I thought about it, though. I thought about the story I was going to write, the book I'd starting writing that very day. I remembered one of the lines I'd written, one that I liked very much.
I wasn't even sure how he could be so... everything.
That was Lucent in a nutshell, at least to me. He was dominant and commanding, powerful and enigmatic, yet also caring and protective, intimate and close. He was mine, my everything, and I wanted to be his. I was his, but I knew I wasn't everything. I wasn't commanding or powerful or enigmatic, or a lot of other strong words, either. I didn't know if that mattered, though. I was young, right? I could do a lot of things, could be a lot of things, and I hoped for that every day.
Trying to move out of my comfort zone a little and come out of my shell, I walked through the room, attempting to mix and mingle. People talked and chatted about this or that, and I stepped around, close or not, this way and that. I smiled and a few people I'd met earlier smiled back, but I didn't know how to join conversations. I just moved around, stopping now and again, trying to act regular, but having no idea what regular even was.
I didn't know how, but I ended up at the large double doorway to the ballroom. It was wide open, allowing easy entry or escape. Most everyone was in the larger room, with no one in the halls. I knew it was strange to think it, but the hallway seemed a lot more enticing because of that. Also, paintings and other works of art hung on the walls or rested on podiums near the windows. Not everywhere in the Landseer mansion looked as fanciful and rich as the halls and the ballroom, but a lot of the main areas on the first floor did.
There was a beautiful library nearby, too, that looked like it belonged in a book or a movie. Jessika and I had meetings there sometimes on the weekend, just for fun. They were supposed to be about business, but we mostly talked about books and sat in the beautiful library, enjoying ourselves. I hadn't really been on the upper floors much, but they looked a lot more regular compared to the downstairs. Or, at least as regular as a place with a whole lot of bedrooms, a den, a game room, a smoking room, and all sorts of other rooms that might or might not have proper names could look.
I stepped into the hallway, moving to admire one of the paintings on the wall. I knew nothing of paintings, except that I thought people were probably supposed to look at them, nod their approval, maybe hum and haw, then move on. That's how it seemed to work in art galleries, at least.
So I did that, and moved on to the... next...
Except I couldn't look, nod, and hum and haw at this one, nor could I move on. Oh God, this wasn't even a painting, it was a canvas art print of a lilac. It looked mostly regular, just a lilac, except the style was different and the outer fringes of the image had the telltale signs of something more. I doubted almost anyone else would have noticed, but I did.
I noticed because I was the picture and Lucent was the artist. Some time ago, he'd used melted wax from a soy candle to paint a picture across my nude and oiled body. I stared at the picture, transfixed. It was slightly difficult to make out, but I could spot my navel near the lower part of the canvas, filled with colored wax. The outer edge of the picture outlined my figure, leaving the curves of my sides on open display. Thankfully Lucent or whomever had cropped the image to keep most of my nudity a secret, but not entirely. One of my breasts, a hardened nipple peaking atop it, formed the center of a blossoming bunch of sweet purple lilacs.
Unless someone was looking for it, I doubted they'd recognize the background of the image, but I saw it straight away. It intrigued and amazed me. I was art! And... on display... in Asher and Jessika's mansion. Um... I didn't know how I felt about that. Well, it was rather pretty, wasn't it? I did like it. I'd seen this picture before in its entirety, with me laying across a table suitable for massages, with my pubic mound covered in slick brown wax. I looked flushed and heated, and as well I should.
Oh God, it was amazing. I tried not to think about it, but it was impossible. My body shuddered in trembling convulsions, remembering that night. And the other nights. Lucent and I did a lot of wax things. Maybe not a lot a lot, but we'd done it a few times. This was kind of one of his BDSM things, but not entirely. I liked to think of it more as a Lucent and Elise thing; it was ours.
I saw someone start to pass behind me out of the corner of my eye, but they stopped before going into the ballroom. What should I say or do? Should I even do anything? Yes, hello, do you like this art? It's me, I'm naked, I...
"It's nice, huh?" a man asked. It was Jeremy, Asher's driver.
"I like it," I said, trying not to sound too timid. I felt like if I spoke too loudly, or showed too much praise or indifference towards the image, he'd suddenly recognize me in it. I didn't know how he could, but the idea that he might worried me.
"I guess it's not much of a surprise anymore," Jeremy said, sighing.
What? Um... did he know already? "It's not what you think," I said, scrambling to think of some excuse to give him.
I glanced to the side to see Jeremy eying me, perplexed. "Huh? Oh..." His voice dropped, sounding sullen. "Ha... uh..." His attempt at a laugh fell flat. "I guess you didn't know? I thought you must have since you were looking at it. It's supposed to be a surprise. Lucent asked Asher to hold this here so he could keep it a secret from you. It's supposed to be a present, I guess? I don't know what for."
"Oh," I said. Relief flooded through me and I remembered to breathe again, never realizing I'd stopped in the first place. "Well, it's nice," I added. "That's all. I wasn't looking at it for any other reason. Um... it's just a pretty picture? I won't ruin the surprise. I won't tell Lucent I know. Um..."
Lucent found us, though. Standing tall in the doorway to the event room, the celebration behind him adding a picturesque backdrop to his steady, dominating frame, he smiled. "You've ruined my surprise, have you?" he asked. In five smooth strides, he closed the gap between me and him.
"I was just admiring the picture," I mumbled.
"I thought she knew," Jeremy added. "I figured since she was looking at it, she probably knew what it was for. Sorry about that."
Lucent shrugged. "It's fine. I did prefer to keep the existence of this art canvas private, but Mr. Landseer's attempt at hiding it in plain sight seems not to have worked. Understandable," he added. "The image is profound and captures the eye. The soft, shining flowers and petals, like molten wax, so brilliant and bright across the smooth skin of the canvas." To emphasize his point, Lucent caressed across my artistic nipple, circling his finger on the canvas to show the painted purple lilac, then over to the leaves, and then downwards, sweeping across my stomach and by my belly button. If the canvas showed anything lower, I was fairly certain he would have teased across a flower of a different sort.
He wasn't touching me, he was touching the picture in front of me, but my stomach clenched nonetheless. I envisioned his soft touch, remembered the tickle of the paintbrush as he swept it side to side, this way and that, shaping wax into flowers while tormenting my nipple.
I caught my breath, nearly gasping, when Lucent rested a hand on my side and pulled me closer to him and the art canvas.
"My favorite part," he said with such stern dedication, "are the simple lines along the side." His fingers on my hip brushed up and down along my dress while his other hand gently caressed the canvas, moving along the curves of my painted hips.
It was maddening and intoxicating all at once. It was like I was watching Lucent do all of these things to me, staring down at him and seeing myself, but also feeling every little touch across every inch of me like some out of body experience. His finger traced my curves, following a path near the wax lilac, and his other hand gripped the side of my dress.
Potent, he squeezed my side before saying, "What do you think, Miss Tanner?"
Demure, I glanced towards Lucent, hitching my breath, unable to say a word. Jeremy stared at us, shrugged, then left, clearly not having any taste for discussions about fine art. I didn't even care. I wanted to talk about this painting a
whole lot more. I'd never been as interested and keen on art as I was at this very moment.
"You're very bad," I said, whispering to Lucent.
"Oh?" he asked, his wicked grin showing no concern whatsoever.
"I can't believe you gave this picture to Asher." Lucent's roaming fingers up and down my side made me wriggle and squirm. I didn't know if I wanted to get away from him or to get closer to him.
He moved to shield me from common view, which was all well and good, except now he wanted to do more. His fingers bunched up the fabric of my dress, pulling it tense and tight, then released me, only to move somewhere else, squeeze, move... tempt and tease. From behind me, his hand teased along my side, up, up and further, to beneath my breast. With a press and a push and a pull, his fingertips dug into the front of my ribs, tickling me and making me laugh and writhe. His thumb looped around the side of my breast and the edge of his index finger cupped and lifted my chest, groping and claiming me as his.
Soft and serene, his voice wafted to my ear, a wisp of a whisper. "He was to hold it for me covertly before I presented it to you. Unfortunately, the situation changed, as you may have noticed. I believe I'm enjoying this, though."
"Someone might see," I said. See me, see the painting, see us standing there, Lucent's hand molesting me. Not that I did anything to stop him, but...
"Come," he said suddenly. His tone and temper changed. He became urgent and rough.
I went, or I tried to. Lucent moved with severe intent, feet pounding on the carpet as if he hated its very existence and wanted to move past it as quickly as possible. He held my hand in his, prowling forth, and I scurried after him, hoping to keep up. Not far down the hall, we turned a corner down another hall, and then very shortly after that, we turned again into a darkened room. Lucent practically dragged me inside, then slammed the door shut, and flicked a switch on the wall.
A bathroom. We were in a bathroom.
Granted, this bathroom was nearly as large as my bedroom. Instead of the usual mirror behind the sink and cabinets, a floor to ceiling mirror took its place. It covered an entire wall in the bathroom, reflecting everything, reflecting us. I stared into the mirror, captivated, as if I somehow lived in the reflection and was looking out at my surroundings, instead of the other way around. I was here, outside, and the mirror world didn't exist, but it seemed like a window into another place entirely.
"Miss Tanner," Lucent said. "I want to fuck you."
"Um," I said. "This is kind of sudden?"
Sudden, yes, and I wanted to rip his pants off. I didn't want to take them off, I wanted to shred them. I wished my nails were metal and sharp so I could grab and twist and tear at his entire suit, removing it with force and need. I didn't know what came over me, but the incident in the hall, seeing myself in the painting, watching Lucent admire me, showing me off secretly, caressing my body while not touching me, and then ignoring the canvas in order to dedicate himself solely to my existence.
Squeezing, touching, holding. His fingers in my ribs. It seemed so odd and inconsequential, but in my mind it was an act of raw and primal passion the likes of which I could barely understand. It tickled and made me squirm, but it was his closeness that turned me on. The thought of him able to feel me, inside and out, his fingertips pressing against the skin near my heart and lungs as if he held my soul and my breath in his hands.
I wanted it. I wanted him. I wanted to give myself to him, fully and completely. I was terrible at it, I knew. I didn't understand any of this half the time. He talked of control and submission, his domination. His BDSM things, I said, as if they were something fun and frivolous. And, yes, sometimes they were, but they were more than that, too. They were a part of who Lucent was, a glimpse into his mystery, and I loved him all the more for it.
His control gave him power, but it offered me a little bit, too. I just... I thought too much about it. I worried. I didn't understand and it made me nervous that maybe he'd give up sometime, that he'd not bother anymore, that he'd leave me, ignore me, be done with me because I couldn't keep up and I didn't know how to give him every part of me the way he wanted.
When he was like this, though, it threw me out of myself. I lost control, forgetting my anxiety, leaving only a vague memory of confusion behind.
He touched me, teased me, controlled me.
He never said it, but I felt it. I stared into his eyes, becoming lost in dark steel blue. Your heart is mine, Miss Tanner. Your very soul. Your breath, your essence. Everything that makes you is mine. I own you, entirely and completely.
I was his.
I wanted more, though, and I didn't know how to say it or explain it. The words touched at the tip of my tongue and the concept and ideas flittered through my mind like uncatchable butterflies. I had a net, I had wits, I had comprehension and skill, but none of this made sense to me. It was impossible to me, but I didn't want it to be. I wanted to understand it.
I just wanted everything. All of it. Everything about Lucent. I wanted to control Lucent just as much as he wanted to dominate me, but in a different, impenetrable sort of way. I didn't want to spank him or tie him up or any of that. I just wanted to own him as fully and completely as he owned me. I didn't think that was too much to ask for.
With ease, Lucent did the same thing to me. He did it now. With hunger in his eyes, he surged forth and pulled me against his muscular body. I felt myself melting, pressed against him, as his fingers dug into my dress and my sides, holding me tight against his chest. The muscles beneath his suit roared in protest, wanting to be free of their corporate confinement. Unsure what to do, unsure how to progress or what we were even doing, my mind became blank and my hands hung in the air, halfway between dropping to my sides or embracing him.
Lucent kissed me. His lips conquered mine before I even knew what happened, but, oh no, not without a fight. I remembered myself, remembered where we were and what we were doing, who he was and who I was. I sprang into action, kissing him wildly, fighting against his need with my own desire. My hands grabbed at his suit and his sides, the buttons on the front, anything I could touch. He kept me trapped, his hands on my waist and his arms blocking my way. I scrambled, struggled for more.
My mind flared in inconsistency. I wanted him to squeeze me so tightly and completely that I could never be free of him, but I wanted to latch onto him and lap up his sexual energy and power, too. I wanted freedom and confinement, and I didn't know which I wanted more. I didn't even know if I could separate one from the other.
Lucent spun me around, refusing to let me touch him. I gasped and whined, deprived of his lips and his kiss. I saw him, though. He was mine, locked away in the mirror world, existing behind me and in front of me all at once. I stumbled backwards, caught by surprise as he moved me this way and that. Lucent was rampant, uncontrollable, prowling through the mirror world, prepared to leap atop me and capture me from the front and from behind. Dizzy from his touch and his reflection, caught up in sensation, I didn't even know where I existed anymore.
I leaned against his chest, using him for balance. His hands wrapped around my waist, holding me tight. My dress wrinkled and bunched beneath his hands and his arms. Slowly, he teased my skirt upwards, grasping the fabric tight. The dress inched away from my knee, then up more, revealing my thigh, and further still until he could see every part of my body beneath my hips. Lucent crushed the dress in his hands, the mirror-reflected look in his eyes showing torturous disdain for my clothes.
Pulling me hard against him then pushing me forward, he pressed me against the wall mirror. I lifted my hands up, fingers spreading and clawing at the mirror, wanting to touch some part of him, any part of him, even if it was just Lucent's reflection. He kicked my legs apart, forcing my heels to scrape and scratch against the tiled floor. Grinding his core against my rear, he pushed me forward more, squeezing and pressing my body against the mirror.
I tried to push back, tried to fight for some unknown reason. My body reacted to his roughness. I wa
sn't entirely sure what had come over him, nor me for that matter. I wanted him, and my body didn't know it yet...
Or a part of my body didn't know it yet.
Breasts squashed against the mirror, rear pulled back, neck straining, I watched Lucent in the reflection in front of me. One of his arms wrapped around my waist, protective and possessive, but the other moved lower, down. He held my skirt captive, refusing to give it freedom, and now he wanted to seize more of me. His fingers dipped into the waistband of my panties, slow and delicate, then he jerked my underwear downwards, revealing my glistening sex.
Oh God, I was so wet for him. I wanted him. I didn't even care. Foreplay? What was that? Did we need it? More? Not particularly. I struggled briefly to reach around and undo Lucent's pants, unzip them and release his cock, then guide him to my slick entrance, but I couldn't. He wouldn't let me.
While my panties hung loose near my knees, Lucent dragged his fingers across my slit, smearing my arousal across his fingertips. Forceful, he shoved down, then up, driving two fingers inside me. I gasped, my eyes rolling into the back of my head, then I screamed out my lust, driven by his touch.
"Quiet," he said, smooth and confident.
His hand invaded my mouth, the same fingers he'd used to invade my pussy, and he made me taste my own arousal. I sputtered at first, then I licked at his fingers, salt and sweetness overwhelming me. It was Lucent and me, our taste. The firm grip of his fingers and his spice mixed with my insatiable lust and desire.
"Lucent, I—"
I couldn't say more, though. He lowered his hand again, pinching at the hood of my clit. Pure ecstasy and a lash of pain jolted through me. My knees buckled and I nearly fell, but Lucent propped me up. His fingers invaded me, curving inside of me, while his other arm wrapped around me, keeping me on my feet. He delved deep, deeper, fingertips rough, scraping against every pleasurable inch of my inner walls. And more, wriggling and squirming, finding the absolute center of my center. Ragged and relentless, he made me acknowledge him, his presence, his everything.
His Absolute Assignment - Elise's Love Story: The Billionaire's Continuum (#1) (A Contemporary Romance Novel) Page 11
