LUCIEN
"Ahh-ughhrrr," I can clearly hear her frustration. The way she was fighting for dominance.
She wasn't getting the pleasure in it. I can see it on her face.
God. I had never let any of my escorts ride me. I have never done a one-night stand in my life. I know with the background I come from, it could backfire anytime. It would become controversial. I have never done it before getting them to sign the NDA. I have never done it without precaution. And yet here I am, listening to this stranger’s sinfully dangerous, sensual moans.
It's melting in my ear like honey and so fucking addictive.
Fuck.
I have never thought of having this before. But right now it's hell. Heaven and everything. All at the same time. Her riding me is fucking surreal. I have never seen a woman this beautiful.
All the escorts I hire are always behind my money, reputation, and fame. Though in the end, I ruined them well and good. They behave like insects, irritatingly and annoyingly trying to grab my attention.
But with this woman, I can see the challenging spirit, her fight for dominance. Even though her body reacted like heaven under mine, I could hear it in her melodic voice. But she was fighting so hard to get her own pleasure on her own terms. Needless to say, it's the truest anyone had ever been with me.
Though, she, naked, on me, looking like a fuckingly amazing sex goddess—it would be a shame to hide it under me. But I have to give her what she needs. I fucking need to.
I tugged hard on her left nipple with one hand while the other gripped her hip. In a heartbeat, I flipped her onto her back. Before she could even gasp, I pinned her wrists above her head. Her body arched as she gasped in realisation.
Fondling, teasing, and tugging on her nipples, I said, "Ask for it. Say it."
She bucked her head to look into my eyes and I smirked, "You’re not going to get it without any work, babe. Say it."
I pulled out of her and ground, slowly and teasingly, against her entrance.
She let out a throaty, aggressive groan, cursing me, "Fuck you, Assho---"
I thrust back in, deliberately slow. Painful for me, sure—my balls were screaming. But I wasn’t giving her what she wanted until she said it.
I was watching her annoyed face. So I picked up my pace a little just to fuck with her. And when the lines of frustration slowly eased and the pleasure took its place, I slowed it down. It was painful. But I know it'll be worth it.
This time she rattled to free her hands and I know there’s a hundred percent chance she might strangle me to death or scratch my face until blood oozed out, and I couldn't afford any of it.
So I tightened my grip and said, "Say you want it. Or this time I'll pull out and walk out of this door."
"I can't do this now." She bit back.
"Oh I can and I will, Babe. Watch me."
"Fuck. You. Y-yes." She almost whimpered the last word in aggression.
A savage grin curled my lips as I demanded, "Yes what?"
"Yes, I want it, asshole." She spat back.
"Want what? Make it clear. Don't make me guess. Just for your information, I am awful at it."
"Make it rough. Motherfucker." She hissed, baring her teeth.
"At your service, Ma'am." I picked up my pace. This time I was rougher, wilder. The satisfaction and pleasure across her face was totally worth it.
Her nails dug into my arms, leaving angry red trails. Her breath came in ragged gasps against my neck. I could smell the sweat, the rawness, the pure lust.
Her heat clamped around me, greedy and perfect. Sweat slicked our bodies as I drove into her, watching her breasts bounce, the flush rising on her chest like a victory I’d fucking earned.
Half an hour ago...
The private lounge stank of overpriced whiskey and fear.
I could taste the panic in the room — subtle, sharp, like blood in expensive whiskey.
The private lounge at the top of the Midnight Lounge wasn’t just for drinking. It was for warning. For showing men what happened when they underestimated me.
The lights were dim, but not enough to hide fear. My inner circle sat tense in leather chairs, clutching reports, avoiding my eyes. They're sat like schoolboys caught cheating—sweating behind silk ties and shiny cufflinks, pretending they hadn’t watched three hundred million dollars disappear in under thirty-six hours.
A digital screen blinked behind them, numbers still plummeting.
I stood at the center of the storm, calm as a loaded gun.
“Moretti Group shares dropped nine percent in thirty-six hours,” I said coldly, running a finger along the rim of my glass. “We just lost three hundred million in valuation.”
No one breathed.
I rose slowly from my seat.
“That’s more than a dip,” I continued as I swirl my scotch. “That’s sabotage.”
One of them — Marcus, a finance advisor I’d overpaid for years — tried to speak. “Lucien, the market's reacting to the leaked acquisition plans. It’s not necessarily—”
I cut him off with a look.
“You think I care what the market’s reacting to?”
Silence.
I walked over to the window, overlooking the Manhattan skyline. My reflection stared back — polished, cold, controlled.
“I had a deal on the table for a military-grade AI firm in Germany,” I said. “We were forty-eight hours from sealing it. Now their board pulled out, citing ‘instability within Moretti Group.’”
I turned back to them.
“My empire doesn't leak,” I said quietly. “My enemies don’t eat unless I allow it. So if there’s instability, it’s sitting in this room.”
Marcus opened his mouth again. Stupid.
“Lucien, let it go—these things happen in business. A few million lost—”
I didn’t let him finish.
I was across the room in two strides and grabbed him by the collar, slamming him into the edge of the glass table. Paperwork flew. His breath left his body in a gasp.
“I don’t lose,” I growled, my voice low and lethal. “I don’t get played.” I leaned in closer, nose inches from his. “I am the f**king game.”
He coughed, gasping.
Then I let go.
He slumped back, coughing, avoiding my eyes like the coward he was. I adjusted my sleeves with surgical precision, then poured myself another drink — not because I needed it, but because it reminded them who was in control.
I took a slow sip.
“Find out who leaked the files. I don’t care if it’s someone on this floor or across the globe. I want a name. I want evidence. I want their blood. Understood?”
The room answered in silence.
As it should.
Ten minutes later, I walked out of the suite and into the hallway, fury still crawling under my skin.
My tie hung loose, my knuckles raw and split from the wall I’d just punched. Pain didn’t matter. Control did.
I braced my hands on my thighs, breathing hard—until I heard it.
Click. Click. Click.
Heels. Deliberate. Bold.
I looked up.
And saw her.
The world narrowed.
Black leather jacket clinging to a sharp frame as her second skin. Cap dangling from two fingers. Boots that clicked like punctuation. Dark inky hair. Unreadable eyes.
She didn’t slow.
Didn’t smile.
She walked toward me like the hallway belonged to her.
I straightened and took out the packet of my cigarette from my coat pocket, I was watching her closely while placing the cigarette in between my lips.
My first instinct was to ask who she was. My second was to kiss her.
Albeit I did neither.
As I reach for the lighter in my pocket. She stopped inches from me. Eyes locked on mine. And without asking, reached for the cigarette pack in my hand.
I let her.
She pulled one out, placed it between her lips then put the pack back in my pocket, and waited.
I raised the lighter. Flame flickered. Her features danced in its glow. She didn't bother to dip her head a little to light hers, instead reached for her jeans pocket and took out her own lighter. And something about told me that she intentionally didn't want to drop her head even just a bit infront of me.
Which undoubtedly bruised my ego just a little bit but I am not the type of person who shows his inner things so casually and as I was watching her she didn't seemed that type of, too.
I took a sharp drag and then saw her taking some steps back as she leans against the wall across me. Though the foreign thought of trapping her close to me bugging in my mind violently. I didn't tried to entertain it.
I laughed internally knowing that she won't be able to afford it even if she spends her whole life for it.
“That doesn’t suit you,” I murmured.
She took a slow drag. Let the smoke curl out like she owned the air between us.
“I don’t care,” she said, crushing the cigarette beneath her heel halfway through. And I felt something else also got crushed along, I couldn't name.
I raised an eyebrow. “That pack cost me two hundred dollars.”
She shrugged. “You look like you can afford to waste things.”
That got my attention.
Most women tried to impress me. Touch me. Worship me.
But her?
She wasn’t seducing me. She was challenging me.
“You’ve got attitude,” I said.
She tilted her head, eyes flashing. “And you’ve got an overfed ego.”
I laughed once. A short, sharp sound. “Must be exhausting being worshipped all the time.”
“You have no idea.”
She circled me slightly, then came to a stop.
And dropped the line that nearly unhinged me.
“Do you want a one-night stand?”
I froze.
She didn’t only ask it like an offer. She delivered it like a dare.
I took a step closer, towering over her now. “My ego’s not that fragile, sweetheart. But just so we’re clear—”
She waited, eyes locked on mine.
“I pay my escorts,” I said, voice low. “Not the other way around.”
Her smirk was venomous. “What price do you think I’d pay for you?”
Getting women isn't a hard thing for me. I am well aware with the fact that the slightest tug at the corner of my lips in their direction had them drop their panties for me. I raised an eyebrow. My eyes stern as I said, “I don’t do male escort gigs.”
She leaned in, lips nearly brushing my jaw.
“Everyone has a first time,” she whispered. “I don’t mind being yours.”
My pulse slammed against my throat.
She wasn't trying to get into my bed.
She was trying to get under my skin.
And succeeding.
I tried to laugh it off. “You think I’m that easy?”
“No,” she said, dragging her fingers down my chest, slow and taunting. “I think you’re that desperate to prove I’m not in your head.”
That’s when I snapped.
I grabbed her waist and slammed her against the wall.
Her laugh was breathless. Mocking.
My mouth crashed against hers. Her hands tangled in my shirt, tearing it open. My lips left bruises down her throat.
She bit back moans, like she wanted me to work for it.
And I did.
God, I did.
The Suite.
We never made it fully through the doorway.
Clothes hit the ground in seconds. Her nails scored my back. I buried myself in her like I could drown the fire she lit inside me.
Her breathy curses in my ear felt like gasoline.
Her body? Destruction.
I didn’t ask her name.
I didn’t want to know.
Because knowing would make her real.
And real meant dangerous.
Hours Later.
I woke to the scent of her perfume — but the bed was empty. I touched the other side of bed to feel her but it was cold and empty. The air was cold. Her warmth gone. Her shadow vanished.
I sat up slowly, heartbeat heavy. My blazer caught my eye — hanging differently.Something was off.
I stood. Checked the inner pocket. My purse was there but some of the money was gone.
And with it, everything. A slow smile spread across my face. Not because I was amused.
But because I knew what this meant.
The girl with the leather jacket and no name had just robbed me.
Played me.
Marked me.
And for the first time in a long, long time…
…I wanted to see her again.
Not to punish her.
But to finish what we started.
To be continued…
This is the first chapter of my novel "A Dark Tempting Desire" If you like, You can read the further chapters in my novel on Noveltoon
