Chapter 5

The house felt too quiet after he walked away.

Bella stood in the kitchen for a long time, the marble counter still cold under her palms, the open robe hanging loosely off her shoulders. Her skin burned where his hands had been. The thick, hard shape of his cock was still imprinted against her bare pussy, a phantom pressure that made her clench every time she breathed.

He had pushed her away.

He had looked at her like he wanted to devour her and then forced himself to leave.

She should have felt rejected. Humiliated. Instead the ache between her legs only grew sharper, hotter, more desperate. He was fighting so hard. That meant he was close. Closer than he had ever been.

She spent the rest of the day testing every limit he had set.

She wore the shortest dress she could find in the closet — soft black fabric that clung to her curves and stopped high on her thighs. No bra. No panties. Every time she walked past an open doorway she made sure the hem rode up just enough. She lingered in the hallway outside his office. She asked the housekeeper unnecessary questions in a voice loud enough to carry. She sat in the living room with her legs crossed just so, knowing the cameras would catch the bare flash of her cunt if he was watching.

He stayed locked away.

By evening the frustration had turned into something darker. Something determined.

She found him in the library.

The room was dim, lit only by a single brass lamp and the city lights beyond the tall windows. Lucien stood near the shelves with his back to her, a crystal glass of amber liquid in one hand. He had changed into black trousers and a dark shirt, sleeves rolled once again. The fabric stretched across his shoulders like it was struggling to contain him.

Bella closed the door quietly behind her.

He didn’t turn.

“I told you to stay out of rooms I’m in unless I call for you.”

His voice was low. Rough. Controlled on the surface and fraying underneath.

She walked closer anyway, bare feet silent on the thick rug. The short dress swayed with every step. When she stopped a few feet behind him she could smell his cologne and the faint burn of whiskey.

“You’ve been avoiding me all day,” she said softly.

“For good reason.”

“Because you’re hard every time you look at me?”

The muscle in his jaw flexed. He still didn’t turn around.

Bella took another step. Then another. Close enough now that if she reached out she could touch the broad line of his back.

“I keep thinking about the kitchen,” she whispered. “About how your cock felt against me. How thick it was. How it twitched when I rolled my hips. You were so close to losing it, Lucien. I felt it.”

He set the glass down on the nearest shelf with a sharp click.

“Stop.”

She didn’t.

She moved until she was standing directly behind him, close enough that her breath brushed the back of his neck. Her nipples were tight against the thin fabric of the dress. Her cunt was already slick, the insides of her thighs damp.

“I can’t stop,” she murmured. “I’ve tried. I keep replaying the way you grabbed me. The way your fingers dug into my waist. The way you almost gave in. You’re trying so hard to be good, aren’t you? Trying so hard to control yourself.”

Lucien turned.

The movement was sudden and sharp. One second his back was to her, the next he was facing her fully, grey eyes dark and dangerous, the space between them almost nothing. She had to tip her head back to hold his gaze. The heat of his body rolled over her like a physical force.

His cock was already hard.

She saw it the moment he turned — the thick, heavy outline straining against the front of his trousers, rising so high and so rigid that the shape of the head was clearly visible. It looked painful. It looked like it had been that way for hours.

Bella’s mouth went dry.

“Fuck,” she breathed, staring down at it. “You’re still so hard for me.”

“Bella.”

Her name was a warning and a plea at the same time.

She didn’t care.

She stepped into him until her soft stomach brushed the solid ridge of his cock through the fabric. The contact made both of them inhale sharply. She felt him throb against her, thick and hot and desperate.

“You can keep fighting,” she whispered, looking up at him through her lashes. “You can keep telling yourself this is wrong. But your cock doesn’t lie, Lucien. It’s been hard for me since the second I walked into this house. And I’m done waiting for you to decide you’re allowed to want me.”

His control cracked.

She saw it happen in real time — the way his pupils blew wide, the way his breathing turned rough, the way his hands flexed at his sides like he was physically stopping himself from grabbing her again.

That was all the invitation she needed.

Bella reached down.

Her fingers wrapped around the thick, solid length of him through his trousers, gripping hard enough to feel every ridge, every pulse, the sheer size of the cock he had been denying her.

bella grabbed His dick