4
Lena’s POV
I barely made it through the next day.
Every time I closed my eyes, I felt his breath against my skin, his voice in my ear, his hands everywhere except where I wanted them most.
I had never felt this way before. Not about a man. Not about anything.
It wasn’t just the s*x—because, technically, there hadn’t even been s*x. It was the way Lucian had controlled me. The way he’d read me so easily, so thoroughly, like he already knew every filthy, desperate thought that had ever crossed my mind before I even thought them.
And the worst part?
He had left me wanting.
I spent the whole day replaying last night, biting my lip through meetings, shifting in my chair at lunch, aching for something I didn’t have the words for.
I should have been embarrassed. I should have told myse
