Knight 01 Knight And Play (23 page)

Lucien’s game was turning out to be one with high emotional stakes, and she was pretty sure it was a game she couldn’t win. She jolted as his fingers bit into the flesh of her bottom.

“Bullshit. Where’s your backbone?” He slid his arm between their bodies and touched between her legs. When his mouth covered hers, his breathing was as laboured as her own.

“I’ll tell you why he does it, Sophie,” Lucien whispered as his deft fingers found her clitoris. “He does it because he can. It’s no more complicated than that.”

His words were in her ears and her head, yet her mind was unable to process them over the sensations of his hand between her legs.

“Monogamy isn’t natural. Not for men, anyway.” He pushed two fingers deep inside her and her knees buckled. “For women, maybe, but not for men.”

He dragged his open mouth up the curve of her neck as his fingers worked between them. Sophie found she wasn’t bothered any more about the possibility of strangers discovering them in the clearing, because she so much wanted the orgasm Lucien was pushing her towards. Yet something in his words stopped her from giving herself over to it. He was wrong. After the week she’d just spent with him, she knew very well that women were every bit as capable of cheating as men.

“I never thought I’d cheat, yet here I am, tied to a tree by a… a… Norwegian sex mogul.”
Jeez. Where had that come from?

“Sex mogul?” he muttered incredulously. He shot her a look, then shrugged. “I’ve been called worse.”

He dropped to his knees and pushed his face into her sex, making Sophie moan as he flicked his tongue over her clitoris. She wanted to open her thighs wider but her jeans held her in constraint. Something about the awkwardness served only to increase the sexiness of the act, and it certainly didn’t impede Lucien’s skill or concentration. He parted her lips with his fingers and buried his tongue inside her folds, sucking and fingering her swollen clitoris until her body started to shake with pleasure.

He unzipped his coat and slid up the length of her body, unbuttoning his jeans as he did so. “Sex mogul,” he repeated under his breath. “A sex mogul who’s about to fuck you.” He had his jeans down and a condom on in a matter of seconds, then positioned himself against her and thrust hard. Sophie cried out at the swift intimacy of the act, at the searing fullness of him, at the relentless friction of his cock sliding against her clitoris. It wasn’t gentle. It was pure, hard fucking, and she orgasmed with a scream almost as soon as he was inside her.

Lucien’s eyes blazed bright with hot lust, and Sophie found herself desperate to hold his face in her hands, to soothe away the tension from his jaw.

He pulled back. “Does it feel this good when he screws you?” His voice came out as a harsh rasp as he slammed into her, making her gasp. Sophie shook her head, unable to say out loud that no, no one in her life had ever made her feel like this. His mouth was all over hers, clashing teeth, sliding tongues, and his fingers curled possessively around her hips to hold her steady as he pumped.

“Does it?” he ground out, his eyes boring into hers. “Answer me, Sophie. Say. The. Fucking. Words.”

She closed her eyes as he tipped his hips and almost lifted her feet from the forest floor, his cock deeper inside her than she’d ever experienced. Tears constricted her throat and made it difficult to speak. “No,” she whispered.

“I can’t hear you.”

“No. No. No!” The words wrenched from her throat, a raw, emotion-filled admission to herself and to Lucien that no, Dan never made her feel this way. That no man had ever made her feel so soaked in lust, or so filled with dark desire, or so powerful and revered and beautiful.

Lucien’s animal, triumphant moan filled her ears, and in answer, a second, even more intense orgasm tightened her body. Slam. Slam. Slam. He clutched her as he came, and she bucked against the base of his shaft as her own release overcame her again in a glittering explosion of pleasure.

Instantly gentle now, Lucien loosed the scarf from her hands and folded her against his chest. She wrapped her arms tightly around him inside his coat and buried her face in his neck, unsure whether he was holding her, or she was holding him.

In the woods, their sex had turned primal. It had certainly brought out the beast in Lucien, brutally dragging the admissions about Dan out of her. But now it was over, Sophie found she was glad of it. He’d freed her from the fear that she’d driven Dan into the arms of another, that she just wasn’t woman enough to hold him. Lucien had made her realise that she couldn’t fix her marriage on her own, because she wasn’t the one who’d broken it in the first place.

More than that, he’d let her see how much power she had within herself: that she, Sophie Black, was enough to drive a man wild. If Dan didn’t see that, then he didn’t deserve her love.

She instinctively tightened her arms around Lucien, holding him in wonder for giving her the most intensely erotic sex she’d ever known, and in gratitude for giving her the confidence to step back into her old life again as a woman to be reckoned with.

She didn’t pretend to understand what made Lucien tick. He might run a string of sex clubs and adult stores, but in his own way he was turning out to be just about the most moral man she’d ever met.

Back on the threshold of the lodge, Lucien was hailed by his groundsman. It was clear from his expression that he was keen to have a detailed discussion with his boss. Sophie waved Lucien away when he threw her an apologetic glance, happy to make her own way to the kitchen in search of coffee.

And that is where she’d fully intended to go, at first walking straight on past the open door of Lucien’s study. But then she hesitated. It had been closed when he’d given her the guided tour and she hadn’t given it a thought, but now it stood open and there was a chance to peep behind the curtain. Lucien gave away so little of himself, yet he seemed to know so much of her. Maybe gathering a little more information, understanding a little more, would help her to see behind the façade he’d chosen to reveal.

She glanced uncertainly up and down the deserted corridor, acutely aware that an open door was not necessarily an invitation to enter. Then her curiosity overcame her scruples and she stepped inside.

The room was similarly furnished to the rest of the lodge, yet subtly different. More spartan, more pared down, distilled to reflect the essence of the man who used it.

A large, sleek desk dominated the space, and Sophie slid into the oxblood leather swivel chair behind it to survey the room. Floor-to-ceiling windows created a glass wall looking out over the fjord, more expressive than any mural or expensive artwork could ever have been. Sophie was fast learning that this building was all about making the most of that beautiful vista: every room paid homage to the slice of alpine heaven beyond.

Her eyes moved back into the confines of the study, hungry for knowledge, now that she’d allowed herself to trespass into Lucien’s sanctuary. It was bereft of ornament or art, which served only to highlight the one personal possession in the room.

Sophie reached out and touched a finger against the silver frame of the large black and white photograph on Lucien’s desk, recognising straight away the unmistakable features of the blonde child with the shining eyes. He couldn’t have been more that ten in the picture, but even as a young boy, Lucien had been breathtaking. His defined cheekbones were softened by the bloom of youth, and laughter lit up the smile that cracked his face wide open.

But it was the innocent look of love in his eyes that made Sophie’s heart contract with emotion. Lucien’s laughter and adoration were all directed towards the woman alongside him in the shot, her arms wound around his slender shoulders. She was elegantly dressed in black, with her blonde hair drawn away from her face. Discreet diamonds glinted in the delicate bracelet around her wrist.

Her gaze was focused on Lucien as she looked down, and even without the benefit of her full features turned towards the camera it was obvious that the woman could only be Lucien’s mother. The connection between them jumped out from behind the glass, and the private joke they shared excluded the world around them. Sophie sighed at the tenderness of the picture, the unbreakable bond of love between a devoted mother and son.

Holding the frame in her hands, Sophie studied the relaxed set of the boy Lucien’s shoulders and the carefree expression on his face. The man she’d come to know over the last few days was all hard angles and taut muscles, but more than that, he was all about being in control of himself and in charge of those around him. He radiated a low frequency of danger at all times, and Sophie sensed that if he needed to be, he would be utterly ruthless. What had happened to him? Where had his softness gone, the openness she saw in the picture?

Sure, everyone grows up, but the child in the photograph was a world away from the man whose arms she’d just left.

“What are you doing in here?”

Sophie’s head jerked up guiltily at the sound of Lucien’s carefully controlled voice from the doorway.  She’d been so engrossed in her thoughts that she hadn’t heard his approaching footsteps, or realised that he was at the door watching her.

“I just… I wanted to…” She was thoroughly flustered, and well aware that the more she stumbled over her words, the more guilty she made herself sound.

“You wanted to what, Sophie?”

She hadn’t heard that tone in his voice before. Dead flat, and all the more predatory for its quietness.

Sophie glanced down at the frame still in her hands, and carefully set it back on the desk. So she was in his office. It wasn’t the crime of the century, he hadn’t expressly asked her not to come in here, and she hadn’t snooped around. Not really. The photograph was easily the most arresting thing in the office: the austerity of the room seemed designed to draw the eye to it, so looking at it had been a natural response. She settled her shoulders back and met his eyes.

“The door was open. I didn’t realise it was off limits.”

Lucien’s unreadable gaze slid to the photograph frame, and then slowly back to Sophie.

“It’s a beautiful shot,” she said softly, watching him for a reaction. Practised as he obviously was at hiding his emotions, Lucien couldn’t stop the pulse that flickered along his tense jaw, nor the way his throat moved as he swallowed hard. Several seconds passed before he spoke again.

“Yes.” He paced across the room to the windows, his face in profile as he watched the fjord beyond. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t come in here again.”

It was a clear and direct dismissal, and it frustrated the hell out of Sophie. He’d employed the same tactic last night in the jacuzzi, slamming the brakes on in the face of any questions that went beyond the here and now.

“Is it your mother?”

She saw his throat move again, but his eyes remained fixed on the view.

“It is.”

“She’s stunning.”

Lucien nodded slowly. “She was.”

Sophie drew in a breath. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“You obviously…” Sophie glanced back at the picture with new comprehension, then up at Lucien’s deceptively passive profile. “You must miss her.”

“Must I?”

Sophie frowned, aware that he was deliberately making the conversation as difficult as possible.

He turned to her. “Look, I need to make a couple of calls, Sophie. Would you mind…?” His eyes strayed to the door.

“Why do you do that?” Sophie asked, making no move to rise from his chair.

Lucien audibly sighed. “Do what?”

“Change the subject whenever I ask about personal stuff.”

He shrugged and rolled his eyes, a deliberate display of nonchalance that didn’t fool Sophie for a second. 

“I don’t. There’s just nothing to say.”

“But surely you have family here in Norway?”

His jaw set hard again and his nostrils flared slightly. Sophie knew she was pushing him, but she wasn’t ready to stop. The scales of knowledge were currently tipped too far in his favour and she wanted to redress the balance.

He shrugged. “Some.”

“Brothers… sisters?”

“Why does this matter?”

“Because it does, Lucien. You’re happy enough to delve into my marriage. Surely I can ask questions, too?”

His eyes darkened as he considered his response. “Fine.” He crossed his arms over his chest, a defensive wall. “No brothers. No sisters. My mother is dead. Anything else?”

Sophie baulked at the blunt delivery of his words, and the bleakness that lay behind them.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured again.

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago and I’m a big boy. I can look after myself.”

She didn’t doubt it. But still something held her in the chair, even though he’d made it clear he wanted her out of his office and for this conversation to be over.

“And your father?”

Lucien’s eyes narrowed, and Sophie noticed the way his fingers bit into his upper arms.

“Enough, Sophie.”

So that was it.
“Is he here in Norway?”

Lucien placed his palms down on the desk and fixed her with a fierce, unwavering stare. “I said that’s enough.”