When I’m with You (Because You Are Mine #2)(34)
Author: Beth Kery

“I’m sorry, Lucien. I would never want you to be hurt,” she said in a muffled voice as she tried to control the full feeling in her chest.

“I know that,” he said, his voice like roughened silk. “It’s not me I’m concerned about. It’s you. You are too impulsive at times. All you had to do was ask me for financial assistance.”

“I didn’t think I needed any.”

She felt his fingers on her chin and looked up reluctantly.

“Well, you were wrong, weren’t you?” He looked down at her with a hooded gaze. Her nipples pulled tight against his ribs. “I owe you a punishment for your impulsivity. I also owe you pleasure, for having pleased me so well earlier. Take off all of your clothes, Elise,” he said quietly.

“What?” Her heart paused in its drumming to do a leap. Blood rushed into her cheeks.

“You heard me,” he replied.

He’d done it. He’d made her completely speechless. Her fingers seemed to have gone numb as she began to unloop the rope of pearls from around her neck. What was this feeling that swamped her? Was it shame? No . . . it was shyness. Her—Elise Martin—shy and awkward.

She wouldn’t have thought it a possibility. But it wasn’t just any man.

It was Lucien.

Chapter Six

He’d told himself he wouldn’t be consumed by her fires, but the slow burn began as he watched her remove the looped rope of cultured pearls from around her neck. The pearls interested him. They weren’t an expensive item. In fact, he’d frequently been proud of her during the past week in regard to the fact that she wasn’t flaunting her wealth with expensive jewelry, clothing, and designer handbags. Elise was a very beautiful woman, after all, not to mention the daughter of a renowned fashion designer. She was known for wearing the most expensive clothes in the world like they were her birthright. She’d been staying under the radar, though—as well as a blazing meteor like Elise Martin possibly could.

The belt at her hips came off next. He’d noticed the moment that she approached him earlier this evening that the blue fabric of her dress emphasized her flawless, pale skin and sapphire eyes. Beneath the dress, she wore a matching pair of silk panties and bra. Her dress had fallen off her shoulder earlier when she’d been dancing so outrageously with Caden. He’d seen that the strap of the bra perfectly matched the color of her dress as she’d gyrated her hips, her gaze directly on him—daring him.

Arousal and irritation spiked through him at the memory.

She was petite, but built for sin. Her waist was so tiny, he would likely come near to encompassing it with his opened hands. She was far from slight, though. The curve from her waist to her round hips taunted a man’s hand, tempted him to touch smooth, satiny stretches of skin. Just looking at the pale expanse of her taut belly and the juncture between shapely thighs made him hard and heavy—ready from a glance. Her breasts were full for her petite figure. He’d idly wondered if they’d been enhanced before, but somehow he doubted it. Elise’s mother had been a screen goddess and praised for her hourglass figure. Despite her more compact size, Elise shared a lot of her mother’s looks. She was Madeline Martin’s beauty distilled and perfected.

Another reason Madeline had envied her daughter.

“Take off the bra. I’ll remove the panties,” he told her gruffly.

His breath burned in his lungs as she unfastened the rear hook and her breasts spilled out of the cups. His cock lurched against his boxer briefs.

No. Most definitely the real thing.

Her lithesome arms fell to her sides, leaving her high, pink-tipped breasts exposed. Her eyes were still downcast. It was so strange to see her in anything remotely resembling a submissive pose. Unusual . . . and extremely arousing.

He closed his eyes briefly, blocking himself from the potent vision of her, and turned his attention to the grungy room where she’d been living. His mouth tightened when he again took note of the bars on the windows. He stepped over to the dresser and picked up the long-handled silver and enamel hairbrush he’d seen there earlier.

“Pick up your pearls and come over here,” he said, waving toward the end of the sagging double bed. It was made. He’d give her this—she’d kept the room as neat and clean as she possibly could. Again, his heart squeezed in his chest at the thought of this gem of a woman living in such squalor.

He sat at the edge of the bed, making the springs squeak in protest. He noticed she still hadn’t moved and was looking in turn at him, the hairbrush in his hand, and the heap of pearls she’d set on the desk.

“I’ll tell you what I’m going to do with them. Bring them here.” She scooped up the pearls and approached him, her gaze flickering from his face to his lap. His cock twitched as if she’d touched him.

He did his best to ignore the flagrant display of naked beauty just inches away from fingers that were itching to touch. He set down the hairbrush and held out his hands. She blinked, realizing what he wanted, and handed him the pearls.

“These pearls are valuable to you personally,” he stated rather than asked as he held the creamy, heavy gems in his hands. She blanched.

“How did you know that?” she asked.

“Because while they are lovely, they’re cultured and irregular in shape. You said the watch was the least valuable thing you could offer, but these”—he held up the pearls—“were a hundred times cheaper. More so.”

“Don’t call them cheap.”

“I’m not casting aspersions on your pearls. I’m just pointing out, the cabdriver would have likely prized their value over the watch. It would have made more sense to offer them. Who gave you the pearls?”

He saw the mini-revolt spark in her beautiful eyes and something else . . . something he didn’t like. “That’s none of your business.”

He examined her closely for several seconds, but she revealed nothing more. Anger flickered in him at her show of defiance. So did something else. Jealousy.

“I’m going to bind your wrists. Go like this.” He held out his arms and put his wrists together, palms facing inward. For a split second, he saw panic flash across her beautiful face. Despite the outlandish reports of her sexual antics, this was not a woman used to being bound.

“What are you going to do after that?” she asked suspiciously.

“I told you earlier I owed you a punishment for teasing me the way you did. Now you’re going to get something extra for living in this hellhole and putting yourself at risk.” His eyelids narrowed when he saw her confusion . . . her desire. “Is there something you want to ask me?”