Lucien ran a finger beneath one of Sophie's bra straps. "It's almost a shame to take this off." He eased one strap down and then the other. "I like it." His hands moved around her body to open the clasp, and Sophie suddenly didn’t care in the least about fair play. Having him peel off her underwear was screamingly sexy.
They both looked down as he cupped her breasts in his hands, circling her nipples with the pads of his thumbs.
"I'm ready for your question now." He looked up into her eyes, no doubt fully aware that there was very little chance that she'd be able to string a coherent sentence together at that moment. She cast around in her lust-addled mind, badly wanting to prove him wrong.
"Why don't you have any pets?" she squeaked, then immediately groaned. Where in Gods name had that thought come from, and why, how had it left her mouth? She pressed on regardless. "You know... a dog, or a cat... or a goldfish, maybe?"
He rolled her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.
"Do I look like the sort of man who has time for pets, Sophie?"
She didn't answer, pink-cheeked and more than aware of the weirdness of trying to conduct a conversation about domestic animals whilst sitting on his raging erection.
"I had a dog when I was a kid. A husky."
His quietly spoken words changed the mood abruptly. In her mind’s eye Sophie could clearly see the small blond haired child running across pristine arctic snow, his silvery, wolfish companion barrelling along beside him. It was a joyful image, yet the feeling that accompanied it somehow wasn't, and Lucien's face told her that his memories weren't happy ones either.
She touched his cheek and tilted her head up to his, and he unreservedly accepted the distraction. His tongue slipped into her mouth and kicked up the heat from tender to crazy hot; hungry, open mouthed kisses as his arms locked vice-like around her frame and held her captive. Sophie could feel the swell of him hardening.
"Let me fuck you now?" His fingers moved between her legs, stroking her through thin silk. "Let me fuck you now."
Sophie could hear the need in his voice as much as the want, and it melted her more than ever. She stood and stepped quickly out of her underwear. As he did the same she paused for a second's thought, then added an extra cushion to the seat for height, before sitting down on the deep armchair and spreading her thighs.
"Sit here." She patted the velvet seat-pad between her legs, and he looked quizzical for a moment. "Please?"
Lucien didn't question her, and she was grateful. She wanted to give back to him, to soothe him, to take back her question that had raised unwelcome memories.
He settled back against her with a sigh. The additional cushion had raised her bottom enough for the line of her shoulders to be higher than his, and he massaged her ankles when she wrapped her legs around him.
Sophie revelled in the width of his chest, letting her fingers linger on the tightness of his nipple until he sighed, caught somewhere between relaxed and turned on as he rested his head back against her shoulder.
"Feels good, princess," he murmured, his hips already rocking a little in anticipation of her hands moving lower.
Sophie touched her mouth to his ear. "Maybe this is my sexual fantasy," she said, letting her hands enjoy him. "A Viking sex god at my disposal."
"Would you like me to dress in fur and drag you by the hair?" he murmured, and Sophie kissed the corner of the lazy smile that touched his lips. The idea wasn't anywhere near as much of a turn off as it probably should have been.
She shifted a little to one side of him to give herself easier access to his cock with one hand, brushing her fingers along his thigh, making him wait.
"Show me how you like it," she whispered finally, her teeth on his neck as she curved her hand around his erection. "Show me."
He groaned with appreciation, a guttural sound low in his throat as his hand closed over hers on his shaft and started to move.
"Like this?" she asked, not that she needed to. His pleasure was clear from his shallow breathing and his chewed lip.
His grip was firm around hers, firmer than she might have been singlehandedly, and all the more erotic for it. She watched his face; the low frown of concentration over his closed eyes, the way his lips parted as his hand pumped hers, steady strokes, finding his rhythm. His chest rose and fell sharply, the staccato drumbeat of his heart clear beneath her palm.
"Lucien..." she breathed his name, encouragement to take what he needed. He was close; his shallow gasps of pleasure and tight, jerky hand motions told her so.
His cock glistened between their sliding hands, impossibly rigid and straining.
"Fuck, Sophie...Sophie..." Lucien gasped. "Don't stop..."
He let his hand fall away, trusting her to finish what they'd started.
Over the last few months Lucien had given Sophie so many erotic memories, but this one, holding him completely surrendered in her arms, topped them all. He yelled out her name as he came in strong, frantic bursts, his body juddering with pleasure, his face a study of almost pained effort. Watching him come undone was so deeply intimate, and every jerk of his body slammed him back between her spread legs. She was open and unbelievably aroused when he turned his face to hers.
"I guess I won the game," he said, a little hoarsely, moving in to kiss her lips, making a slow and thorough exploration of her mouth. Sophie's fingers moved in the slickness on his abdomen.
"I don't know. It was a pretty good result for me too," she said.
"Hmm." Lucien moved a little to slide his arm behind him into the warm space between their bodies. His sure fingers sought her clitoris as his tongue licked over hers, concentrated little flicks on her already fevered flesh. Sophie's body burned for him, still wrapped around his torso as he slipped two fingers inside her.
"So fucking sexy..." he whispered. "Here, Sophie?" He massaged in fast little circles.
Sophie opened her legs even wider and dropped her forehead against his shoulder blade. Yes, there. Yes, more. Yes, always. The familiar, unstoppable tingle of her orgasm started beneath his fingers, making her gasp and rub herself against him.
"I've got you, princess. I've got you."
Chapter Twenty-One
Lucien tipped his face up into the powerful spray of the hot shower, eyes closed, his mind on the girl asleep a few feet away in the bedroom. He was thinking hard. Solutions to problems in life and in business usually came effortlessly to him, but this one was proving intractable. They were going back to London the following evening, back to normality. How the hell was he going to play it?