Knight And Play

by Kitty French

  “That’s a mighty fine view, Ms.Black.”

  He was behind her and kissing the cheeks of her ass in seconds, his mouth hot and his tongue wet as it trailed around the butt plug. Sophie sucked in air as she heard the tell-tale rip of foil, and his fingers moved forwards to caress between her legs. Yes, God, yes. She was open and desperate for him, and she cried out with pleasure when he finally pushed himself inside her. Slow and easy, he instinctively took his time as he introduced her to yet another new experience, and any lingering fear melted away as the incredible sensations took over. Jesus. He pulled back slowly, and then rocked into her until his hips touched her body. He was so deep inside that she could feel his cock push against the butt plug. Ecstasy had her trembling, instantly on the edge of coming again, closer with every satisfying thud of Lucien's body into hers.

  His fingers were everywhere... putting gentle pressure on the plug in rhythm with each plunge of his cock... stroking her clitoris, making her whimper with the need for release... tightening in her hair as he neared orgasm himself and banged her harder, faster. Sophie's orgasm began in her fingertips and toes, violent volts of pleasure so intense that she physically jolted and screamed out as it engulfed her. Lucien wound her hair around his hand and pulled her head back, and she slammed herself harder onto his pumping cock until his orgasm ripped out of him; long, pulsating and powerful.

  Sophie sagged down onto the sofa, exhausted, Lucien's hands gentle now on her hips. He eased out of her as her breathing slowed, then pulled her up with him onto the pillowy depths of the sofa. She was boneless, spent - half way to sleep already, as he tucked her into the crook of his arm and tugged a fur throw off the back of the sofa to nestle around them. It was utter bliss. She sank into the warm circle of his arms and closed her eyes.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Darkness had fallen when Sophie opened her eyes again, and firelight filled the room with dancing golden shadows. She was incredibly comfortable, cocooned in fur, and a small but delicious stretch confirmed that the acorn was still tucked inside her. Where was Lucien? She propped herself up on one elbow and glanced around the empty room. Their clothes were still on the floor, and the little glass bottle of neroli oil sat on the coffee table. A crumb trail to the most sensational sex of her life, right there.

  The door opened and Lucien appeared with two steaming mugs in his hands.

  "I was just about to wake you. Do you always sleep so soundly after sex?"

  Sophie pulled herself up to sitting and tucked the blanket underneath her armpits. The hot mug Lucien handed her was topped with cream and chocolate shavings, and delicious wafts of alcohol-laced hot chocolate filled her nostrils.

  "You exhausted me." She dipped her finger into the cream and sucked it.

  "Naturally," Lucien shrugged.

  He was wearing his battered jeans and nothing else, and Sophie admired the way the firelight enhanced the lean muscles across his shoulders.

  Why her? He was a man who could take his pick, so quite why he had zeroed in on her was a mystery she wasn't brave enough to try to solve. Was it just that she had wandered into his main beam? The idea that whoever had landed the job as his PA would be here right now flitted into her mind, but she dismissed it. Whatever else Lucien might be, he didn't seem the kind of guy to just fuck for the sake of it. For pleasure, certainly, but just because there was a woman around him whom he hadn't had yet? No. She wasn't harbouring romantic hopes or feelings of love, but they had an undeniable connection that was more than just physical.

  Sex with Lucien was... immersion. She felt saturated in him, drenched to the skin with lust whenever he touched her. He was touching her now, massaging her ankle as he sat down on the end of the sofa with his mug in his hand. Sophie sipped her steaming chocolate and watched the fire.

  When his hand moved a little higher to rub her calf muscle, she stretched her leg out onto his lap.

  "Thank you," she said, softly.

  Lucien turned to study her.

  "For what?"

  She inclined her head, encompassing the room, the moment, the setting beyond the dark windows.

  "For this. For here."

  Lucien stroked the tender skin at the back of her knee.

  "It's my pleasure. And yours too, if I’m not mistaken."

  She sipped her chocolate, the brandy in it strong and fortifying.

  "I've never known pleasure like this."

  "Good." He nodded. "As it should be." His eyes didn't meet hers as he massaged her knee absently, and for a few quiet minutes he seemed a world away. "Drink up. There's something you should see."

  Sophie stood on the deck overlooking the fjord, her head tipped back to the skies in wonder. Wrapped in the fur blanket to protect her from the cold air, the only thing she noticed was the astral majesty overhead.

  The dark night sky was alive with magical streaks of colour. Ethereal white wisps sprinkled with pink glitter swirled around luminous green ghost dancers, great streaks of light that bubbled and rolled as if being stirred from above by an invisible witch. It was easily the most stunning thing Sophie had ever seen.

  "Wow," she whispered. It was inadequate, but the sight left her almost speechless. "Wow."

  "Pretty special, huh?"

  Sophie wanted to answer him, but found she couldn't. Standing there beneath nature's glorious slideshow, words failed her. This world was so far from her own, a bigger, better place where unfaithful husbands and broken marriages didn't matter. These vast, rolling skies reached out and touched her heart, performing their graceful dance just for her. She didn't realise that there were tears on her face until she tasted salt on her lips. Finally, she turned to Lucien behind her.

  "Is it always like this?"

  He shook his head. "This is quite early in the year for us. The nights are drawing in fast here now, we only see the Aurora in the colder months."

  Sophie looked up again, eager to see more, then looked back down as a whirring noise started up behind her. The previously still waters of the jacuzzi had fizzed into life, the warm, steaming bubbles lit by underwater illuminations reminiscent of the skies above. Lucien stood beside it, a bottle of champagne and two glasses in his spread hands.

  It was an invitation that no woman could refuse. A beautiful man, and a warm jacuzzi beneath skies painted with an ever-changing palette by Mother Nature’s paintbrush. Already bathed in a heady sense of liberation, Sophie let the fur blanket fall to the floor and walked across the deck towards him.

  Lucien watched Sophie cross towards him, naked and free, perfectly framed by the mountains and the neon-flashed skies behind her. She reminded him of a mystical nymph, as if she'd just walked out of the waters of the fjord and onto his deck. A living fantasy.

  She had no inkling of how glorious she was - and how much more so now that she had shaken off the grey shroud of unhappiness that she'd worn around her shoulders like an invisible cloak the first time she'd walked into his office.

  He had her for one more day, and he was going to make every second count.

  Sophie sank into the heavenly bubbles as Lucien stripped off his jeans. He looked so perfectly at home in the nude, it was his default setting. She settled onto the dipped seat beneath the water, reminded again of the butt plug’s presence as it moved a little deeper inside her. She fidgeted, enjoying the dark new sensation of fullness, the way it pressed against the back of her vagina. It was no-hands foreplay, made all the more sexy by the fact that the look in Lucien’s perceptive eyes told her that he knew exactly what she was feeling. As the tingle of sexual excitement began again, Sophie marvelled at how her body continually craved more of this man. He made her insatiable.

  “So, tell me. What do you think of the acorn?”

  His fingers slid lightly over the back of Sophie’s neck as he settled into the warmth of the water alongside her.

  Sophie wriggled in her seat, hyper-aware of his touch and the warm jets of water bubbling underneath her. When she moved, it sprayed directl
y between her thighs, and she couldn’t help but spread her legs a little. It felt so damn good, like a secret, intimate massage. She moved again and the water pummelled her clitoris. Lucien licked her ear, his fingers playing idly with her stiff nipples.

  His open mouth slid down her neck. “Just let it happen.”

  Sophie closed her eyes as Lucien stretched behind her and powered up the intensity of the jets. Jesus. The anticipation of her climax tightened her body. She dropped her head back on Lucien’s arm, enjoying his hands over her breasts as she built towards the release only an orgasm could give her.

  She rocked her body in the seat, restlessly searching for enough intensity to push her over the edge. The butt plug moved inside her, a sexy fullness that was all the more delicious for still being unfamiliar.

  Lucien met her gaze and held it, then ran his tongue over his slightly parted lips. It was all it took. Sophie moaned softly as she came hard and fast, ecstasy all the more intense for sharing it eye to eye with Lucien. He moved in close and kissed her, slow and open mouthed as her body softened from taut to relaxed in his arms.

  Sophie closed her eyes and surrendered to the sensations. The ripples and bubbles of the warm water. The stroke of Lucien’s tongue in her mouth, and the rhythmic pressure of his thumb, back and forth over her ribcage. The feeling of her hammering heart slowing in her chest as her body settled against his. The kaleidoscope skies that would be there when she opened her eyes and looked up. It was a fairy tale, albeit a very grown up one. A fantasy, maybe. Not real life, anyway. Sophie couldn’t imagine how her old life could possibly still be waiting for her in the UK, a comfortable pair of slippers compared to the sexy stiletto lifestyle she’d led at Lucien’s side this past week.

  Much as she didn’t want them to, the bony fingers of reality poked at her, sharp digs that made her sigh heavily. She opened her eyes and found him watching her.

  “What am I doing here, Lucien? I don’t recognise my own life any more.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  Sophie twisted her damp hair into a rope over one shoulder. “This week has been…” She cast around for the words to sum up what a cataclysmic shift the past week had been for her. “It’s been amazing, but I have to go home and face reality on Sunday.”

  Lucien twirled the coil of her hair around his own hand.

  “You do. But at least you know that there are other options now.”

  “Are there, really?” She searched his open expression for answers. “How can I carry on working for you after this?” She gazed around at the celestial beauty overhead, and the shadowy mountain ranges. “This is your world, Lucien. It’s real to you. For me, it’s a one week fantasy.”

  “Only if you want it to be. I still need a PA, Sophie, and you’re shaping up to be pretty good at it.”

  “I’ve barely done any work,” she pointed out softly.

  “On the contrary. You’ve exceeded my expectations by quite some way.” Lucien’s eyes glinted with amusement at her as he uncorked the champagne and poured it.

  “Was this always your plan?” she asked. “Did you employ me because you saw me as a bored wife ready to stray?”

  He laughed low in his throat and laid his head back on the ledge of the jacuzzi, his eyes on the moving skies.

  “No. I employed you because you kiss envelopes before you mail them, and because you surprised me.” He paused and closed his eyes. “I like people who surprise me.”

  Sophie frowned at his profile, aware that she knew practically nothing about this enigmatic man. With his eyes hidden and his head tipped back, he looked thoroughly relaxed, at one with his surroundings. But then again, that wasn’t all that surprising if her hunch about him was right.

  “Why Norway, Lucien?” Her fingertips trailed over the defined curve of his shoulder as she sipped her champagne.

  “Why not here? I like the privacy.” The imperceptible tightening of his jaw belied the lightness of his tone.

  “It is gorgeous,” Sophie murmured. “But is there more to it than that?”

  “What are you asking, Sophie?” Lucien opened his eyes and met her direct gaze.

  “Is this place home for you? I mean… did you grow up here?”

  Lucien took a long drink from his champagne flute then placed it down with deliberate care.

  “I left Norway on my eighteenth birthday. London is my home now.”

  Sophie wished he’d look at her, but his eyes were trained on the scrolling skies. She’d already sensed that this place, this country - both were integral to the man he was, but she couldn’t work out his feelings for it. He had this beautiful home here, so surely he had to be fond of it, yet there was a toughness to his stance and a steel to the set of his jaw that suggested otherwise.

  “Do you miss it when you’re in the UK?” Sophie assumed he must. It was way too beautiful not to.

  Lucien reached for the champagne bottle. “I didn’t, not for a long time.”

  “So what changed?”

  “I did, I suppose.” He shrugged non-committally. “I grew up.”

  “So I guess you must have family here? Parents, brothers and sisters…will you visit them while you’re here?” She trailed off uncertainly, aware that she was pushing him for information he wasn’t necessarily willing to share.

  “No. This visit was only ever about fucking you.”

  Sophie shook her head and laughed lightly, despite the fact that he was blatantly trying to throw the conversation off course.

  “We could have done that back home.”

  “Yes, but here you can’t escape me.”

  “Who said I’d want to?”

  “I do. You’re still that good girl deep down, Sophie. Home would have pulled you back to it every moment. Here you’re free to be the person you want to be, the amazing woman you can be.”

  Sophie nodded slowly. His reasoning was sound. Being here had severed her attachments to home - at least for the present - and absence had not made her heart grow fonder.

  “It’s all still there waiting for me though.” She sighed heavily. “What am I going to do about everything, Lucien?”

  “What do you want to do?”

  Sophie exhaled slowly and shook her head, her mind far away in the UK.

  “I don’t know. I have to talk to Dan I guess, about his affair, and now about my affair.”

  Lucien’s mouth twisted to one side. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking you are the same as he is, Sophie. If he’d been a real husband, you wouldn’t be here now.”

  “How can you know that?”

  “Because you’re soft, and kind, and good. All the things he isn’t.”

  Sophie registered each compliment, but she didn’t feel any of those things. She was an adulterous cheat, every bit as much as Dan.

  “You don’t know him, Lucien… he’s not a bad person.”

  Lucien shrugged. “I don’t need to know him to understand him.”

  Sophie reached for her glass and swallowed a big gulp of champagne, but the sparkling wine and dazzling views couldn’t calm the swirl of emotions inside her.

  Lucien looked at Sophie’s profile, at the dejected set of her mouth, and that same dull, haunted expression in her eyes that he’d seen the first time he’d met her.

  Just talking about her husband had been enough to instantly paint shadows on her face.

  What was seeing him again going to do?

  What was hearing his confession of an affair spanning more than two years going to do?

  The only thing he wanted to do right at that moment was put the sparkle back in her eyes.

  He reached out and topped up her glass, then slipped under the bubbling water and resurfaced on his knees face to face with her.

  “I think it’s time I removed that acorn for you.”

  Unshed tears still glittered on her eyelashes, but a trembling laugh bubbled from her throat at the broken tension. He could see her turmoil, and he could feel her fear, and he just wanted to m
ake her stronger, tougher and ready to fight. If it was up to him, he’d have had her husband taken care of, one way or another, and be done with it – and he could have made it happen - but he knew that that wasn’t the type of resolution Sophie wanted.

  Her nipples bobbed rosy and pert in front of him, and he dipped his head to take one into his mouth. Christ, she was sexy. He rolled his tongue around the pink nub, enjoying her gratified moan when he closed his lips over it and sucked. His cock stiffened as her nipple turned to rock in his mouth, taut and straining for more attention from his flickering tongue.

  When he glanced up, he found her eyes closed, damp tears on her cheeks and her lower lip snagged behind her teeth. She looked trapped somewhere between rapture and despair, and he needed to tip the scales in the right direction.

  He moved up her body and covered her mouth with his own, a slow kiss designed to chase the lingering demons from her mind. From the way her tongue responded to his and her hands crept into his hair, he knew he’d succeeded. She arched into him now, her breasts against his chest, his cock between her legs.

  It was all about her. About making her feel wanted, about making her eyes shine with satisfaction instead of tears.

  When she rocked her hips forwards and invited him inside, Lucien accepted without thought or question. He cradled her body in his arms and thrust slowly, feeling her tightness enfold every inch of him.

  She closed her eyes, and he kissed them.

  Sophie’s body flowed around him like silk, and it didn’t feel like fucking. It felt like connecting, and soothing, and like other feelings that he didn’t care to give a name to. He slipped his arms around her body under the water as he sensed the beginnings of her orgasm, and as she came he stood and thrust hard, his deft fingers massaging the acorn inside her.