Knight And Play

by Kitty French

  He stroked a hand down the zip that ran the length of her spine as he spoke, making her shiver with anticipation. She’d chosen today’s outfit with care, knowing that she was going to him with the intention of staying.

  Kara’s royal blue dress fitted her snugly around the bodice, its three quarter sleeves a demure contrast with its scooped neckline. The skirt flared around her thighs and ended just above her knees, and she’d opted for high heels, bare legs and her favourite French navy lace underwear. It felt flirtatious, a deliberate decision to signify her intent to Lucien, and a reminder to herself - if she needed one - not to back out.

  Left momentarily to her own devices, she glanced around the room for traces of the real Lucien. There was nothing. No photographs, no knick-knacks, no tell-tale little giveaways. It could have been anyone’s home, apart from the fact that it somehow sung out his name from its very bricks and mortar.

  He sauntered back into the room, having changed from his dark work clothes into battered jeans and nothing else. Sophie closed her eyes and sucked in her breath. He really was beautiful, all broad golden shoulders and hard, lean muscle. He was barefoot, and Sophie knew without needing to check that there would be no underwear beneath those jeans.

  Lucien placed three items on the coffee table with deliberate care, glancing up at her between each one to gauge her reaction. As soon as the first item appeared, Sophie’s pulse skittered, because she knew exactly what to expect next.

  A black silk blindfold.

  A glass dildo, more shimmering art than sex toy.

  And last of all, a heavy silver acorn-shaped butt plug on a rocking stand.

  “Your list, I believe, Ms. Black.”

  Sophie looked at the items. Had she really chosen a butt plug? Jeannie had seemed to love it, and Sophie had been too lathered up thinking about Lucien to consider fully the reality of him working it into her own backside.

  Lucien crossed the room to stand behind her, and seconds later Sophie felt his fingers slide her zip down in one fluid movement.

  “You need to relax, Sophie.”

  He let the dress slip to the floor, leaving her standing in only her underwear and high heels. How could she possibly relax in this state? He’d deliberately pushed her buttons all afternoon, no doubt knowing that she would be putty in his hands by the time he got her here. He turned her in his arms, and she found her stomach against the warm, hard silk of his.

  His hands slid into her hair as he drew her face up to his, tilting her mouth to take his kiss. His lips went from gentle to insistent to a full on sensual assault in seconds, leaving her reeling when he lifted his head. His eyes burned into hers and his hands stole up to pull her bra cups down. He pinched her nipples into hard nubs.

  “See? Isn’t that better?”

  Frankly, Sophie wasn’t sure she felt any more relaxed, but she didn’t want him to stop, so she pushed her arms together and reached down to massage Lucien's crotch. She looked down at her cleavage, her exposed pink nipples erect and begging for his attention. Lucien eyes closed momentarily as her hands circled his erection, then snapped open and locked with hers. He rocked his denim-clad cock forward into her hands.

  “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t stand up,” he said softly.

  Excitement pooled between Sophie’s legs as she popped the top button of his jeans. Lucien shook his head and stepped away. “But not yet.”

  He picked up the blindfold from the table.

  “I’m guessing this was the first thing you picked.”

  Sophie nodded and swallowed hard.

  “Because you thought it was the safest choice.” It was a statement rather than a question.

  She lifted one shoulder, unable to argue, because he was right. It had felt like the tamest choice compared to most of the items she’d seen that afternoon.

  “You didn’t think this through at all, Princess,” he murmured as he stepped in front of her again. “Blindfolds are all about control. Or loss of it.” He placed the black silk over her eyes and tied it lightly behind her head. Sophie closed her eyes behind the material, disoriented by the darkness. She could hear Lucien moving, but couldn’t get a fix on where he was without her vision to help her.

  “Lucien, please. I don’t think I’m ready yet…” she murmured, anxiety spiking through her body. She wanted to reach up and adjust her bra. And then she didn’t want to, because his hot mouth fastened around one nipple and sucked, and his fingers rolled the other hard tip. The shock of not realising he’d been so close made her cry out, and a bolt of lust slashed suddenly through her insides.

  She reached out for him, but he caught her arms and put them back at her sides. “When you’re blindfolded, you don’t touch me unless I say so.”

  What? Dan had never been a dominant lover, and Lucien’s authority thrilled her far more than she liked to admit.

  “This is how it has to be when you’re blindfolded, Sophie.” He whispered, behind her now, and he pushed his hand unexpectedly down the front of her knickers.

  “Fuck, Lucien!” Sophie gasped, beyond turned on by his erotic game.

  “That’s not very polite, is it, Ms. Black?” His fingers delved deeper until his hand cupped her sex. “The second rule of being blindfolded,” he whispered as he parted her and pushed two fingers inside her, “is that you must be polite at all times.”

  Sophie nodded. “Yes, Mr. Knight.” Christ, his fingers felt amazing. She couldn’t help but rock herself against him, and she yelped in shock when his other hand smacked her bottom really quite hard.

  “Did I give you permission to enjoy it?”

  Sophie couldn’t get her breath. When he’d smacked her it had forced his fingers deeper inside her, and all she could think was do it again, do it again, do it again. “No, Mr. Knight.”

  “That’s better.” His hand fondled her bottom to soothe away the sting, then he eased his other hand out of her knickers. “I’m going to take the blindfold off for now. When I put it on again later, I want you to remember the rules. Can you do that, Sophie?”

  Sophie nodded.

  His palm slapped her bottom again. “Out loud, if you please, Ms. Black.”

  Sophie deliberated for a second as he massaged her again. Did she please? If she didn’t say it out loud, it was becoming apparent that there would be consequences. It appeared that hesitation was another forbidden sin, because Lucien tutted under his breath with clear impatience. Sophie braced herself.

  “You have much to learn, Princess.” His voice was silk against her ear as his palm stung the cheek of her bottom for a third time. Zings of pain and pleasure fired between Sophie’s legs. It felt wrong to want him to do it again, but every nerve in her body screamed out for more.

  She almost grumbled out loud in frustration when his fingers slipped the knot on the blindfold open. Sophie blinked as her eyes readjusted to the light, and her body mourned the loss of his touch.

  When she turned around, she saw Lucien standing with his arms folded across his bare chest and the gleam of triumph in his eyes.

  “It would seem that blindfolds aren’t quite as innocent as you thought, Sophie.”

  “I don’t think there were any innocent choices on that video, Lucien.”

  “Maybe not. Take your bra off.”

  “Lucien…” Embarrassed, Sophie looked down at her half exposed breasts, wanting to pull the material back into place rather than take it off. He reached out and pulled her against him, shockingly warm, skin to skin, his evident erection hard against her stomach.

  He looked down at her. “You feel what you do to me?”

  He traced a slow finger from one puckered nipple to the other, then reached behind her and unclipped her bra. The material fell away, leaving Sophie almost naked and vulnerable in his arms. He dipped his head to claim her mouth, his lips warm and gentle on hers. Slow. Sensual.

  His arms moved to hold her against him, her breasts crushed against the wall of his chest. Sophie clung to him, wiped out b
y the tenderness of his kiss. “Princess,” he whispered against her lips, his hands between their bodies to cradle the fullness of her breasts.

  “Lucien…” she breathed, swept away by how good his hands made her feel. He reached down and lifted her clean off her feet, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as his hands cupped her bottom. She revelled in the sensation of his strength around her softness. They both groaned in response to the way her sex cradled his erection, and he moved her slightly to accommodate him fully between her legs. His mouth never left hers as he crossed the room to lay her down on the plump cushions of the sofa. He covered her body with his own, and Sophie sighed with primal satisfaction at his weight over hers.

  From the moment she’d met Lucien he’d radiated danger and lust, but right at that moment, cocooned beneath the warmth of his chest, he gave her the last thing she expected, and it turned out to be the thing she needed most of all. He gave her safe harbour. She felt protected in his arms.

  She hadn’t anticipated how incredibly sweet his kiss could be, or how gentle his hands might be as they slid her knickers down her legs. There was no talk of blindfolds, no glance towards the toys lined up on the table. Sophie sensed that this was probably outside of Lucien’s plan, and she treasured him all the more for understanding what she needed. The breath jarred in her throat as his fingers moved to unbutton his jeans. For all that had happened between them, she’d yet to see him naked. The final barrier. He reached into his pocket for a condom, and then kicked his jeans off.

  For a few seconds, Lucien simply settled his body over the length of hers and held her, giving her time to accept the weight of his erection against her abdomen. Sophie melted. She wanted him. Christ she wanted him. There was no doubt, there were no second thoughts. Lucien had kissed them all away. He ripped the foil packet of the condom with his teeth and sheathed himself, them settled back between her legs with his forearms either side of her head.

  “Open your eyes,” he murmured as his knee moved between hers. Sophie lifted her lashes, and Lucien’s clear blue gaze locked with hers as he tipped his hips slowly, his rock hard length stoking delicious friction back and forth over her clitoris. “Feel good?” A lazy half smile touched his lips. Sophie bit down on her lip to hold the cry of pleasure inside. This man was something else when it came to confidence. Jesus, yes. You know it feels good.

  Lucien’s tender thumbs stroked the rogue tears from her cheeks, and his feather kisses traced her lips as he positioned himself.

  Sophie clutched him, her fingernails digging arcs into his shoulders. He was strength, and he was magnificence, and as his beautiful hard cock sliced decisively into her, he became her Viking lover. Sophie cried out his name as he filled her, foreign and mysterious, and each thrust sent lust spiralling higher, tighter, deeper… more, more, more. Euphoria mingled with physical pleasure, building with Lucien’s every stroke and thrust.

  More. More. More. Boneless and mindless, she was a pool of heat and desire underneath his mastery.

  His hand cupped her face as his other snaked between their damp bodies, and Sophie gulped in dry air as he thumbed her clitoris. Thrust. Stroke. Rub. Thrust. Stroke. Rub. He set up a trinity of motion, and with every repetition he pushed Sophie closer and closer towards the edge of control.

  His eyes still held her gaze, and she could see the effort in his clenched jaw as he held his own pleasure back for hers. His thumb was still stroking her clitoris, and his tongue mirrored the movement in her mouth.

  “You. Are. Fucking. Amazing,” he ground out, punctuating each word with a deeper thrust. Sophie’s fingers curved around his nape as her hips started to buck uncontrollably, and Lucien read her cues well and switched from slow and deep to fast and hard. His tongue in her mouth, his cock buried inside her. Faster, harder, yes, yes, yes! Sophie’s orgasm exploded through her body, making her shudder and jolt beneath him. Lucien threw his head back and pumped his hips, leaving her nowhere to go but further over the top with him. They moved in frenzied, primal unison.

  Animal.

  Feral.

  Sensational.

  Lucien rested his forehead against Sophie’s, the aftermath of his orgasm still vibrating through his groin. He hadn’t intended this to happen in quite such a vanilla way, but one look at at Sophie’s vulnerable face and his hunter-protector gene had kicked in hard. Most of all he’d wanted to settle her, to comfort her, to gentle rather than shock her into submission.

  He kissed the tip of her nose. Shocking her was next on his agenda.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Sophie wound the belt of the short, white towelling robe around her waist and knotted it, glad that Lucien had been thoughtful enough to provide it. He had slid back into his battered jeans. The toys still sat central on the coffee table, and she did her best not to look in their direction as she padded through to the open plan kitchen after Lucien.

  Pristine white gloss and stainless steel units lined the walls in unbroken ranks; it was clear to Sophie that this wasn’t a kitchen that saw much in the way of action. Or not cooking, at least.

  It was a little after nine, and dusk had turned the sky outside a deep petrol blue and the trees around the house into spindled black shadows. Not quite night time, but almost there. Sophie sensed, with a minute thrill, that it would nonetheless be a long time until bedtime.

  As she entered the kitchen, Lucien was standing with his back towards her, lit by the soft light from inside the huge stainless steel fridge he was reaching into. She was pulled up sharply by the beautiful monochrome tattoo inked across his broad shoulders.

  An intricately detailed lone wolf, bound around with ropes and vines stretched from shoulder blade to shoulder blade, enhancing every slope and taut angle of his back. It was stunning, and Sophie longed to go and run her hands over it. Over him. He turned as she approached, and she lost her nerve.

  “Hungry?”

  Sophie thought about it and decided that in actual fact, she was starving.

  “Yes. Yes, I am. Is this where you tell me you’re a crack hot chef?”

  Lucien lifted a lazy eyebrow.

  “No. This is the point where I offer to serve you sushi off my navel.”

  Sophie’s eyes opened wide. Was he even joking? She still didn’t have a good enough measure of him to be sure. She breathed a sigh of relief when he retrieved a huge bacon quiche, a bag of salad and a bottle of champagne from the fridge and closed the door.

  “We’re in luck. Fran has been today.”

  Fran? Who was Fran?

  Lucien heaped food onto two plates without offering an explanation. To be fair, he didn’t owe her one. He was her boss, and her one week only lover, nothing more.

  The food was delicious, helped down by champagne that loosened both Sophie’s nerves and her tongue. Was Fran his girlfriend? His lover? His mother? She burned to know. Jesus, was she his wife?

  No. He wasn’t married. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but he was most definitely single. Unlike her. Thoughts of Dan on holiday somewhere with his lover encroached on her mind, and she began to push her food listlessly around the plate.

  “Stop it,” Lucien said softly.

  Her eyes flickered up.

  “Ditch the guilt, Sophie.”

  Boy, he was good. He might be unreadable to her, but to him, she seemed to be an open book.

  “It’s not that easy.” She picked up her champagne glass and drank deeply, trying to wash away the melancholy.

  Lucien filled up her glass again.

  “Your husband doesn’t seem to struggle with it.”

  The melancholy twisted into anger. Lucien was right. Dan hadn’t given her a second thought when he’d planned his clandestine holiday. Christ… what if he wasn’t coming back? Had he left her and just couldn’t find the balls to tell her?

  She shut her eyes. What a mess. Why was she here? What did it prove, really? That anything Dan could do, she could do better? Because one thing was for sure. Whatever Dan had done, she w
as going to do far worse before Sunday rolled around.

  “So, Sophie. I’m intrigued.” Lucien said conversationally, breaking her train of thought. “Why the glass dildo?”

  Lucien directed Sophie upstairs to his bedroom whilst he grabbed a fresh bucket of ice and a bottle of vodka from the freezer. He pocketed the blindfold and the metal acorn as he passed through the lounge, plunging the glass dildo into the ice bucket as he headed for the stairs.

  In a late night bar in Greece, Dan ordered another brandy just to annoy Maria. She objected to him drinking too much in case he couldn’t perform in bed. Nothing like Sophie, who happily matched him drink for drink then loved to slide tipsily into a late night game of strip poker. Or else she used to, back when they were happy. Where had it all gone so wrong?

  He looked up as Maria wound her way back across the bar. Brunette instead of blonde. Gym-firm instead of softly curved.

  She smiled when she caught his eye, and then pinched her brows together when he saluted her with his refreshed brandy glass. Whatever.

  Sophie lingered in the doorway of Lucien’s vast bedroom. More floor to ceiling glass, but by now the view was hidden beneath the velvet cloak of the black night sky. A huge, metal-framed bed dominated the central space of the room, covered in snowy white sheets, plump cushions, and throws fashioned from neutral velvets and furs. Den-like. The hairs on the back of Sophie’s neck prickled at the thought of spending the night in it with Lucien.

  The rest of the room was almost clinically tidy, the sleek wooden walls and floors disrupted only by a huge sheepskin rug. This was very much Lucien’s lair, and Sophie felt for a moment as a lamb to the slaughter. She moved across and perched on the edge of the bed at the sound of Lucien coming upstairs, and noted with apprehension that there were mirrors on the ceiling over his bed. It seemed curiously old hat, a kind of borderline lazy way for a love god to mark out his territory.

  “Refreshments,” he said, placing the ice bucket down. “And entertainment.” He dropped the blindfold onto the bedside table and laid the silver acorn next to it. He flicked a lighter to a candle, then turned to face her. His eyes skimmed down the terry gown still wrapped tightly around her body.