Page 5

T HE WATER EMbrACED Sylvain like a lover as he completed his first lap. The basement pool, heated to perfection, was one of his few indulgences—a sanctuary where he was able to think, with voices from inner demons effectively silenced by the sound of water breaking against his strokes.

His staff knew better than to disturb him when he was here.

Tonight, however, was an exception.

A subtle click reached his ears, the sound of metal against metal.

Because where his wife was concerned, Sylvain now realized there were no rules he was unwilling to break.

Another click, and it was a sound of a lock that had failed to guard the secrets it was entrusted with.

Impressionnant. Impressive.

Sylvain didn't stop swimming, but slowed his pace, calculating. It had been approximately four hours since he'd left the box in his room. She would have likely found it sometime after her dinner. Then she would have to assemble the pieces, locate the hidden door in her suite, and navigate dimly lit passageways.

All to end up here, a door of metal bars whose lock she had now successfully picked, and faster than he anticipated.

Magnifique.

His little thief continued to exceed expectations, and Sylvain was certain she would continue surprising him.

As he completed his final lap, he sensed his wife's presence behind one of the stone columns that lined the pool. Heard her catch her breath as he pulled himself from the water, droplets streaming down his naked form.

My sweet little pickpocket.

Such an innocent little thing she was, to have lived in the kind of world she lived, and yet still be so intoxicatingly untainted. Untouched. Almost as if she was waiting to surrender her everything...to him.

Sylvain took his time toweling off, his back to her hiding place. He could feel her wide eyes fixed on him, hear the way her breathing changed when she noticed a certain part of his anatomy.

Comme c'est intéressant.

Who knew his wife would be so into... son derrière?

"Are you intending to stare at me for the rest of the evening?" he asked without turning.

She gasped, a delicate sound tinged with embarrassment, and Sylvain almost smiled.

How delightful it was to tease her.

He tossed the towel aside and turned to face her directly, enjoying the way her breath caught again, the way her cheeks flushed crimson. The silk nightgown she wore was another one of his purchases, but seeing her in it set his teeth surprisingly on edge.

It did not feel right all of a sudden, to have his wife wear something that he had bought for someone else in mind. Who knew he would be so sentimental?

He saw her bite her lip, and his agitation temporarily faded. His body had priorities, and with her, it was always this.

"You've found me," Sylvain murmured.

To seduce her so thoroughly and completely—

"Now come and get your reward."

That everything else would cease to matter to her—everything but him.

His own body hardened as he watched her young and supple flesh blossom with every step she took toward him. The rosy tint of her cheeks. The faint tremors rocking her body. And ah, those twin peaks pebbling against the scrap of silk covering her body. He was falling under her thrall once more, and when he saw her tongue darting out to wet her lips, his own desire swelled into life, and he had to clench his fists against the urge to haul her close.

Patience, Sauvage. Patience.

When she was close enough to touch, he issued a single command.

"Kneel."

The word was soft, gentle even. But unmistakably a command.

A thousand emotions flashed over her soft features. Fear. Shock. Embarrassment. But most of all, there was need.

It was the same need that was pulsing through his veins.

The same need that now had his wife slowly sinking to her knees before him, her dark blue eyes never leaving his.

Sylvain's fingers found her hair, silky strands wrapping around his knuckles. So soft. So unlike the hardness of his world. He tightened his grip just enough to tilt her head back, and when her lips parted in a surprised gasp, he guided himself into the moist warmth of her mouth.

Magnifique.

Dazed eyes flew up to meet his, but he offered no mercy in his gaze.

Because her fear, whether she admitted this or not, also fed her desire.

She wanted him because she feared him.

And so it would stay between them, always.

His fingers guided her head, and he felt her tremble at his touch.

"That's it," Sylvain murmured, moving slowly, steadily. "Take all of me."

Each forward motion took him deeper, each retreat gave her time to adjust. She was clumsy at first—of course she was—but a quick learner. Her tongue began to explore on its own, darting and playing against sensitive spots that made him grit his teeth.

With each thrust, he went deeper into her mouth. With each thrust, she learned how to please him, her inexperience giving way to instinct, her tongue circling and teasing the swollen tip of his manhood.

Enfin, ah, enfin.

Her hands, previously frozen at her sides, suddenly reached up to grasp the muscles of his derrière , nails digging hard enough to mark. The unexpected aggression made him growl, and his wife seemed to delight in hearing this, with how she began to test the limits of his control. She was sucking in earnest now, and his legendary control was no match for it.

Sylvain's breathing turned harsh, fingers tightening in her hair as he increased the pace. The sight of his darling little thief on her knees, stealing his heart as she pleasured him, was a battle he had no hope of winning. Her innocent ways were his undoing, her clumsy attempts to drive him wild only making him hunger for her more and more and more...until his wife's name tore from his throat in a groan.

" Liana ."

Release claimed him in an explosive instant, Sylvain spilling himself in her mouth, and satisfaction blazing through his veins as his wife worked hard to take it all in, swallowing everything until the very last drop.

When he slowly withdrew, she collapsed onto the tiled floor, breath coming in ragged pants, and her legs pressed together unconsciously, seeking relief from the ache he knew was building there.

"Your turn, ma petite ."

Her head jerked up in shock. "N-No—"

Silly girl.

His finger slipped back into her mouth, silencing her protests. The way she automatically sucked it told him everything her words wouldn't admit.

Why was she still lying to herself?

Sylvain swooped her up, laying her down on the lounge chair, soft towel under her back. He sat on the edge, watching her every response as he once again pleasured her with his fingers, this time focusing solely on her sweet little nub.

Patient strokes, then furious ones.

And when her eyes pleaded with him, he understood what she was asking.

" Sylvain ."

This was not part of the plan.

But... c'est la vie.

The moment he gave her his name, he knew then there was no coming back from this.

His Liana sobbed his name out as she came, body shuddering at the strength of her release, and still his fingers moved, every stroke plunging her deeper and deeper into an abyss of sensual exhaustion.

"Sylvain... arrête... s'il te pla?t." Stop...please.

His wife's eyelids were already drifting closed as she spoke, her spent body succumbing to sleep.

Pauvre ame malheureuse. Poor unfortunate soul.

She still had the smallest chance of freedom before this. But the moment he gave her his name, it was over for both of them.

He tasted her on his fingers, and it was as delicious as it was forbidden.

She was his, he was hers.

But what remained to be seen was whether she was meant to be his queen... or his captive.

It all depended on whether she passed or failed the test.