Chapter 7
ASPEN
Three hours later, and every muscle in my body twisted with the rage I held coiled inside.
Not one opportunity to corner Lucian about what he’d done.
Not a single chance to release an ounce of tension he’d left me with after bringing me to the edge.
On top of everything else, the wet slide of his cum between my thighs brought an illicit and forbidden thrill to my pussy, compounding my anger.
For three hours, I stood by his side, forcing smiles and false pleasantries while everyone congratulated us on our engagement. Instead of slapping his hand away, I endured the warmth of his palm on my lower back every single fucking second.
Now, I sat in the too-small backseat of the hired car on our way home, pressing myself to the opposite door, trying to get as far away from him as possible.
Now, even though we were finally alone, I ignored his presence and choked back all the words I’d imagined spewing at him. I feared that once I started, I wouldn’t stop.
Now, I held myself under the tightest control, silently repeating the mantra that if I made it home, I’d be okay. If I made it home, I’d get the release he denied me. Alone.
I stared at the city lights flashing by and imagined going to my room, pulling out my vibrator, and getting myself off. I didn’t need Lucian fucking Daire.
At least I hoped not.
I’d tried to orgasm with a toy before, but never reached that peak of pleasure.
But that was before, when I couldn’t orgasm at all. Surely, now that I’d orgasmed with Lucian, I’d be able to have an orgasm on my own.
I’d make sure I could.
I did not. Need. Lucian. Daire.
The car barely stopped at the curb of Lucian’s building before I bolted. If I could make it to the elevator before him, maybe he’d miss it.
Nope.
He stalked behind me like a nightmare I couldn’t escape. No matter how fast I moved, he was always there. He strolled into the elevator with placid features that still dripped with more arrogance than any man should possess.
By the time we crossed the threshold into the apartment, my control poured from every movement.
I slapped my purse on the entryway table.
I ripped off my shoes and tossed them aside, where they clattered against the kitchen tiles.
I smacked my hand against the railing and stomped up each ascending step.
“Where are you going?” he asked, the calm to my storm.
“To bed,” I answered halfway up the stairs. “Without you.”
He grunted his disapproval from the bottom step. “Not before I check to ensure you followed my order tonight.”
I faltered, almost missing a step, and sucked in a breath, amazed that he thought I would let him touch me after tonight. “Fuck off.”
“That’s not a polite response.”
I flipped him off over my shoulder, focusing on my escape.
“Are you still upset, princess?”
That damn nickname, said in such a casual tone, wrapped around me and squeezed, locking me in place just as I made it to the top. I whipped around and glared. “Do. Not. Fucking. Call me that.”
He scanned me from head to toe, studying me with a tilt of his head, like I was some odd piece of art he didn’t understand. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
His relaxed posture, aloof expression, and that maddeningly calm tone—laced with amusement and false sincerity—struck a spark straight through my restraint.
Anger flared so hot it robbed me of speech.
Instead, an unhinged, screeching growl tore from my throat as I spun and bolted.
I needed distance from this man before I killed him.
I almost made it to my room. Almost.
His hand clamped around my arm, yanking me back into him before crowding me against the wall.
“This is familiar,” he murmured, smirking down at me.
“Let. Go.”
“Not until I’ve checked.”
Again, that cool tone grated along the frayed rope of my control.
It pissed me off.
It made me feel unhinged.
It left me vibrating on the brink of bursting.
Balanced on the edge of exploding, I made a decision. If he was going to push and push and push—then I wasn’t going alone. I would take him with me.
I shoved him, trying to skirt away, but he towered over me with his height and backed me down the hall—closer to his room.
Dammit.
“Isn’t your hand tired after all that work earlier?” I sneered.
His mouth twitched. “Worried about my hands?”
I glared, my mind too scattered to shape a careful response, grasping for anything that might crack his composure. I hurled the first words that reached my lips, messy and unfiltered. “I’m more worried that my future husband might be too scared to use his cock.”
He froze mid-step.
His eyes tightened.
The muscle along his jaw ticked.
I relished the direct hit, not fully understanding the crack in his aloof exterior, but soaking up the win.
“I’m more worried about your poor pussy taking my cock as hard and rough as I fuck.”
“I’ve taken it before.”
“Miss me?”
God, yes. The truth almost slipped free, but I choked it back. “Hardly,” I answered instead.
“Really?” he asked, his brow arching. “So, if I reach under your dress, past all my cum painting your thighs, I wouldn’t find you wet and begging for my dick?”
Heat blossomed in my chest, and I sucked in a sharp breath, praying the flush wouldn’t climb my neck to my cheeks.
Because I was wet—so fucking wet. The last thing I needed was for him to find out.
The last thing I needed was for him to touch me again—knowing that if he did, I’d fall straight back into the pleading, desperate mess he’d left me in before.
I stepped back. “You wouldn’t know what to do if you did.”
He stepped forward. “I think I’ve more than proved I know exactly what to do with your pretty pussy.”
“Maybe with your mouth and hands,” I taunted with another retreating step.
He didn’t move.
I advanced, imitating his nonchalance with a shrug. “Maybe your cock is a one-hit wonder and scared of what will happen if you go for round two.”
He stepped back, something flickering behind his dark eyes.
Was that fear? Had I guessed right? Was he scared and holding back?
He stood before me like a puzzle. I didn’t understand the image, but I kept finding pieces that locked together. As I basked in my victory, another piece stood out—Ash’s words from earlier in the night.
“That man down there is watching you like he craves you and is fighting to hold back.”
On its tail was the memory of Lucian explicitly telling me he would never crave anyone and continuously reminding me he would never love anyone.
But Ash claimed to have seen it. He’d pushed me to see it myself.
Had he been right? Did his claims have anything to do with why Lucian held back?
I had no idea, but I latched on to the thought. I wanted to cling to the edge I’d gained and push him further.
I advanced another step forward, lifting my chin with my own arrogance. “Or maybe you’re scared of what being inside me made you feel.”
His shoulders tensed.
His eyes darkened.
He stepped forward.
I had barely a heartbeat to savor my win before his hand shot out, locking around my neck and pinning me against the wall.
He leaned in, his face so close it blocked the light, swallowing me in his darkness.
Fear spiked, screaming for me to flee—but adrenaline ricocheted through my veins and settled deep in my core, leaving me unbearably wet.
“Maybe you’re just a desperate little girl scared of getting teased with nothing to show for it but a needy cunt and no orgasm.” His voice rumbled between us with a dark promise that stroked my skin.
Despite his shadowy depths, I caught the same flicker in his eyes as before, calling out to me to keep pushing and finish what I started.
“Maybe you’re scared that once you get back inside me, you won’t want to leave,” I taunted softly. “Maybe you’re scared that you’ll crave me.”
His jaw clenched.
“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, princess.” The fingers around my neck tightened. “I don’t crave any woman. But by all means, if you’re so desperate for me to fuck you, then I’ll happily do so.”
Before I could respond, he flipped me, pressing me face first into the wall.
Any victory I thought I’d claimed vanished—insignificant compared to the thrill of what would come next.
But first, I’d make him work for it.
LUCIAN
“No,” she mumbled into the wall.
Despite her objection and attempts to push back, I kept going. She knew how to stop me, and “no” wasn’t the right word.
I pressed my body to hers, pinning her to the wall to free my hands.
Fisting her skirt, I bunched the material higher, baring her lush curves inch by inch.
“Nice try.” I buried my face in her hair, laughing dark and low.
“You’ve done nothing but beg for me to fuck you all night, and you think you can say no now? I don’t fucking think so.”
“Fuck you,” she grunted with another failed attempt to push away from the wall.
Her ass pressed against my cock, and I groaned.
I’d been semi-hard all night, slipping closer and closer to the edge with every brush against her.
I should have let her go as soon as we walked into the apartment, knowing how close I was to losing control, but I’d seen the sway of her ass as she stomped away, taunting me with her smart mouth, and I couldn’t let her go.
She touched a fear I’d buried and sworn wasn’t real, slicing through the last of my control. The restraint keeping me in check shattered, and I snapped.
You can stop now.
The thought whispered through my mind—an easy solution.
I could step back. I could stop all of this, continue to make excuses, and avoid repeating the loss of control I experienced the last time we fucked.
But then I reached her warm, soft skin, and her words echoed inside my head.
Scared.
Scared that you’ll crave me.
Absolutely fucking not, and there was only one way to prove it to her—and myself.
“I plan to.”