Elara didn't sleep.
She lay in the dark, sheets twisted beneath her fingers, Lucien's voice replaying in her mind with merciless precision.
Don't sleep.
Tomorrow, you won't need to.
Her body understood the promise long before her mind did.
By morning, she was restless, raw, hyper-aware of every sensation fabric against skin, breath against lips, the ache that had settled low and refused to leave. She dressed slowly, deliberately, choosing a pencil skirt that hugged her too closely, a blouse she buttoned but not all the way.
If this was a mistake, it was already made.
The office greeted her with the usual hum of productivity, but beneath it ran a current of tension she felt everywhere. Eyes followed her. Whispers trailed. Elara kept her gaze forward, spine straight, pulse racing.
She didn't see Lucien all morning.
That was worse.
By noon, she was vibrating with anticipation and dread. By three, her concentration shattered entirely. At four-thirty, her phone buzzed.
Lucien Blackwell:
Private floor. Five minutes.
Her breath caught.
Yes, sir.
The elevator ride was silent, ascending past the executive floors until it stopped somewhere she'd never been before. The doors opened to a dimly lit corridor quiet, secluded, designed for discretion.
Lucien was waiting.
He stood near the windows, jacket off, sleeves rolled, expression unreadable. He didn't move as she approached. Didn't speak.
The doors closed behind her.
Lock them, he said.
She did.
Come here.
She crossed the room on unsteady legs, stopping a foot away.
Closer.
She obeyed.
Lucien studied her face, her posture, the tension she could no longer hide. His gaze dropped slowly down her throat, over her chest, to where her skirt hugged her hips.
You didn't sleep, he said.
No.
Good.
His hand lifted, fingers brushing her jaw not a caress, not yet just a test of proximity. Her breath stuttered.
You're shaking, he observed.
Because you asked me to.
A pause.
Then, softly: no. You're shaking because you want to be here.
He was close enough now that she could feel the strength in him, the restraint vibrating just beneath the surface. His hand slid to her waist, firm, anchoring, fingers pressing in just enough to remind her she wasn't imagining this.
Tell me, he said quietly. Did you think about leaving?
Yes.
And?
I didn't.
His thumb pressed lightly into her waist.
Why?
She swallowed. Because I wanted to know what you would do next.
Lucien's breath deepened.
That, he murmured, was a dangerous answer.
His other hand came up, sliding into her hair, not pulling just gathering. Holding. Claiming without force.
Look at you, he said. Standing here, knowing exactly how wrong this is… and waiting anyway.
Her body leaned into his without permission.
Lucien's grip tightened.
That's it, he said quietly. There. That moment when your body decides before you do.
He stepped closer. Too close now. Their bodies brushed barely but the contact sent heat spiraling through her.
You're going to listen very carefully, he said. Because after this, pretending won't be possible.
His thumb traced the line of her lower lip. Slow. Deliberate. Her mouth parted on instinct.
Don't, he warned softly.
She froze.
Good, he murmured. That's control.
His forehead rested briefly against hers. The intimacy of it stole her breath.
You want me, he said.
Yes.
The admission tasted like surrender.
And you want me to take control.
Yes.
A beat. A dangerous, electric pause.
Lucien pulled back just enough to look at her.
Not yet, he said.
The denial hit harder than any touch.
He released her completely, stepping back, restoring distance like a punishment.
Turn around.
Her heart hammered. She obeyed.
Hands on the table.
She placed them there, fingers trembling.
Lucien moved behind her, close enough that she felt him without seeing him. His hand slid down her arm, slow, grounding, stopping at her wrist.
Still, he said.
She nodded, breath shallow.
His touch lingered possessive, restrained then withdrew.
Silence stretched. Her body screamed for more.
Finally, he spoke.
Tonight, he said, voice low and certain, you will leave here untouched.
Her chest ached.
And tomorrow, he continued, you will come back knowing exactly what that costs you.
She turned slowly, eyes dark, undone.
Yes, sir.
Lucien's gaze held hers intense, burning, no longer pretending indifference.
Go, he said.
She left on legs that barely held her, desire coiled tight and furious inside her.
Lucien remained behind, jaw tight, control fraying at the edges.
Tomorrow, he
The next day felt like standing inside a held breath.
Elara arrived early, nerves stretched thin, body still humming from the night before. She hadn't slept again. Every time she closed her eyes, she felt him behind her. Heard his voice telling her to stay still. To wait.
She was halfway through her emails when the message appeared.
Lucien Blackwell:
Private floor. Now.
No countdown.
No warning.
Her pulse spiked.
The elevator ride felt longer than it should have, each second ticking like a dare. When the doors opened, the corridor was quiet muted lights, thick carpet, silence that swallowed sound.
Lucien was already there.
He didn't greet her. Didn't speak. He simply watched as she approached, eyes dark, jaw tight, control visibly strained.
You're late, he said finally.
came as soon as I saw the message.
He stepped closer. You hesitated.
Yes.
Why?
Because I knew, she said softly, that if I came here today, something would change.
A pause.
Lucien's gaze sharpened.
And you came anyway.
Yes.
That was all it took.
He reached for her not abruptly, not roughly but decisively, his hand closing around her wrist and guiding her into the room behind him. The door shut with a solid click.
This room was different. Smaller. Softer. No conference table. Just a desk, a couch, and windows that looked out over the city like a secret.
Lucien released her wrist but didn't step away.
"You should leave," he said quietly.
She didn't move.
Say the word, he continued. And I'll open that door.
Her heart pounded. And if I don't?
His eyes darkened. Then you accept what happens next.
Silence pressed in around them.
I'm still here, she said.
Lucien exhaled slowly, as though something inside him finally gave.
Come here, he said.
This time, when she stepped closer, he didn't stop her.
His hands came to her waist firm, anchoring, unmistakably possessive. The contact sent a shudder through her entire body.
There, he murmured. That's what you've been waiting for.
She leaned into him, breath unsteady, forehead resting against his chest. His heartbeat was strong beneath her ear controlled, but fast.
Lucien tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze.
You're crossing a line, he said.
So are you.
His mouth curved slightly not a smile, but something darker.
Yes, he said. I am.
He leaned down, stopping just short of her lips. Close enough that the air between them felt charged, fragile.
Last chance, he murmured.
She closed the distance.
The kiss was slow. Deliberate. Controlled to the edge of restraint. Not desperate but claiming. His hand tightened at her waist, pulling her closer, grounding her against him.
Her breath broke against his mouth.
Lucien pulled back first, resting his forehead against hers, breathing deep.
God, he muttered softly. You have no idea what you're doing to me.
His thumb brushed her lower lip, as if committing the shape of it to memory.
You don't touch, he said quietly. You receive.
She nodded, every nerve ending awake.
Lucien guided her back until the backs of her knees touched the couch. She sat slowly, eyes never leaving his.
He stood between her knees, hands braced on either side of her, caging her in without touching.
This, he said, is as far as we go today.
Her chest tightened.
You'll leave wanting, he continued. You'll ache. You'll think about this every time you try to sleep.
She swallowed hard.
And tomorrow?
He straightened slightly, gaze intense.
Tomorrow, he said, I stop pretending this is restraint.
Her breath caught.
Lucien stepped back, creating distance once more, restoring control with visible effort.
Fix yourself, he said quietly. Then leave.
She stood on unsteady legs, smoothing her clothes with shaking hands.
At the door, she paused.
Yes, sir?
His gaze followed her, dark and unwavering.
You're mine when you're in this room, he said. Remember that.
She nodded, heart racing.
And left.
Lucien remained behind, hands clenched at his sides, control fraying dangerously thin.
Tomorrow would be different.
Tomorrow, there would be no turning back.