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Olivia looked guilty. “Just a bit. He was just venting about how reckless Duran can be sometimes.”
I thought of Duran’s flashing, dark eyes and a thrill went through me, deep in my stomach and down my thighs. Perhaps Duran was a bit hotheaded and impetuous, but I would take that over Lucien’s icy chill any day.
I might not have been immersed in the mafia world the same way Olivia was, but I knew enough to recognize what kind of man Lucien was and I pitied Olivia for it. Yes, he was honorable, but there was nothing behind those cold eyes. If she was still a virgin on their wedding night, he would hurt her and likely think nothing of it. After all, weren’t made men supposed to be ruthless, even with their wives and families? I shuddered and counted myself lucky that it was Duran’s warm hands that found my body beneath the covers at night.
“What do you think of Duran?” Olivia asked. She cocked her head and studied me.
“Well, I like him,” I said, before I thought about the words coming from my mouth. “I mean, I don’t know. I was furious with him at first because he didn’t have to drag me out here, but I guess I did kind of get into his laptop. Maybe that part is on me. But he knew who I was and he chose to terrify me to teach me a lesson—that’s what he said anyway. So, I don’t know how to feel about him now. He can be quite…passionate.”
She nodded and the waitress came to clear away our plates. We made our way back to the house and had another cup of coffee in the kitchen. Around dinner time, Lucien and Duran came bursting back into the house, both looking stressed in their sharp suits with their phones to their ears. They eventually congregated in the corner of the living room to discuss something in low, urgent tones while Olivia and I sat by the window in the plush sofa.
“They’re very handsome,” Olivia said in a low voice.
I ran my gaze over Duran and the memory of him behind me, bending me over the sink, his eyes thick with desire, filled my mind. Yes, he was undoubtedly handsome and he had a wickedly sharp sexual edge that pierced right through my body to my core, but there was something else that drew me in. Olivia spoke of his wildness and that captured my imagination more than any of the hard edges of his body.
My father had shielded our family, wrapping us in a blanket of safety and normalcy. I’d never known a life as dangerous as his and would never have to become the person he was in order to survive in it. What things had he done that would appall me? Strangely the thought didn’t bother me as it once had when I’d looked at his laptop. Instead it excited a small part of myself I wasn’t ready to acknowledge.
“They are,” I said quietly.
“Is it weird that I find Lucien kind of scary, but it’s almost a sexy scary?” Olivia whispered.
I kept my eyes on Duran as he tossed aside his coat and rolled his sleeves to his elbows, light glistening from a trickle of sweat between his collarbones. The smattering of hair rising from his collar made my stomach flutter and I dragged my mind back as it filled with images from last night.
“No, not weird at all,” I said. “Honestly, I feel a bit the same about Duran.”
We ate dinner around the table and Lucien made casual small talk, but Duran kept quiet, his body relaxed against the back of his chair and his fingers running absently over his wineglass. I finished my meal and watched Olivia cut her potatoes and carrots into smaller and smaller pieces. She looked so small and anxious when faced with a plate of food that it tugged at my heartstrings.
Just as the cook was clearing our plates and replacing them with cups of rich espresso and tiny coffee cakes, I felt Duran’s hand slide down my thigh to my knee. I glanced up, but he had his eyes fixed firmly on Lucien as they continued their conversation about tariffs. I forced my gaze down to my plate and began cutting my coffee cake as his fingers played with the hem of my skirt.
Then they slid below the lace edge and played upwards, teasing the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. I clenched my core, hoping my cheeks weren’t burning, as he explored further. I shifted and my panties stuck to me, already wet from the heat gathering in my pussy. His hard fingers stroked over the silk and found the edge of my panties, slipping beneath to find the source of my arousal. I felt him tense a little as they slid over my sex and found my clit and began working the sensitive flesh.
I wasn’t sure whether to be incredibly aroused or mortified. Instead, I squirmed to part my knees further and lifted my espresso to my lips, wincing at the bitter taste. Focus on the espresso, I told myself, not the mental image of his tongue dipping into your pussy. God, how good would it feel to lie back on the pillows and let him work his magic with his tongue and fingers?
I choked as he slid his finger up to my clit and then back down over my pussy. His wrist worked, the muscles in his forearms moving, as he stroked me. I dug my free hand into the chair, trying to keep my body still and my face impassive.
Lucien rose after a while and picked up his jacket from the back of the chair. “Come, Olivia,” he said. “I’ll see you to bed.”
Olivia stood and let him take her hand and they moved to the door. Before they disappeared into the hall, Lucien turned. “About earlier, come see me in the morning before you make any big decisions. That is, if everything goes the way we discussed.”
“Sounds good,” Duran said.
“Oh, and, Duran, resist the urge to finger fuck your woman at the dinner table,” said Lucien. “Goodnight, Iris.”
I froze, my face going red in shame, but Lucien and Olivia were gone, their footsteps echoing down the hall. I glanced at Duran and a slow smile spread over his face; he was clearly enjoying my reaction. I balled my fists as a wave of anger washed over me. Without a word, I stood abruptly and fled the room, practically running down the hall to keep ahead of his lengthily strides. When I got to my bedroom, I slammed the door just as Duran shoved his foot inside to stop it, pushing it open with his shoulder.
“What the hell, Iris?”
“You embarrassed me,” I snapped.
“Ha. You loved it.”
He wasn’t wrong. Beneath the shame of Lucien finding out what he’d done was an undercurrent of heavy arousal. Why did my body have to betray me like this? I gave him a long and withering glare and flounced to the bathroom to undress for the night.
When I returned, he was laying in my bed, stripped to his boxers. The soft lamplight glinted over the side of his face, bathing the other side in shadows. He raised his head, eyes glittering through the dark, and studied me intently as I crossed the room. I slid beneath the covers, not bothering to reprimand his presumption at getting into my bed.
He slipped further down the bed until his head was in my lap and settled it against my thigh. The gesture surprised me and I gently ran my fingers down the side of his neck to his upper back, my hands exploring the relaxed muscles. He was so handsome it was almost heartbreaking and I hadn’t appreciated it until now. It was hard to look past his brazen sexuality to see the more classical side of his beauty.
“Can I ask you something?” I said quietly.
