Living in Shadow (Living In…) (10 page)

Eleanor made a choked sound as he stroked her clit, pressing his fingers against the soft folds of her pussy. Her head drooped as if she was trying to hide her expression, but he wasn’t having any of that. He wanted to know what she was feeling, whether what he was doing was what she wanted.

“No,” he ordered. “Look at me.”

“I…can’t.” Her voice was ragged. “Please, L-Lucien.”

Again there was fear in her voice. He didn’t want it, wasn’t going to have it. She’d come with him this far, she couldn’t back out now. She was stronger than this.

Leaning forward, he whispered in her ear while he kept stroking her clit over and over. “Are you a coward, Professor?”

A shudder shook her. “N-no.”

“Then… Look. At. Me. I won’t ask again.”

Slowly, her head lifted, her darkened eyes meeting his. And as he watched, her fear slid away to be replaced by determination. As if she were a soldier wanting to prove herself in front of a commanding officer.

It sent a bolt of pure heat straight to his cock. Yeah, fuck, telling her what to do and restraining her were clearly getting her off. And that made him hard. Made him want to take it further.

Dangerous, you prick.

Luc pushed the thought away. No, he could handle this. A bit of dominance wasn’t going to turn him into a fucking rapist or a tyrant. Those kinds of men acted without control or thought, and only for themselves. But he didn’t. He was in control here and he was doing this for her, not wholly for his own pleasure, and that made it different.

Because all that mattered right in this moment was her. Was the look on her face. That strength. That heat. No goddamn fear, only pleasure.

He looked into her eyes, silver gray darkening into the dense gray blue of thunderclouds, and he moved his hand a touch, keeping his thumb gently pressed on her clit while he pushed a finger deep into the tight heat of her pussy.

She panted, staring back at him. “Oh…Jesus Christ…”

“Now, Eleanor,” he ordered. “Show me how hard you can come for me.”

“Oh…God…” A low, ragged moan broke from her, desperate sounding, and her eyes darkened into black. She stiffened and he felt her sex tighten around his finger as the climax hit her, pleasure igniting in her face. And he pulled her mouth down on his, stifling her gasps, tasting sunlight on his tongue.

Eleanor hungrily kissed him back, shuddering. Then as she quieted she tore her mouth away and bent, pressing her forehead into his chest, panting. He released her wrists and stroked her hair, massaging her scalp gently with his thumb as he pulled the hand between her thighs away.

He didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to lose any part of her warmth. Yet the longer they stayed here with her sitting on his lap, the greater the risk of him taking her on the couch. And he wanted to. Wanted to order her to lie back and spread her legs for him, uncaring of the people beyond the alcove.

You liked it. Giving her orders. Telling her what to do.

Unease sat in his gut. It had been a long time since he’d been in command. But he hadn’t forgotten what it felt like. Good. So very fucking good. It had made him feel in control of a situation where he had none. As if he were actually doing something and not merely watching the horror unfold in front of him.

But that life is over.

Of course it was. And telling beautiful Eleanor May what to do was not the same as commanding a group of teenage boys waving Kalashnikovs.

Dismissing the feeling, Luc tugged on her hair and she lifted her face, her cheeks pink. She said nothing, her expression unreadable.

“Are you okay?” he asked bluntly, checking to make sure. “Did I go too far? Do anything you didn’t want?”

“No.” Her voice sounded rough. “And yes, I’m okay.”

He tightened his fingers in her hair. “One night. That’s what I want. But it’s your choice. If you want to walk away, you’d better decide now.”

“I…” She took a breath, her gaze flickering.

Experimentally, he pulled at her hair. “Make a decision, Eleanor.”

She gasped, arching a little in his grip. “Yes. Yes God. Okay.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I…want one night.” The material of her blouse pulled tight as she inhaled, wariness creeping back into her expression. “But one night only, Lucien. That’s all.”

Well, that was fine with him. He hadn’t thought beyond a night anyway. He only wanted her and, hell, perhaps after one night this obsession with her might go away and he could go on with his studies without it getting in the way.

“Okay then.” Gently, he released his hold on her hair. “So we need to talk ground rules.”

She blinked. “Ground rules?”

“I want to know what you like and what you don’t, Professor. Because, I have to tell you, at the moment I’m flying blind and I don’t like it.”

“You did okay from my point of view.” She began to ease away from him.

Oh shit no, she wasn’t doing that again, putting distance between them. Locking herself up. Not after what she’d given him.

He gripped her hips, holding her steady. “Don’t give me that crap,” he said in a hard voice. “I know that for some reason you’re afraid, and I’m not pushing for a reason if you don’t want to tell me. But you can’t expect me to make it good for you if you won’t tell me what you want.”

She was looking down again, not meeting his eyes. Hiding. “What you did before. That’s what I want.”

“You liked me being control? Holding your hands?”

“Yes.”

“And you got off on what I said to you, didn’t you?”

She nodded.

“Give me the damn words, Eleanor.”

Her head finally came up sharply and he thought there was anger in her eyes. Anger that was swiftly masked. “I got off on it, Lucien. Everything you did, I got off on. Is that what you want to hear? Can we go now?”

He frowned, watching her face, trying to figure out what was going on with her. Where this anger was coming from. “You’ve got a real problem with being honest with me, don’t you? Why? Does this have something to do with your ex-husband?”

“No, it does not. I said a night, but that doesn’t include a discussion about my marriage. All you need to know is that I liked what you did and we can do more of that, okay?”

She was protecting herself again. Fuck, it was frustrating. But that’s what people did when they’d been hurt, wasn’t it? They protected themselves any way they could so they could never be hurt again.

Luc raised his hands, cupping her face between them, staring at her. “All I want is to give you pleasure, Eleanor,” he said, talking to the fear she was trying so desperately to hide. “That’s it. Understand?”

This time her gaze didn’t flicker. “I understand.”

It would have to do. He released her. “Then let’s go.”

Chapter Seven

Eleanor kept her mind carefully blank as she walked out of the bar, Luc following behind.

She was going to do this. She was going to go back to Luc’s apartment and spend the night with him and it would be fine.

Piers did not have control of her life. Not anymore.

She would not be afraid. She flatly refused.

All she had to do was make sure Luc didn’t know how far she’d been willing to take her submission to Piers. About the lifestyle she’d been engaged in with him. He could know that she liked a bit of mild restraint and a few orders, so far, so vanilla. But it would be better for him not to know any more than that.

And that’s not letting yourself be afraid?

Fuck, it wasn’t fear. It was good sense. She didn’t know him all that well and the last time she’d been with Doms she didn’t know all that well, the consequences had been painful and devastating. The guy had been a friend of Piers’s at the club he used to take her to, and even though she’d told her husband she didn’t want to be with anyone she didn’t know, Piers had ignored her.

When they first met, Piers had been the one to show her what she’d been missing in the previous relationships she’d had. The element she’d never been able to articulate to any of her early boyfriends: the need to be dominated. The dominance in him had been what had drawn her to him, and then he’d introduced her to the lifestyle, and a whole new, exciting world had opened up.

But then news of their affair got out and he lost his professorship at Berkeley. And he got selfish. Bitter at what he saw as the failure of his life. At having to come to New Zealand and settle for a job at a second-rate university down at the bottom of the world. At having his ambition thwarted because he’d been stupid enough to have an affair with his student then marry her.

Soon he’d begun pushing her boundaries, not for her pleasure but to punish her, becoming not so much her Dominant as her own personal tyrant. Hurting her over and over until he’d destroyed everything she’d once taken pleasure in.

Someone had told her once that submission was a gift. Well, it wouldn’t be one she was going to give to anyone anytime soon.

It was hot outside, the night humid and thick with the scent of the sea from the harbor not far away. Luc took her hand without a word, walking purposefully down the street, and she had no choice but to go with him. She wanted to pull her hand away in case anyone saw them, but his fingers were strong around hers and part of her didn’t want to let go of that strength. As if by holding him, she could take some of it for herself.

Luc didn’t say anything as they walked and neither did she. The tension was too much and she didn’t know what to say anyway. Her heart was beating way too fast and she felt breathless. Nervous.

Scared…

Yeah, she was. But she wasn’t going to let that stop her, now that she knew where it was coming from. She would overcome it.

“You’re thinking again,” he murmured. “I can see it on your face.”

“I’m not going to run away, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“I’m not afraid. But you are.”

She swallowed, cursing his perceptiveness. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

He gave her a long look as his steps began to slow. “So far.” He stopped, glanced at the apartment building they’d stopped outside of. “Here. This is my place.”

It was one of the new developments that had gone up around Auckland’s harbor in recent months. An architecturally designed, streamlined white building with balconies facing the ocean. A place for people with lots of money, definitely not a student.

“Here?” she said, looking up at the building.

“My grandparents bought it for me.” His fingers tightened. “Come on.”

She was conscious of her footsteps echoing through the beautifully tiled foyer as they made their way to the elevators, especially in contrast to Luc, who made no sound as he moved beside her despite the heavy boots he wore.

God, how did a man so tall make no sound? Was he superhuman or something?

There was no one else around and she became conscious of that too as they waited for the elevator doors to open. Of the rising tension between them and his eyes on her. Watching. Hungry.

The elevator opened and Luc held the doors open, gesturing for her to step in. She did so, waiting until he’d punched in the floor number. Then, as the doors closed, she turned to him. She could beat this fear and she damn well would. And perhaps taking control of the situation herself for a change would help.

Putting her hands on his chest, she pushed him lightly against the wall. He was lean and strong and hard against her, his eyes like night staring into hers.

He didn’t speak, but his hands came to rest over hers.

Then suddenly her arms were being held at her sides and he was the one who was moving, backing her across the elevator until she felt the rail on the opposite side press against her back.

She inhaled sharply, her heart racing, desire pooling hot in her veins.

The intensity in his eyes demanded her silence, his fingers around her wrists holding her fast. Very deliberately he eased his body against hers so she could feel the heat of him against the entire length of her body.

Her throat closed, desire crowding inside her. She wanted to tell him to let her go, leave her some space to breathe. To move.

He looked down at her and she knew the expression in his eyes—a statement of intent. He wasn’t going to let her take control.

“No,” he said softly, as if emphasizing that fact. “That’s not how it’s going to go, Eleanor. Because we both know that’s not what you really want.”

“Lucien…” she whispered hoarsely.

But he didn’t let her finish, stopping the words with a kiss that took everything away. Her fears. Her doubts. The past. The future. Everything. Leaving her nothing but what was happening now. His mouth on hers. And the heat that flooded through her.

She could feel her body softening against him, becoming pliant, ready to let him do whatever he wanted. Responding to him with all the hunger from the years of physical loneliness she’d forced down inside her so successfully she thought she didn’t feel it anymore.

Before she was ready, though, he’d lifted his head and was turning away as the doors opened. And sharp disappointment cut her because she didn’t want him to stop. To break the kiss and let her thoughts come rushing back.

He didn’t let her go entirely, however, holding her hand as he led her down a short corridor with a polished wooden floor. Then to a blank, white door. He pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door, pushing it open. “After you.”

She heard the challenge in his voice, saw the dare in his eyes. And she was walking forwards into the darkness of the apartment beyond before she’d had a chance to think properly. The door shut with a heavy sound behind her and the light vanished.

And for a second she panicked. She was in an unknown place, with a man she didn’t know very well, a man who was going to take control, and no one knew where she was.

Eleanor began to turn but there were firm hands on her hips, pushing her against the wall and holding her there. He was at her back, his body hard and hot, pressing against her.

And strangely, wound through the fear that threatened to choke her was also a glittering, bright thread of excitement. It was a potent combination.