"You can't make up new rules."
He lifted an eyebrow at her lazily then pushed a card across the table.
She looked at it with trepidation, then reached down and flipped it over quickly.
"Ha!" She pointed at the queen of clubs and then at Lucien. "Ha!"
He turned over the king of diamonds and sat back with his arms folded across his naked chest.
"Dress. Off. Now."
Sophie's problem lay in her underwear. The idea of continuing this game clad only in the indecent quarter-cup bra and barely-there knickers had her reaching for her tequila yet again.
Was she brave enough? Her only other option was to throw in the towel, and that didn't feel like something that could happen in Lucien's rulebook. Besides, she wanted to keep asking him questions. What’s more, she had to acknowledge that a part of her did want to take off her dress and let him look. A frisson ran through her body at the thought.
He watched her weigh up her options in silence, arms still crossed and a look of unyielding expectation on his face.
The dress had to come off. She stood up, reminded of her first time with Lucien in the Gateway club in London. Back then he'd asked her to take her dress off rather than ordered her, though.
She reached for the side zip and slid it down, then shrugged the dress into a pool on the floor. Two options presented themselves. Sit down quickly, or stand there brazenly and let him drink his fill.
"Sophie, Sophie, Sophie."
Lucien's low, appreciative groan sealed the deal.
Sophie attempted the universal model pose, a hand on her hip, one knee slightly bent, and Lucien nodded a little.
"Fucking beautiful."
He stood and walked slowly towards her, and she held her breath in anticipation.
"Something's not quite right," he said, close enough to touch her anywhere he chose. Her nipples beaded for him, and the tip of his tongue touched his lips as he looked at them.
"Sit down."
Her eyes flickered to his, and he inclined his head towards the armchair. Surprised, Sophie perched uncertainly, and Lucien took his place behind her on the arm of the chair.
"It's your hair," he murmured, resting his hands on the curve of her neck, his thumbs rolling on her backbone. "I want it down." Her hands moved to unpin it, but he caught them and laid them back in her lap. "Let me."
Sophie closed her eyes as his fingers moved over her hair, slowly removing the pins one by one. It was an act of tenderness, so out of place in the theatre of their sex games that it brought a lump to her throat. This was what had been missing from her marriage, too. Scorching sex was all well and good, but she could have lived forever with Dan's missionary style if he'd shown her even a fraction of the sensitivity that Lucien did right at that moment.
She heard the tinkle of pins on glass, then felt the strength and warmth of Lucien's fingers working through her hair. Mussing, freeing, caressing. He moved from the arm of the chair and dropped to his knees between hers, then leaned back a little to survey his handiwork. His eyes roamed over her hair, her face, then lower, to her exposed breasts.
"Now you're perfect."
He dipped his head first to one nipple, then the other. The lightest of kisses, the briefest swirl of his tongue before he lifted his face to hers and kissed her mouth. His hands slid into the hair he'd just unpinned, his kiss tasted of tequila and tenderness and desire.
He'd done it again. Blindsided her with his contradictions: one minute the lustful Viking and the next her romantic hero. He kissed her until she couldn't think straight, until her arms wound around him of their own accord, until all thoughts of anything but how very much she wanted him left her head.
And then he stopped and retreated to his own chair.
"I believe it's my turn to ask a question," he said.
She swallowed, already mourning the loss of his touch.
"Tell me your wildest sexual fantasy."
Fuck. Before Lucien, her wildest fantasy had been sex that lasted more than ten minutes and guaranteed that she'd get to her own orgasm before Dan climaxed and rolled over.
And since Lucien, the idea of fantasies seemed absurd because he was one great big living fantasy, and he made her think and do things that were all well above and beyond any that her sheltered imagination could conjure up.
"Honestly?" she said, embarrassed. "I don't have any."
Lucien looked incredulous. "Everyone has fantasies, princess."
Sophie shook her head. "Our lives are very different, Lucien."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning that before I met you my life revolved around the weekly shop, the TV guide and scrubbing the bath. I was someone's wife, someone who expected dinner on the table and clean clothes in his wardrobe. I typed building extension reports for a lecherous boss whose wife I picked out Christmas presents for. Any fantasies I had mainly involved someone else cooking my dinner and no alarm going off in the morning."
Whoa. Where did all of that come from? And how wildly inappropriate, given her state of undress.
"And you have to ask me why I'm anti-marriage?" Lucien arched his eyebrow.
Sophie huffed softly. She'd walked right into that one.
"Anyway, that's my truthful answer."
He shook his head, probably shocked by her provincial dullness.
"We need to work on that, Ms. Black. Come on over here so I can take off your bra."
"You haven't won the round yet."
He rolled his eyes and then dealt out two cards, turning first hers and then his own, scowling at her delighted laugh. Tequila was the best drink in the world. Even though she was sitting there in next to nothing, she was able to draw competitive joy from winning.
"You lose, Mr. Knight."
He rolled his shoulders with a decidedly bored look on his face. "I’m going to make this really easy."
He stood and unfastened his trousers, sliding them off along with everything else except for his black Calvin Cleins.
Dear God. If he ever wanted to try his hand at male modelling, agencies would be fighting in the streets for him. One shot of him like this and women would queue to buy anything he was selling.
He sat back down and looked at her expectantly.
"Now will you come over here?"
"You can't take off my bra unless I lose."
"Get over here."
"But I haven't asked my question yet."
"Sophie..." Lucien's voice dropped to a warning growl, far too sexy to resist, and Sophie made her way over to him and let him tug her down sideways into his lap.
He was warm and solid beneath her curves and his erection pressed pleasurably against her bottom as she curled up and made herself comfortable.