Lust rode him ruthlessly in that moment. The memory of Elise did. With an inevitable sense of resignation, he set down the snifter and walked to his bedroom suite. His fingers moved fleetly over his shirt buttons. Instead of removing the garment all the way, he merely opened the sides wide, baring his chest and belly. In the bedside drawer, he found a bottle of lubricant. He unfastened and lowered his pants, scooping his erection out from the confines of his boxer briefs, shoving the elasticized band beneath his heavy balls.
God he ached.
Hastily, he poured some of the lubrication into his hand and rubbed the silky liquid onto his straining cock. He clamped his eyelids closed at the friction against overly sensitive flesh. He let go of restraint, and the floodgates of fantasy opened. Parting his legs and finding a stable stance, he gave in to primal lust, jacking his cock with a combination of precision and forceful, savage abandon.
What would it be like, to see Elise’s dark pink, lush lips stretched around his girth, to see his straining cock plunging into her tight, humid depths while she looked up at him, the rebellion in her eyes trumped by desire, her gaze giving him permission to use and debauch her a little. Sweet, beautiful Elise . . .
Her eyes had always slain him.
He stood there before the floor-to-ceiling window and pounded the staff of his cock. His eyelids flickered open. The golden glow from the lamp provided a blurry reflection of his image. His chest and abdomen muscles flexed tight and hard, his cock looking enormous in his pumping hand.
But he was alone.
The image of Elise’s shining, sapphire eyes as she’d turned and reached for his pants earlier in his office rose to haunt him.
He paused, prickly and edgy with unsatisfied lust. His hand wasn’t what he wanted, but it was all he had. He would not jump into the flames with Elise immediately and wholesale. She would burn him to a husk.
He resumed jacking himself, groaning in undeniable pleasure. Masturbation, when all he wanted was to fuck Elise without mercy until he felt her shudders of pleasure and submission vibrate into his flesh.
Damn those bright eyes, the pink lips, the tight, lush curves that fit his hand perfectly. She lit up a room when she walked into it. She was so small, but so perfect. Her pussy would fit him like a second skin. To restrain her would be so satisfying. He would punish her for weakening him and then take her relentlessly, spend himself . . . empty himself of this tight, ball-aching, plaguing desire.
Leap into her flame and gloriously burn.
He grunted gutturally as warm semen spurted onto his lower chest, his climax so sharp it verged on pain. He pumped without mercy, milking every drop, ruthless in ridding himself of this unbearable tension.
His body shuddered one final time, his fist slowing on the shaft of his pulsing cock. Still panting, he cracked open his eyelids. From the reflection in the floor-to-ceiling window, he saw that his chest and belly glistened from his abundant emissions.
He wished he could have given it all to her.
Impossibly, desire tickled at his balls and moist shaft.
“Damn you, Elise,” he muttered thickly, annoyed by his insatiable lust.
A heavy sense of the inevitable settled upon him as he used several tissues to mop himself dry. He stood next to the windows and stared out at the descending night.
It was not an option, for him to be at her mercy. She was too skilled at playing a man, too perfectly suited to Lucien’s lust. She was an unacceptable risk. An infuriating temptation. An undeniable delight.
No. He wouldn’t deny himself. Not this time.
The sun was just rising over the lake when Elise got off the bus on inner Lake Shore Drive and started walking west on Division Street. The slow ascent of the fiery orb seemed to match the inevitable rise of her anxiety as she neared State and Division . . . and Lucien. She’d seen little of him over the past few days as she was absorbed with her duties, and was nervous at the idea of spending one on one time with him. If only he’d suggested she go with Evan or Javier, she might have been able to disguise her relative ignorance on the topic of marketing. As things stood, she was bound to make a fool of herself in front of Lucien.
She sensed him watching her from where he stood beneath a storefront awning, sipping a cup of coffee.
“Good morning,” he said when she approached. His gray eyes looked especially light in the shadow of the awning. They lowered over her appreciatively.
“Hello,” she returned, feeling a little shy beneath his warm stare. He looked very sexy in a pair of well-fitted jeans and a dark red T-shirt that showed off a lean, muscular torso and powerful arms to eye-catching effect. The casual apparel had the effect of making him seem a tad more approachable but every bit as appealing, reminding Elise of a sexy rock star instead of his typical businessman persona.
His T-shirt was partially tucked in to his jeans in the front, revealing a thick black leather belt with silver buckle that rode low on his lean hips. She belatedly realized he was handing her a cup of coffee. Her cheeks heated. She’d been caught in the act of staring at his thighs and the way his jeans cupped his sex.
“Thank you,” she murmured, grateful for the coffee at such an early hour. She immediately took a drink. Her eyes widened in pleasure.
“Café crème,” she said, grinning. “You even remembered how I take it.”
His smile made something hitch in her chest. “I remembered that you took it practically with equal parts coffee, cream, and sugar as a girl. Do you really still like it that sweet?” he teased.
She took another sip, her sigh of satisfaction his answer. He chuckled and put his hand on her elbow, urging her to walk.