CHAPTER 17
Amelia
Lucien’s hand was warm and steady as he helped me out of his luxury car.
My lips felt swollen, thoroughly kissed. My hair was tousled, falling in messy waves around my shoulders. And my skirt—God, my skirt had ridden up so high during the drive that it was practically at my panties.
I stumbled slightly on my heels, and Lucien caught me, that knowing smile playing at his lips.
“Sorry,” I said, quickly adjusting my skirt. “I must look completely disheveled.”
“You look absolutely gorgeous.” Lucien’s voice was low, appreciative. “The ‘I don’t care’ look is incredibly sexy on you, ma chérie.”
Heat crept up my neck. The last two days with Lucien had been... extraordinary.
Couple’s massages at Paris’s most exclusive spa, where attendants catered to our every whim. Long, steamy sex sessions at his penthouse that left me boneless and satisfied in ways I didn’t know were possible. And through it all, being treated like royalty. Like a queen.
Everywhere we went, there was staff. An entourage that materialized to fulfill my every wish before I could even voice it. Lucien made it his sole mission to ensure I had everything.
Both brothers—Lucien and Florin—knew exactly how to make a woman feel seen and worshiped. Whether through sex or through treating her like she was the only woman in the world who mattered.
The car pulled up a long, tree-lined driveway. And at the end of it sat a mansion that looked like something straight out of a Disney movie.
The approach from the gate itself was easily half a mile. The massive dark wood doors must have been fifteen feet tall, and as we approached them, Lucien turned to me.
He took my hand and brought it to his lips, his dark eyes serious.
“Are you ready for this?”
Butterflies exploded in my stomach. “Yes.”
But was I? After all, it wasn’t every day that a mom from New Jersey got to be photographed in a French mansion by one of the world’s most renowned fashion photographers.
The bedroom they’d chosen for the shoot was enormous and impossibly beautiful. Soft lighting had been set up everywhere, creating an intimate, feminine atmosphere.
Vivienne, the photographer Lucien had hired, was nothing like I’d imagined. Instead of some intimidating fashion icon, she looked like she could still be in college—maybe early twenties, with tattoos covering both arms, a sexy chin piercing, and a tongue stud that glinted when she laughed.
Which she did. A lot.
“Okay, gorgeous, unbutton the top two buttons of your shirt,” Vivienne said, her French accent softer than Lucien’s. “We want that ‘just woke up’ vibe.”
I was lying on a massive bed that had been artfully tousled—white sheets, plush pillows everywhere. I wore only a white button-down shirt that fell to mid-thigh, and white socks. Nothing else.
The brief was simple: a woman lounging in bed. Natural. Comfortable. Real.
I unbuttoned the top two buttons, suddenly very aware of Lucien and Florin standing next to Vivienne, watching every shot appear on the monitor.
“Beautiful!” Vivienne called out, clicking away. “Now touch your hair. Slowly. Like you’re just running your fingers through it.”
I did as she said, and after the first few minutes, something shifted. The nervousness melted away. I felt... natural. Like I belonged here.
“You’re a natural!” Vivienne confirmed. “The camera loves you, babe. Now give me that look—the one where you’re thinking about someone you want.”
I glanced at Lucien and Florin. Both were watching me with intense focus, their expressions full of approval and something hotter.
That made it easy to give Vivienne the look she wanted.
The second setup was completely different.
Pink. Everything was pink.
Pink bed, pink nightstand, pink walls, pink lamp. And I was wearing the most ridiculously sexy bunny costume I’d ever seen—a tiny, tight pink bodysuit with a fluffy white tail and bunny ears with pink and black outlines.
I felt absolutely sexy.
The way Lucien and Florin were looking at me made me want them both inside me right now.
Then I caught myself. What? What am I thinking? I want both of them inside me?
But why not? I was in an open marriage that my husband had tricked me into. And now I was enjoying every moment of it. Why shouldn’t I experience being pleasured by two men at once?
I should absolutely experience this.
Both Lucien and Florin were staring at me with eyes full of lust and longing, and I stared right back, letting them see exactly what I was thinking.
“Okay, babe, pick up the champagne,” Vivienne directed. “Take a sip. Let it linger on your lips. Perfect!”
The champagne was Dom Pérignon—I’d learned to recognize it by now. Vivienne took shots of my lips, my face, my whole body from different angles while I sipped from the crystal flute.
Before I knew it, the bottle was empty and the shoot was wrapping up.
I was drunk. Not falling-down drunk, but that perfect tipsy where everything felt warm and possible and all I could think about was having wild, uninhibited sex with Lucien and Florin.
I couldn’t think of anything else.
“Amelia, you’re incredible,” Vivienne said, coming over to give me a hug.
“I couldn’t believe what a natural you are.
I’ve shot supermodels who’ve been doing this for years who don’t have half your presence.
” She turned to the brothers. “You both have the keen eye required to identify a diamond. Because Amelia is a true diamond.”
As the crew started packing up equipment and filtering out, Lucien approached me with an envelope.
“You are much more valuable than the numbers written on the check in this envelope,” he said softly.
Florin joined us. “You are so precious that you’re invaluable. But we had to put a number there for your time in this campaign. Though the time you’ve already given us—no one can put a number on that.”
My hands trembled slightly as I opened the envelope and pulled out the check.
Eight million euros.
I stared at the number, unable to process it. Eight million? I hadn’t even thought about the money. I was doing this for the experience, for the adventure, for the thrill of being the muse of two of the world’s most powerful and creative men.
And now I was getting eight million euros for a single photoshoot?
Both Lucien and Florin looked at me with concern.
“Are you happy with this amount?” Lucien asked carefully. “We can negotiate if—”
I smiled. The kind of smile that said everything words couldn’t.
Here I was, in a bunny suit in a pink bedroom in a French mansion with two painfully handsome brothers. I’d just earned eight million euros. And I was horny as hell, the champagne making everything feel dreamlike and perfect.
I looked at both of them. “You both could do something else to make me happier.”
Lucien and Florin exchanged a glance. Then they both looked back at me with matching expressions of desire.
“We were wondering when we were going to ask you the same thing,” Florin said, his voice low.
As soon as I nodded, they both descended on the bed with me.
Florin went for my mouth, kissing me deeply, while Lucien’s hands went to the laces of my bunny costume. The outfit was already ridiculously skimpy, and my panties had garters attached.
Lucien looked at the garters and groaned. “Baby girl, you are the most gorgeous thing in the world.”
Florin tugged at my hair—not gently—and I felt a flush of heat race up my spine. He knew I liked it rough. He knew exactly what I needed.
He yanked harder, bringing my face close to his, and kissed me with bruising intensity. His thumb smeared my lipstick across my cheek, marking me.
Meanwhile, Lucien had unlaced the bunny costume so it hung limply from my breasts. His hands found my nipples, kneading and pinching until I gasped into Florin’s mouth.
I’d never felt so wanted. So completely desired.
This was my first time with two men, and I felt a kind of bliss spreading through every atom of my body. I wanted to be possessed by both of them, to surrender completely, to let them take me to places I’d never been.
“On your fours,” Florin commanded.
“Yes, sir,” I breathed, getting into position.
I understood the game now. I was their submissive, and they were my dominant masters. And God, I loved it.
Florin moved behind me while Lucien positioned himself in front. He grabbed my hair—hard—and tilted my face up to look at him.
“Do you want to suck daddy’s dick?” he growled.
“Yes,” I whispered.
He tugged harder. “You’re a bad girl. Say ‘yes, sir.’”
“Yes, sir,” I corrected, loving every second of this.
He guided me to him, and I took him in my mouth, finding a rhythm while Florin teased me from behind, his hardness pressing against me before finally, finally entering me.
The sensation of being filled from both ends was overwhelming. I worked Lucien with my mouth while Florin thrust into me from behind, both of them moving in a rhythm that built and built until—
I came with such force I had to pull away from Lucien, crying out. At almost the same moment, Lucien finished, his release coating my mouth and dripping down to my breasts.
But they weren’t done with me.
Lucien picked me up and positioned me on the edge of the bed. My bunny costume was pooled around my waist, the ears still on my head but askew now.
I caught my reflection in a mirror across the room and barely recognized myself. I looked like something out of Playboy—a fantasy come to life. Cum on my chin and breasts, my makeup smeared, my body flushed with pleasure.
I’d never looked more beautiful.
Lucien massaged my breasts while Florin knelt and took my toes into his mouth, sucking gently.
I didn’t even know I had a foot fetish until that moment, but the sensation shot straight to my core.
Then Florin moved higher, his face buried between my legs, his tongue working magic while Lucien continued his ministrations on my breasts.
They took turns—one pleasuring me while the other watched, then switching. Over and over until I lost count of how many times I came, until my body was limp and boneless and completely satisfied.
I felt pure and filthy all at once. Submissive and powerful. Used and worshipped.
Two men who saw me, loved me, possessed me, and treated me like the queen I was always meant to be.
And as I lay there between them, champagne-drunk and sex-satisfied, I thought: This is what heaven feels like.