She awoke to the sensation of Lucien nuzzling her ear with his nose.

“The sun is up. It’s getting warm up here,” he murmured in her ear. “Let’s go downstairs and shower.”

Elise blinked sleepily and sat up in the luxurious bed. The sun was well above the shimmering blue great lake. It must be ten or eleven o’clock in the morning. She closed her eyes and absorbed the sun’s golden warmth. Memories from the magical night replayed in her mind’s eye. She turned to smile at Lucien. He reclined against the pillows naked, a decadently handsome sybarite, watching her through a narrowed gaze. He reached up and caressed her naked shoulder, trailing his finger over her skin.

“Every time I think you couldn’t look more beautiful, you make a liar of me,” he said.

She laughed. “I must look like a wreck.”

“You’re exquisite. You shine brighter than the sun itself.”

Her smile faded at his simple, stark declaration, once again bewildered by his intensity . . . his depths. She could tell he’d meant what he’d said, but he was thinking of something else, as well, something that didn’t match the gilded sunshine and their glorious night of lovemaking.

“Lucien? Is there something wrong?” she asked quietly.

He just stared at her a moment, blinked, and seemed to come to himself. “Of course not. Here, put on your gown,” he instructed, handing her the discarded garment and finding his pants, which he pulled on. He gathered up her jewelry and clambered off the bed. “Come on. Time to cool off in the shower.”

“But what about the bed? I think it’s supposed to rain this evening,” Elise mentioned dubiously as she followed him.

He nodded toward a locked ten-by-fifteen-foot structure in the center of the roof. “I’ll call someone from building maintenance and ask if they’ll break it down and store it in there. It’s an airtight enclosure. I think the bed will fit in there.”

“You’ve never stored it in there before?” she asked, studying his profile closely.

He gave a sideways glance and smiled knowingly. She blushed, suddenly certain he’d guessed at the reason for her question. “I just purchased that bed. For you.”

She grinned, unreasonably happy at the knowledge that he didn’t typically treat women to the decadent fantasy of being made love to by Lucien beneath the stars.

They showered together in the master bath, taking their time, washing each other with caressing fingertips, finding ticklish spots, laughing, and kissing each other’s smiles. Her nipples were still slightly swollen, flushed and sensitive from the nipple chain. Lucien played with them gently while they bathed, his gaze hot and admiring. She loved seeing Lucien like this, relished his unguarded manner, sultry stares, and fond teasing, and she treasured the knowledge that he’d loosened his self-restraint enough to show her more of his true self.

That required trust, didn’t it? she speculated hopefully.

When she noticed how full and firm his penis became as they showered, she reached to stroke him, but he halted her with a hand on her wrists.

“We’ll let it build,” he said, softly cupping an aching breast and tweaking a nipple before he released her. Something about his husky voice and steamy stare sent a thrill through her. At one time, she would have taken his response as a rebuff, but not anymore. He’d proven his desire for her exceeded her wildest dreams. His methods of restraint only served to mount the friction so that the final release was all that much more explosive.

“I’d like to take you somewhere,” he said as he dried her off with a towel a while later.

“Where?” she asked.

“You’ll see,” he replied quietly. “Dress in riding clothes. We’ll go see Jax and Kesara afterward and ride.”

Her curiosity piqued, she dressed in dark brown jodhpurs, boots, and a cream-colored short-sleeved blouse. As she buttoned up the shirt in the bathroom, she noticed that her nipples were still very sensitive, the material of her bra abrading them slightly. It was a pleasant, welcome sensation, a constant reminder of her night spent with Lucien. When she glanced at herself in the mirror, she saw that the peaks protruded from the fitted shirt, showing even through the light padding of her bra. She brushed her fingertips over a stiff nipple. Wincing, she pressed her hand between her thighs to staunch that sudden, sharp ache.

It was as if her body had sprung a billion more nerve endings beneath that starlit sky and Lucien’s touch.

She let her hair dry in natural waves, combed it, and pinned back her bangs with a white and yellow daisy clip. The decoration matched her sunny mood. They shared a smile when they rejoined in the bedroom after dressing, Lucien’s gaze running down over her appreciatively . . . possessively. He cradled her jaw and brushed his thumb over her cheek. He looked outrageously handsome in a pair of khaki-colored breeches, light blue cotton shirt, and scuffed, supple leather dark brown riding boots. What Lucien did to a pair of riding pants ought to be considered illegal, in her opinion. She was about to tease him by saying so but paused, her lips parted, when she saw the intent way his gray eyes ran over her face.

“You’ve bloomed overnight,” he murmured, kissing her so softly, so persuasively, she closed her eyes and lost herself for a moment. He finally lifted his head and took her hand, and they left the penthouse together. He said little once they’d gotten into his sedan, but Elise was divinely relaxed and happy as he maneuvered smoothly through the busy city streets. It was strange, this elevated feeling, this contentment. Her whole life she’d chafed a little inside her own skin, always longing, always striving for the electricity of the perfect moment, maneuvering and pushing herself without really understanding where she wanted to be, or precisely what she wanted to be doing.




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