Page 4 of Bought (BOUGHT TRILOGY #1)

CHAPTER FOUR

Lucian

She stands in front of my door, clutching her coat closed with her hand. Having already seen what’s underneath, I want to see it again. And punish her for wearing those pretty little black panties she’s chosen.

This coat needs to go.

The steel in her gaze loses its edge as I close the gap between us. Her collarbone peeks out from the collar of the coat, and I run my fingertip along the exposed flesh just below it.

I tilt my head closer. “Where were we?” Before she can answer, I tug the belt loose and push the coat over her shoulders, letting it slide to the floor.

“My turn.” She steps back just enough to reach behind her, unclasp her bra, and slide it down her arms. No hesitation. No shame. Her eyes stay fixed on mine. She stands before me—bare from the waist up, chin tilted, gaze locked. Not an invitation.

A dare.

I don’t move. I don’t touch. I watch, and in this moment, I’m certain this is not a woman I can buy or tame.

Already, I don’t think I’ll be able to forget her.

Her head tips to the side. “Am I the only one undressing?” An invitation.

Or a command?

Spend an hour with me, and she’ll be begging.

A few more buttons and I begin to slide my shirt sleeves down my arms. Her eyes stay on the bare skin of my chest, as if she wants to reach out and mimic the motion with her hands. She doesn’t.

There is so much tension in the air between us, hot and pulsing. I can’t bear it. I close the gap in a single step. My hands slide up her arms, feeling, memorizing, until my thumbs rest just below her collarbones, wondering why I’m so attracted to this part of her.

Is it the pulse that races beneath her skin?

Her skin is warm under my palms.

Running a finger over her peaked nipple, I watch her body respond. “You’re trouble.”

She counters, “You paid for trouble.”

“No. I didn’t. I paid for an innocent virgin.” My mouth curves in something not quite a smile. “I paid for compliance.”

“Then you hired the wrong woman.”

My hands move lower, over her ribs and down to her hips. I feel the faint ridge of an old scar on her lower back, realizing I’m not the only one here scarred. I wonder who left their mark, and if they’re still breathing. If she were mine, they wouldn’t be.

That’s a dangerous thought. I push it away.

“One night,” I remind us both. I brush my knuckles over her cheekbone. “You’re not scared of me.”

“You don’t know what I’ve seen,” she says.

A rough laugh escapes me. It’s been years since anyone could look me in the eye and say that without trembling. It's addictive.

She’s addictive.

“Take off your shoes,” I say, aiming to make her as vulnerable as possible.

Eyes on mine, she slides them off, kicking them away, one by one. I look down at her. She’s much smaller than she seemed when she first walked into this room.

I raise one hand to grip her jaw, tilting her head back. “I could do anything I want to you, and you couldn’t stop me.”

Her lips part as she looks up at me, and for a moment, I expect her to be afraid.

“Try me.” Defiance sparks in her eyes.

The words hit me like a shot of adrenaline, and I know I’ll wake up thinking about her.

I bend, my mouth finding hers again—deeper, hungrier, less about testing and more about taking. Her taste floods me, sharp and warm, and I know I should pull away.

I remember my vow: no attachments. No women like her— the kind that make me lose focus, make mistakes, and risk everything. I don’t pull away. I can’t. I control the situation physically, but she’s getting into my head, slipping under my skin.

I wrap my arms around her in a bear hug and kiss her. She can’t break free no matter how hard she fights.

Her fists clench in my shirt, dragging me even closer. I laugh into our kiss. Have I met my match? My grip on her jaw tightens as my other hand slides down her spine, urging her naked breasts against my bare chest until every inch of her warmth is pressed against me.

She doesn’t pull away from my flaws. Instead, she leans into them.

When I break the kiss, I mutter, “This was supposed to be simple.”

“It still can be,” she says, that sexy, sultry voice of hers now laced with doubt.

We’re both feeling it—some magnetic attraction. It seems neither of us is truly in control. Something bigger is at work.

Fate? The universe? A higher power?

Who knows, but for one night, should we bow to its will?

My heart warns me, no, I shouldn’t. I can’t. Not while I’m memorizing the exact cornflower shade of her baby blue eyes and the feeling I get when she looks up at me.

My body decides for us as I take her wrist and guide her to the bed, each step deliberate, a silent dare for her to resist. She doesn’t. But she doesn’t give in, either—every movement a negotiation, a reminder she’s here on her own terms just as much as mine.

I ease onto the edge of the bed, pulling her between my knees.

Her breasts are so close I could lean in and take one of those sweet nipples between my lips and suck.

Instead, I smooth down her sides, and she sighs as I pass over her waist. I rest at her hips, my fingertips slipping over her black satin panties.

I feel a pang of guilt. I don’t want her to go, but I don’t want to ruin her.

“Last chance,” I say quietly. A warning. “If you want to walk out, do it now.”

She stares at me for one heartbeat… two…

Then she climbs onto my lap.

Fuck.

I exhale, my breath leaving with my resistance. I don’t want this to end tonight. She’s a mistake I’d repeat over and over, until it ruins us both.

She settles on me, straddling me, and my hands lock at her hips to keep her exactly where I want. The heat between us is unbearable. Her thighs press against my sides, and my cock is hard enough to hurt against my pants.

She feels it. I know she does because her mouth curves slightly before she leans in, lips grazing my jaw.

“Careful,” I warn.

Her eyes sparkle. “I thought you didn’t like rules.”

I fist her hair, tilting her head back to see her face. No fear. Just that defiant steadiness that makes me want to fuck her senseless and find out what she looks like when she finally loses control.

“I don’t like liars either.”

Her eyes snap to mine. “What have I lied about?”

I release her hair, leaning back as I stare at her. “There’s no way you’re a virgin.

“I don’t have to have had sex to know what a man wants.” Her lips brush my ear, tickling my skin. “To know what you want.”

God. And she does. This girl will kill me.

“Let’s see if I know what you want,” I counter back.

My free hand slides up the inside of her thigh, over the satin. The silky material is damp. My cock twitches, pushing up against her.

“You’re wet, for me,” I say.

She doesn’t deny it. Her lips part, kissing my earlobe, forcing a moan from me.

Where is the wallflower virgin I ordered, the one I’m supposed to control, then forget?

I shift my hand, knuckles grazing her heat, letting the fabric drag against her clit as I stroke her through it. Her breath catches, barely, but enough I notice.

Moving my hands to her shoulders, I pull her back so I can see her face and demand, “Say my name.”

She contemplates me for a moment. “I don’t know it. I was only told you’re Mr. Bachman.”

“It’s Lucian. Say it.”

She waits. A beat. Then breaths out, “Lucian,” the sound branding me with something that feels damn close to ownership.

But I’m not the one being claimed here.

I shove her panties to the side.

“These shouldn’t even be here. You knew better. I told you not to wear them. And you did anyway.” My fingers find her center—hot, soaked, ready for me—and I groan low in my throat. “Looks like you’re a little girl who craves a challenge.”

“I found one,” she gasps. “You.”

“You’re already wet.” I circle her clit once, featherlight. “Probably because it turns you on, knowing what a naughty girl you’ve been.”

She swallows hard, her nails biting into my shoulders like she’s bracing for punishment. Good. She should be.

“I told you not to wear them,” I growl against her neck. “Did you forget who you answer to tonight?”

“No,” she whispers.

“No, who?”

Her eyes flutter open wide, guilty and desperate. “No, Lucian.”

“That’s strike one.”

I press two fingers into her tight, greedy heat. She clenches around me like she was made to take this, to take me. Her back arches, her lips parting on a gasp.

“That’s it,” I say. “Take me in. Let me feel how sorry you are.”

She rocks into my hand, chasing friction, chasing relief. But she doesn’t get to come yet. Not after disobeying me.

I catch her rhythm and pump with slow, deliberate strokes. My thumb circles her clit once—enough to make her moan, enough to light her nerves on fire. She starts to fall apart too fast, her body trembling, her breathing ragged.

I stop.

Right on the edge.

“Lucian,” she whines.

“Oh, now you remember my name?” I lean in, lips brushing her ear. “You don’t get to come, not until I say.”

“Please…”

“You covered what belongs to me. Those were the rules. All mine. One night.”

Which now seems like one million nights too short.

Her thighs tense. Her hips jerk, searching for more. I pull my fingers out slowly, watching the way she whimpers.

She’s ruined and aching, still so damn desperate.

My chest tightens. “You’re not coming until you say my name again.”

She tries. Her mouth opens. But she can’t get it out.

“Say it,” I demand, tapping her clit in a cruel tease. “Say who owns you.”

“Lucian,” she gasps, shaking. “Please—Lucian, I need?—”

I press my fingers back inside, curling them just right, my thumb returning to its rightful place. She’s soaked, pulsing around me, body begging for release. She’s got me completely undone. I want to push her the way she’s pushing me.

“You want to come?” I growl.

“Yes,” she cries.

“Then earn it.” My tone darkens. “Keep saying my name until I give it to you.”

“Lucian… Lucian…” Her voice breaks into whimpers. “Lucian.”

I feel it hit her again, that edge rising fast—and I stop, once more.

“Not yet,” I say. “Bad girls who don’t obey don’t get to come until they’re begging.”

She’s wrecked now. “Please, Lucian! Please…”

I reward her with a final thrust of my fingers.

“Now,” I growl. “Now, come for me.”

And she does—hard. My name on her lips as she shatters for me, again. “Lucian! Oh my…”

Owned.

Punished.

Perfect.

And the clock is ticking.

I withdraw slowly, her moan a symphony of surrender, hips chasing me.

I bring my fingers to her mouth. “Taste yourself.”

Her gaze flickers just long enough to reveal her innocence, then she rises to meet my challenge. She parts her lips and sucks them clean. The sight is enough to tear me in two. I curse softly, moving in to claim her in my kiss. My tongue flicks against hers, devouring.

It’s been years since anyone has gotten inside my head like this. I haven’t even been with her for more than an hour, but I already know the shape of her mouth when she says my name. I know the feel of her hands on me. I know she meets my eye with every challenge.

This is risky. She’s dangerous. I only had a taste of her, and now I’m hooked.

She needs to leave.

Right now.