Page 161 of The Stranger

“Be serious, Luc. You know what I mean.”

I straighten a little, bringing my gaze to hers. “Maria and her family have looked after the house, my children, and protected my privacy for twelve years. Jacques will take care of Zoe⁠—

“Again, knives.”

“We can stay in town if you’d prefer. Find a hotel.”

“I don’t have anything with me, my clothes and⁠—”

“You won’t need any.” She is unimpressed by my wolfish grin. “Primevère. If anyone dares to ask me, I will tell them the truth.”

“Which is what?”

“That I begged you to stay. With me.”

“How does that make it better?”

I let my gaze settle on her and I hope she sees the truth. “I will protect you. Don’t concern yourself with the thoughts of others.” I snare her by the waist and, hauling her by the hips, spin her until her back blesses my front.

I begin to sway us to the sultry beat; my hands wrapped around her. “Could you feel my eyes on you, down there on the dance floor?”

She rolls in her lips but answers anyway. “I told myself I was imagining things.”

“Did you also imagine how hard I’d get, watching you?”

“Does it count that I’m imagining it now?”

I flex from behind, pressing into her. “What are you going to do about it?”

She makes a sound like a purr when I catch her wrists and pull them to her sides.

“Put your hands on the mirror.”

Her brow reacts with mild confusion.

“Put your hands on the mirror, Primrose.”

She makes a humming sound, almost shocked that she has.

“That’s my good little flower.”

“Is this the part where you make me beg?”

“Would you like me to make you?” I put a little emphasis on make as I stroke my finger down the side of her ribs. “Because I can.” Oh yes, I can. “Make you wet and stung out. Make you beg me to stop. Or never …”

Her breath hits the mirror ragged edged, and there’s a wildness to her eyes as I bite down on the urge to say yes more. I grasp her chin and twist her face to mine, my lips hard and unforgiving, our kiss all clashing teeth and thrusting tongue.

Doucement, I caution myself. Slowly. I ignore the tremble in my fingers as I trace a path up her inner thigh. “Shall I make you beg?” I taunt as I skim a finger over her cobweb panties. “Make you tremble and throb as I own your body. While you watch yourself getting off.”

“What about you?” She gives a valiant attempt at a smile. “Don’t you want me to⁠—”

“Ma belle, you’ve spent long enough seeing yourself through the eyes of men who were too selfish to understand the treasure they had in you.”

Her gaze drops, so I grab her hair at the base of her skull. A swift tug brings her attention back, her eyes wide with shock and hunger as a shiver runs through her.

“Look at yourself, Primevère. Look at how stunning you are.” I will not allow them another moment of her.

“Luc, please.”