitoris for a slow, body-melting suckle. She gasped his name, opening her eyes as Lucien slid up the length of her body and unbuttoned his jeans behind her.

Knowing how good it was going to feel only made her want him more. She cried out as his hardness filled her softness, gasps of pleasure as he found his easy rhythm. He held her there, captive and impaled, kissing her neck as he drew circles on her clitoris with his index finger.

"You're the filthiest fucking maid I've ever known," Sophie could feel him smiling against her ear. "You've got the job."

She would have laughed, but all of her concentration was centred on how close her body was to coming. Lucien picked up on her change of tempo, switching from an easy glide to a thrusting ram against the kitchen work surface.

It was sex, it was fucking, and it was making love. It was life in glorious technicolour, full of promise and joy. The best of all worlds, with the best of all men.

THE END