Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
Cosette
I squeal when Lyam swings me up in the air but soon, with me in his arms, we’re walking back much faster than I’d be able to walk on my own.
“This is crazyyyy,” I protest.
“Your objections? Oh, yeah.” That smug look on his face is so adorable I want to kiss it off.
We pass a few women dressed in tight-fitting skirts and blouses so small they look like bras, but even in their heels they don’t come anywhere near his height.
They stare, mouths open, at the sight of Lyam stalking down the street carrying me, determination written across his face.
I know what they see: a hot as fuck, dominant man in a T-shirt that does nothing to hide his abs, biceps or pecs, tattoos sneaking out and lacing his arms and neck.
My arms strewn around his neck and my shoes hanging on by a thread as my feet helplessly dangle.
Plus, I’m pregnant. They might not know that, but it secretly pleases me to keep that detail in mind.
They don’t know the Lyam that I know. They don’t know that he’s marching down this street because he has plans for me that may or may not involve me on my knees, in his bed, or across his lap.
They don’t know that beneath that stern exterior and coarse mouth lies a man with passionate interests, blood that runs loyal, and a need to conquer unlike any I’ve ever seen.
They don’t know him like I do.
I hear one of them sigh, another whisper, “Il est beau comme un dieu.”
He’s as handsome as a god.
I don’t even think he sees them. He walks right past them without a second glance and slips down a narrow alleyway that takes us to a back door. Since we drove here before, I hadn’t seen the way the doors here were camouflaged.
Down one flight of stairs, then up another. When we get to the front steps, he takes them in two massive strides. I hear clicks and locks and whirring and watch as he quickly and effectively bypasses every security measure in place.
“They should have a place like this for the President,” I mutter.
He quirks a brow at me and doesn’t answer.
“They do?”
“Of course they do. You think they just allow him to walk around in broad daylight like a free-roaming pet?”
“Hey.” I stop him as we head to the elevator. “Speaking of pets…”
His eyes gleam and my heart turns over in my chest. My belly clenches.
Pets.
Lyam has a thing for all sorts of kinks.
“Now that isn’t the kind of pet I’m talking about, Lyam,” I say warningly.
The elevator door slides open.
“What? You want a puppy?”
“Uh, no.” My mind whirrs. “Actually, that would be—no, no.” Stay focused. “I was wondering where your pets are?”
“I only have two snakes now,” he says, a little chagrined. “And they’re both with Thayer at Le Luxe.”
“Why?”
The elevator soars upward. He’s still holding me.
I don’t protest.
“I had to travel, and they don’t travel well. They were with me in Corsica because I was there for months at a time.”
“Right.”
“Why? Do you miss them?” he asks as we arrive at our floor.
“Miss your pet python or your other pets that you treated better than your own mother? Uh, no,” I reply.
I kind of like Princess, his very large but very tame ball python.
“Sure,” he says, shaking his head. “You expect me to believe that?”
I give him a sly smile.
And before I know it, we’re back in the penthouse.
And I’m naked.
Wordlessly he turns from me and heads to the bathroom.
I push myself up on my elbows and look around the room.
The sound of running water. The scent of roses…
And then he’s back in the room, fully clothed, and staring at me with a fire kindling in his eyes that stokes my own.
Oooh, boy.
The pounding flow of water behind me piques my curiosity. What… is that?
“Touch yourself,” he says as he grasps the hem of his shirt and gives it a tug. The tee comes off in one pull and he tosses it on the bed.
He knows this makes me squirm which is exactly why he’s doing it.
I hesitate. Spread my legs. Stare at him.
“What happens if you disobey, baby?” he asks in a deep, low voice laced with warning.
“I don’t know,” I tease, my words faltering, heart pounding. “Why don’t you show me?”
Standing in front of me, his eyes never leaving mine, he shakes his head from side to side as he slowly removes his belt.
“You know I won’t be baited, Cosette.”
Sure he will. He fucking loves this.
“Mmm. I see.”
In two steps he’s by my side and I’m on my knees, hands splayed in front of me. With his sharp tap to my inner thighs, I spread my legs.
The first swish warns me to brace just as the smack of his belt lands on my thighs.
“I’ve done my homework,” he says. “I know you can take it.” Another hard thwack of the belt has me squirming.
“And I further know that you like it. You’re a good girl, taking my belt.
” I squirm to get away from the bite of leather when his warm, rough hand caresses the area he just whipped.
My belly warms to molten honey, his praise dripping down over every inch of my exposed body.
“Just like that, baby. Mmm,” he says when I spread my legs wider as if to beg him for more. “That’s exactly what I want from you. You know it’s actually good for a pregnant woman to be overpowered like this.”
“And spanked?”
Another thwack of the belt has me hissing in a breath while he continues. “That endorphin rush is good for you and the baby.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah, baby.” That voice, all sexy and stern and commanding, the husky tones making my skin crawl and my pussy ache. “Now, touch yourself. And if you stop, I’ll get the cane.”
Gah. That cane’s no joke.
I finger myself, not too surprised to find I’m sopping wet and eager for more. My hips jerk, my need for him rising with every second that passes. Another lash of the belt falls, but I hardly feel it as my body grows hotter and I’m sinking deep into the calming well of submission, craving more.
And then he’s on me, his body fully over mine. His hands cover mine, pinning me down, his torso brushes mine, his mouth at my ear. “Je veux sentir ton corps et me perdre en toi.”
I want to feel your body and get lost in you.
He kisses my shoulder, and I shiver when his rough whiskers graze my sensitive skin. I yelp when his teeth nip my skin, then warmth floods through my core when he licks and nips and bites again. I whimper and moan and arch my back into the strength of him.
When he pushes me flat onto the bed and laces his fingers around my throat, my pulse spikes.
“Breath play,” he whispers. “No breath play. No drawing blood.”
Eeek. Drawing blood?
“If I spank you, I’ll be careful. I know how far I can take you and I know what you need.”
I close my eyes as a sudden rush of emotions threatens to choke me.
He does. He knows what I need, unlike anyone else I’ve ever met or ever dreamed of before. I’ve missed this. I’ve missed him so badly I can’t help the rising feelings that are overcoming me.
“Can I blame the pregnancy hormones?” I say on a sob.
His body stills over mine. I’m tucked under a Lyam blanket.
“For crying?” he asks. When I turn my face to look at him, he kisses my damp cheek. “You can blame whatever you want on the hormones. I like your tears.”
He brushes my cheek and captures a tear before he slides it along his lips.
“You like my tears?”
“Your tears don’t show weakness, Cosette. They show that you trust me.”
Gently, slowly, he pushes himself up and guides me to my back. We fit together like this as if we were carved into creation coupled together, his larger, heavier body above mine, my softer, curvier body beneath his.
I trace my finger along his bicep, outlining the tattoos there. Pushing myself up I kiss each tat, one after the other, tasting them, tracing my tongue over every curve and line. When he moans, I glide my thumb across his chest and over his nipple and kiss another tat.
“Fuuuucckk,” he groans, his head thrown back. The length of his hard cock presses into me.
It surprises me when he pushes out of bed, only to bend and lift me again.
Oh, right.
The scent of roses.
When we reach the bathroom, I see what his plan is. The huge jacuzzi tub is filled with splashes of pink petals.
“You didn’t,” I say, giving him a curious glance.
“Fill a tub for us? Why not?”
“Because it’s romantic.”
“You think I’m not romantic?” he says with a frown as he lowers me into the tub. I moan in pleasure, enveloped in the warm, fragrant water.
“I might fall asleep,” I whisper. “Don’t let me drown.”
The sound of his dark chuckle makes my pulse skitter dangerously. “Oh, I’ll make sure you don’t fall asleep. I can assure you that isn’t happening.” I lean on the edge of the tub, watching him undress. I want to touch myself all over again just eying his chiseled abs and toned legs, and that ass—
“Are you objectifying me?” he asks with a quirk of his eyebrow.
I smile and dive into the water. I could practically swim laps in this thing. I’ve felt so heavy and lethargic, like my limbs were made of lead. Between the nausea and hormones and sensitivity to damn near everything, being here in this tub feels incredible.
His large, rough hand wraps around my ankle and drags me to him with ease.
I splutter water and laugh when he enters the big tub with a splash, sits on the seat submerged in water, and tugs me over to him.
I easily wrap my legs around him. A rose petal clings to one of my breasts like a lily pad.
We both stare. Wordlessly, he bends his mouth to the petal and brushes it aside.
I sigh when he laves my hardened nipple.
“Fucking beautiful breasts. Jesus, Cossie.”
Cossie.
He’s the only one that’s ever called me that. I close my eyes when I’m hit with a rush of emotion. There go those damn tears again.
His words come out sharp and commanding, and I crave more. “Show me.”
I look at him questioningly. “Your breasts. I want to see those nipples. They’re so perfect. Your whole fucking body’s a work of art.”