Elena lay back on the bed, her chest rising and falling as though she had just run for her life. Her blouse and bra were already gone, her skirt tossed aside, and the cool air of the suite kissed her bare skin. Goosebumps spread across her arms, but it wasn’t from the cold—it was from him. Her whole body trembled, not just from the chill but from the heavy weight of his presence.
Lucian stood at the edge of the bed, towering above her with his shirt hanging open, his chest broad, muscles carved like stone beneath his pale skin. The black ink across his torso looked dangerous, sharp lines and shapes that seemed to belong to violence and power she could never understand. His eyes—those cold, sharp blue eyes—never left her, as if she were already claimed and couldn’t escape.
Her thighs pres
