She wanted to lay her head on the desk and cry with frustration.

“Yes, Mr. Knight.”

“And Sophie? Remember. Three things. Make a list. I’m going to make you come harder than Jeannie and more times than you can count.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

A little after five, Sophie heard Lucien’s office door open. He’d been downstairs in a meeting for most of the afternoon, leaving her free to tussle with her conscience and watch the video as instructed and construct her list of three items.

She’d squirmed her way through most of it, shocked at times, horrified occasionally, but more than anything else she was turned on and desperate for Lucien.

She smiled tensely as he appeared around her doorway.

“Good meeting?”

He shrugged. “I got what I wanted, so yes.”

Sophie drew in a deep breath. It seemed that this man always got what he wanted, in business and in pleasure.

“Have you made your list?”

Sophie automatically glanced down at the scrap of paper on her desk. She had indeed made the list he’d requested, but not without considerable discomfort. Just writing the words had made her blush. Lucien’s gaze followed hers, and he crossed the room and picked the piece of paper up. He scanned it in silence for what felt to Sophie like at least three hours.

“Interesting choices, Ms. Black. A little tame in places, but we can work on that.” He unfastened the top button on his shirt and ran a finger around the collar. For one shocking - no, thrilling - second Sophie thought he was going to start working on it right there and then, but he turned away and headed for the door.

“Finish up, Sophie. We’re leaving.”

Sophie glanced at Lucien’s profile as he drove. He handled the car with the same mastery with which he managed everything else in his life, and it responded to his touch like a rapt lover. She had no clue where they were headed, but she was relieved from the direction he’d taken that it wasn’t the club again.

She could ask him, of course, but it didn’t matter really, because she’d made the decision to give herself over to him completely until Sunday. There was a certain freedom in following his lead; freedom from responsibility, the surrender of all conscious decision.

They were out in open countryside now, which surprised her. Lucien was such a creature of the metropolis, he belonged in the dark, throbbing glass and metal heart of the city. He looked out of place here amongst rolling fields and lush hedgerows.

He turned sharply along an unmarked road and a pair of black iron gates swung silently open to allow them access.

It was a stark contrast to last night when he’d dropped her home in her suburban cul-de-sac. He steered along the sweeping driveway, and as the car rounded the bend, Sophie caught her first glimpse of what had to be his home. The location had lulled her into expecting a country house, so the breathtaking front wall of Lucien’s thoroughly modern country pad was a revelation. An architect’s wet dream of juxtaposed angles and sheet glass, it was more of a sculpture than a home.

“Wow.”

He turned to look at her as the engine idled whilst he waited for the garage door to slide silently upwards.

“Not what you were expecting?”

“No… actually, it’s just what I was expecting, but in an unexpected place.”

He slid the car inside the garage and climbed out.

“Out here, no one can hear you scream, Ms. Black.”

Sophie got out of the passenger side and eyed him across the roof of the Aston Martin. She wasn’t frightened. For some reason she knew she could trust him. She would never have come here if she wasn’t utterly sure that she would be safe. He would protect her, not harm her.

He was right about one thing, though. There was every chance he was going to make her scream.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Sophie followed Lucien into the house and found herself in a huge, sunken lounge, which, from the angles of the windows, appeared to be cut into the hillside. Lush, warm wood tones complemented the oversized mink velvet couches. Classy and understated with huge rugs and sleek furniture, it screamed sexy urbanity, with its theatrical mood lighting and floor to ceiling glass. All very in keeping with the man who stood beside her.

“Make yourself at home. I’ll be back in a few seconds.”

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.