Elena
“Make me, Lucian.”
I didn’t even recognize my own voice. It came out all breathy, like it had already been f****d. Like I had already been f****d. Like somewhere between his thigh pressing between mine and his mouth breathing promises into my skin, I had forgotten who I was and decided that if I was going to die of shame, I might as well die soaked.
And the way he looked at me?
Like he hadn’t expected it.
Like the command had been a bluff and I’d just called it.
Lucian’s eyes darkened so fast I felt it hit my c**t like a warning.
“Oh,” he said slowly, like the word was made of smoke. “You want me to make you.”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I was already dripping through my panties, and I was pretty sure he could feel the heat between my legs radiating straight into his thigh.
