by Josie Litton
Something to think about later. Just then all he could do was make it as good for her as possible even as he succumbed to the roar of pleasure building in him.
“Touch yourself,” he murmured. “Play with your clit.”
She gasped again as she did so. Moving with her and within her, he was struck by how in sync they were. Their bodies seemed to know each another in ways he could not explain.
Nor could he try to do so for just then her orgasm overcame her and triggered his own. He filled her ass with his come, only just managing to hold them both upright.
When the storm had finally passed, they stayed as they were, the water flowing over them. Lucius looked down at her, parting the cheeks of her lovely ass and watching as his come seeped from her.
Despite his intense physical satiation, he could not honestly say that he had achieved his goal of regaining the upper hand with Natalia. It seemed that was going to take a good deal more effort.
Of course, he would succeed in the end. It was inconceivable that she could get the better of him.
Reassuring himself on that score, he drew her from the shower, wrapped her in a warmed, fluffy towel and gently set about drying her from head to toe.
Chapter Twenty-three
“Try the salmon,” Natalia said softly. “It’s delicious.”
Lucius took a slice, twirled it around his fork, dipped it in the creamy dill sauce and popped it into his mouth.
Moments later, he said, “You’re right, that is good.”
They were enjoying what was either a very late supper or a pre-dawn breakfast in front of the fireplace in his bedroom. It was just cool enough for the fire to have been lit. Champagne glistened in golden flutes. Music played softly in the background--Debussy, Natalia thought.
It was all quite far removed from anything she could have imagined in the context of this man and her own mission. Yet it felt completely right.
After the events in the shower, they seemed to have called a truce, at least temporarily. For the moment, she was content to simply be in his company. Not that she wouldn’t take any opportunity to try to decipher the mystery that was Lucius Belmont. Having not merely survived but quite stunningly enjoyed an experience she would never previously have imagined consenting to, she was feeling rather pleased with herself. Who was to say what she might accomplish with a bit more effort?
Snuggled in the oversized terry robe he had put her in before they left the bathroom, she tried to ignore a pang of regret that they weren’t just lovers sharing a romantic interlude. She couldn’t remember anyone looking after her as he had--bathing her, drying her hair so carefully, swathing her in comfort. Surely, her mother had done so when she was a little child but that lady’s death had occurred so long ago that Natalia had only faint memories of her.
Rather than dwell on past sorrows, she studied Lucius over the rim of her glass. He was in a robe that matched her own except that his fit his powerful frame perfectly. She thought of the extraordinary beauty of his body that she had seen for the first time and found herself wishing that he had remained unclothed. Imagining his broad shoulders and chest, sculpted thighs and ass burnished by firelight, she took a hasty swallow of her wine.
Her hand shook just a little as she set the glass aside. Before she could stop herself, she asked, “Have you done this before? Bought a virgin at your own auction, I mean.”
Not that it mattered. He could have done it a dozen times and she would have no reason to care. No reason at all…
Lucius, on the other hand, appeared shocked by the mere notion. “Good lord, no. It would never have occurred to me. Nor, if I may anticipate your next question, have I ever participated in any practice sessions before now.”
A flush of pleasure went through her. She tried to ignore it and failed. “Why this time? Why me?”
He smiled faintly. “Are you fishing for compliments, Miss Bollinger?”
“Not in the least,” she huffed. “I’m simply trying to understand your motives.”
“Are they really so obscure? You’re a very beautiful woman. I find myself drawn to you.”
Natalia frowned. She had the dual impression that he was being at once truthful yet evasive. Telling her part of why he had done as he had but not the whole of it.
She had used that technique herself a time or two, and had to admit that he did it very well.
Trying a different tack, she said, “How do you come to have a Chinese foster father?”
He drew the champagne bottle from the cooler and held it out to refill her flute before replacing it back in the melting ice.
Without preamble, he said, “My biological father was Zhao Feng’s accountant. One evening, gunmen working for a rival triad interrupted them while they were having dinner at a restaurant on the Bund in Shanghai. Fortunately, the place had been cleared out to accommodate them or the death toll would have been much higher.”
Natalia’s throat tightened. “What happened?”
“My father, in an act that I am sure surprised him as much as everyone else, threw himself in front of his employer and was shot multiple times. He died in Zhao Feng’s arms. As my mother had committed the unpardonable cliché of running off with her French lover the previous year, I was left without family. Zhao Feng took me in. He’s the only father I’ve ever really known.”
Carefully, so as not to reveal the extent of her own research into him, Natalia said, “Do many people know this?” She certainly had not uncovered it.
He laughed. “Hardly. Ask anyone and they will tell you that I am the bastard son of some British lord or other. I grew up in England or the Americas or most definitely somewhere. I attended Oxford or did not but in either case I was caught in flagrante with the wife or the daughter of someone or other. With just the slightest encouragement, or none at all, it goes on and on. Truly, gossip is our foremost national industry.”
“Don’t you mind people saying such things about you?”
Lucius shrugged. “Why would I? It amuses me to keep them guessing.”
He was refilling her champagne flute when she asked, “Is all that about Zhao Feng just another story?”
“No,” he said. “That’s the truth. I’m damn grateful to the man even if we have had our differences.”
“Such as--”
“When I was fifteen, he let me know that he wanted me to study law here in England. I had other interests.”
“What were those?”
“There were only two that I can recall--girls and martial arts, the second even more than the first. But not to worry. Zhao Feng sent his eldest son by one of his Chinese concubines to Oxford instead. Zhao Jian has done very well. We’re all very proud of him.”
She thought that over, absorbing the fact that he was on good terms with the family the world did not know he had. What must that be like? After her mother’s death, there had only been herself, Naomi, and their father. With him gone and Naomi vanished, she felt sometimes as though she stood alone over a great void into which she inevitably must fall.
Loneliness was, she had long since realized, an affliction of the soul. Lucius had weakened her defenses against it but she was still determined not to succumb.
“So how did you end up founding the Odalisque?” she asked.
He traced a finger over the curve of her cheek and the fullness of her mouth. The heat in his eyes made it impossible for her to look away.
“You’re a curious little thing, aren’t you?” he murmured. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll answer your questions and in return you’ll answer mine, agreed?”
Just then, Natalia very much feared that she would have agreed to anything he asked. She had to remind herself that while honesty was a wonderful quality for those who could afford it, she could not.
Even so, it was with some difficulty that she said, “That sounds fair.”
Lucius nodded as though she had committed herself when in fact she had not. She thought that a curious slip for a man of such obviously keen
perception. Yet that was forgotten in the next moment as he went on.
“In what turned out to be my final cage match, I bet on myself heavily to win. One of those who bet against me couldn’t pay up. The only asset he had was a run-down brothel on the Shanghai waterfront. I took it over and in a year it was the most popular private club in the city for Chinese and foreigners alike. What I learned doing that became the foundation of the Odalisque.”
“How did Zhao Feng feel about that?”
“He didn’t know what to make of it initially but he trusted me to do well and I haven’t disappointed him.”
Natalia couldn’t help but wonder if her father would feel the same about the course her own life had taken. As much as she wanted to believe that he would, in her heart she knew otherwise.
Something of her thoughts must have been evident. “You’ve gone quite pale,” Lucius said. “What’s wrong?”
Too quickly, she said, “Nothing. The late hour…”
He frowned. She met his gaze and wondered why he wasn’t pressing her with questions of his own. If he did so, she truly did not know how just then she would evade them. Surely, he would sense her weakness and use it against her.
But he surprised her. After a moment, Lucius stood and drew her up with him. Softly, he said, “You look done in. We’ll talk again in the morning.”
She could only nod as he led her to his bed, shrugging off his robe before removing hers, and drawing her done to lie wrapped in the safety of his arms.
Chapter Twenty-four
Never before in his life had Lucius failed to take advantage of an opponent’s weakness. He hadn’t done it in a match or anywhere else. Much of his success was owed to his willingness to push harder, longer and more purposefully than virtually anyone else.
With Natalia, none of that had mattered.
Waking in his bed, his first thought was that she wasn’t there. The alchemy of fear and panic jolted him upright. His heart was pounding before he heard the sound of water splashing in the bathroom.
Naked, he strode through early morning light and pushed the door open.
She was in the tub.
Bared, rosy, her hair swept up on the top of her head with just a few tendrils drifting to her shoulders. The swell of her glorious breasts rose above the water.
Relief flooded him. For a long moment, he was content to simply stand there and look at her.
That ended when she turned her head slightly and saw him. At once, her eyes widened.
Ruefully, he supposed that had something to do with his usual state of morning arousal. He might be all at sea where she was concerned but that made no difference to his cock. It thrust out boldly in her direction like some damned homing beacon.
“Move over,” he said gruffly and lowered himself into the tub behind her. When he had settled, he wrapped his arms around her and leaned her back against his chest.
“You’re up early,” he said.
She had stiffened at his touch but that didn’t last. He felt her resistance ebb and smiled.
Softly, she confessed, “I couldn’t sleep.”
His pride stung just a little. He’d lost count of how many orgasms he’d given her but apparently not enough to wear her out.
Or perhaps she’d simply been too anxious about what he would demand she tell him.
She wasn’t alone. Once he broke her down and get her to tell him the truth, he didn’t like to think what he would have to do. A part of him preferred to postpone that reckoning.
He wanted more time with her. All the time he couldn’t possibly get. But the clock was ticking. Adrian wouldn’t wait forever.
Regret filled him. Slowly, he nuzzled her neck and slipped a hand between her thighs.
“Shhh, baby,” he said when she stiffened, “just lie here. All you have to do is feel.”
Her nipples, rising above the water, were hard little buds he longed to suck. Her hips, moving against his erection, were a torment he would happily have endured forever. Best was the curling of her toes as he stroked her, parting her lips, circling just one finger around her swelling clit, letting her build---
Abruptly, her back arched and she cried out.
Damn, the woman was responsive. He had to wonder just how many times he really could make her come. Probably more than he himself could endure. If he didn’t have her soon--
Without warning, she turned over and faced him, kneeling between his thighs. Her warm, wet hands stroked his straining cock. Smiling, she held his eyes as she lowered her head and flicked just the tip of her tongue over his swollen crest.
“Natalia…!”
“I want you inside me.”
She spoke so softly that he wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly. Or perhaps it was the rush of blood in his ears as his heart pounded.
Thickly, he asked, “Like before?”
Blushing, she shook her head. “No, the other.”
The sexiest, most passionate woman on the planet and she couldn’t bring herself to use any of the many, varied and highly descriptive words available for the act she wanted him to perform. With her.
“Why me?” he asked. “And for god’s sake, don’t mention the damn auction.”
“It has nothing to do with that. I just…want to be with you. Now, while we can, before the world intrudes.”
The sadness in her voice felt like the hollow echo of thunder rolling through him. It banished every other consideration.
Lucius rose from the bath in a single motion, gathering Natalia up in his arms. Having paused only long enough to grab a couple of large, thick towels, he carried her to the bed. They were both soaking wet but he was beyond caring. Nothing mattered except the woman whose arms stayed around his neck as he laid her down, her legs opened to him, her body straining for his.
Sweat beaded on his forehead as he forced himself to go slowly. Never mind what secrets she was keeping, she deserved everything he could do to make this right for her. His hands wrapped around her wrists, holding her arms firmly at her sides. His thigh nudged between hers. He slid down her body, smiling to find her already so wet and glistening for him.
At the first touch of his tongue against her clit, Natalia moaned and tried to free her hands. He was having none of that. Holding her firmly, he unleashed all his skills and was rewarded when her breathy cries turned to ecstatic moans. By the time he had tasted her fully, she was once again in the throes of release, her entire body shaking with the force of her orgasm.
In the midst of it, he climbed up her, transferring both her hands to one of his and stretching her arms out above her head. With his free hand, he guided his cock to her entrance.
Slowly, he mind screamed. The best he could tell himself afterward was that he truly did try but his need for her was overwhelming. When her hips arched in welcome, he stopped fighting the burning demands of his own body. With one swift thrust, he pierced the barrier of her virginity and claimed her completely.
Even then, he struggled to hold himself still and let her become accustomed to him. Natalia wouldn’t allow it. Gazing up at him with mingled innocence and calculation, she deliberately clenched her inner muscles in a caress that proved his undoing.
The sensation of being so tightly and perfectly held was more than he could bear. Letting go of her wrists, he rose above her, his hips driving hard and fast.
They came together in a shattering climax that left him clinging to her, spent as he never before been yet in her arms filled with a sense of power beyond any he had ever experienced.
That redoubled when, as he recalled himself just enough to begin moving from her, she tightened her embrace.
Softly, on a breath of sound, Natalia whispered, “Stay inside me.”
Joy pierced his heart. With the last of his strength, he drew her to him, twined his limbs with hers and gave up every thought save for the woman he could not bear to let come to any harm.
Chapter Twenty-five
Four men were in front of the building. La
rge men, calm and alert. Their presence made it reasonable to assume that more were around the back.
Watching them from where he stood at the bedroom window, Lucius frowned. Adrian was pushing against the bonds of friendship. Yet he could hardly be blamed. His duty was clear; it was Lucius’ own that had shifted.
Returning to the bed, he gazed down at Natalia. She was still deeply asleep, her cheeks flushed and her soft, delectable lips slightly parted. The sheet had slipped down to the curve of her hips, baring her exquisite breasts and the indentation of her navel. She looked young and achingly vulnerable.
Lucius hesitated. He knew what he wanted to do--get back into bed and lose himself in her. But they were running out of time; Adrian couldn’t be expected to wait forever. The truth was that had it been most anyone other than himself involved, Natalia would have long since been in custody.
Her stubbornness was infuriating. He’d revealed more about himself to her than he had ever done with almost anyone else alive. And she had rewarded him by prevaricating--if not outrightly lying--and then so thoroughly distracting him that he forgot even to be angry at her.
But he was now, the longer he stood looking down at her, thinking of how foolishly reckless she was being with herself. Beneath that, rushing up at him, came the true question he had to confront--why wouldn’t she trust him?
Just because he ran a world-renowned chain of sex clubs, had a father who was a crime lord, and might on occasion skirt the exact letter of the law? Granted, he was something of a loner--if nothing else, the year of celibacy showed that. But he was also a conscientious employer, a good friend and a loyal subject of the Crown, willing to put himself at risk for the benefit of King and Country.
Whereas she was a tissue of lies and misdirection, a girl from Bournemouth who didn’t exist, a scaler of roof tops, stealer of passwords and, if he was going to be entirely honest with himself, of hearts. She was beautiful, daring and clearly very determined. But to do what? And why?
