Chapter 23: His Fingers Inside Me

Olivia’s POV

​I bit my lower lip so hard I almost drew blood, trying to suppress the sounds clawing their way out of my throat. And then, I felt the slide of his long, thick fingers reaching down, brushing directly against my drenched entrance.

​Lucian paused, letting out a dark, wicked chuckle against my skin. "Bitch, you’re wet."

​I swallowed hard, shame burning through me. Of course I was wet—my body was reacting on pure, involuntary instinct. All my life, I had only ever had sex once. The only other time I had ever been intimate with anyone had happened four years ago, and even that night existed in my memories as broken pieces. Poison. Fever. Darkness. A stranger whose face I couldn’t even fully recall. I was completely inexperienced, completely vulnerable.

​But this? I was completely aware of this.

​Before I could think about it any longer, two of his thick fingers pushed straight into my pussy.

​"Fuck!"

​My back arched off the mattress before I could stop myself.

​Lucian let out a low, ragged groan against my collarbone. "Fuck... you’re so tight."

​He didn’t wait. He leaned back down, burying his face into my chest to suck hard on my nipples while his fingers began to move inside me. He pushed in and pulled out, fucking me harder with his hand, stretching my tight walls.

​He released my wrists, and I should have used the opportunity to push him away. Instead, my hands flew up, landing instinctively on his broad shoulders.

​I knew I should have fought harder, bitten him, or slapped his face. And normally, I would have. But in that moment, as his fingers pumped inside my pussy and sent waves of liquid fire shooting straight through me, every bitter thought in my mind vanished. I was just a woman experiencing real pleasure for the first time with a clear mind, and my body was completely consumed by it.

​Lucian fucked me faster with his fingers, curling them inside me until I cried out. The pleasure was becoming too much. My hips lifted from the mattress without permission, chasing his hand every time he pulled away.

​Fuck.

​I was actually moving against his fingers now.

​What the hell was wrong with me?

​"Look at me. Open your eyes," he commanded roughly against my skin.

​I hesitated, but then I forced my eyes open, locking my gaze directly with his. His gray eyes held mine, wild, intense, and dark with pure lust. There was something almost frightening about the intensity in them. He didn’t break eye contact for a single second as he drove his fingers faster inside my dripping pussy, stretching me out, driving me out of my mind.

​My legs spread wider on their own, completely surrendering to the sensation. I whimpered loudly, my arms sliding up from his shoulders to lock around the back of his neck.

​Our faces were only inches apart. His breath touched my lips, and my heart went wild. In a moment of pure, clouded delirium, overwhelmed by the heat and the unbearable friction between my thighs, I forgot everything. I forgot Annabel. I forgot the lie. I forgot that this man hated the family he believed I belonged to. All I knew was that I wanted him closer.

​So I pulled his head down, reaching up to press my lips against his for a kiss.

​Lucian instantly jerked his head back. He stopped me cold.

​He pulled away so fast it felt like a slap to the face. My brows pulled together in confusion.

​My lips hovered in the empty air, and right then, the harsh, brutal reality crashed down on me.

​He didn’t want to kiss me.

​His mouth had been everywhere except the one place I suddenly wanted it. He was willing to touch me, willing to use his fingers to fuck my pussy and satisfy his sudden urge, but he would not kiss me. A sharp, stinging wave of disappointment, utter humiliation, and embarrassment burned through me.

​Lucian didn’t seem to care about the look on my face. He simply lowered his head back down to my chest, capturing my nipple once more as his fingers pumped relentlessly inside my wet heat.

​My heart felt heavy, but the pleasure was still crashing over me. Unable to stop myself, I gasped out between my ragged, desperate moans, "Kiss me..."

​That was a massive mistake.

​The moment the words left my mouth, Lucian froze. Completely.

​The movement of his fingers inside my pussy came to a dead stop. The heat against my chest disappeared as he slowly lifted his head.

​I looked up at him, my breath hitching. It was as if those two words had dragged him straight back to reality. Whatever dark, intoxicating spell had taken over his mind instantly shattered into a thousand pieces. The wild gray in his eyes receded, replacing itself with the cold, distant green I knew all too well. Reality had hit him just as hard as it had hit me.

​Without saying a single word, Lucian pulled his wet fingers out of me.

​He stood up beside the bed, his expression completely blank, devoid of any desire or heat, breathing heavily as he stared down at me. He stared at my trembling, naked body lying exposed on the sheets, his jaw clenched tightly.

​I quickly grabbed the blanket and pulled it tightly over myself.

​Neither of us spoke. I couldn’t even look at him anymore. How humiliating. A few minutes ago, I had been screaming at him to leave my room. Now I had just asked him to kiss me like a desperate whore. Brilliant, Olivia. Absolutely brilliant.

​I loosened my hands from the blanket slightly as I heard him take a step toward the door. My chest tightened.

​"Lucian?"

​He stopped. His back was to me.

​"Why did you stop?" I whispered.

​Silence filled the room. Then his shoulders stiffened.

​"This was a mistake."

​The words hit harder than they should have. I swallowed hard. "Right."

​He reached for the door handle. Something inside me snapped.

​"You were the one who came into my room!" I said, my voice shaking despite my best effort to control it. "You were the one who wouldn’t leave. You were the one who said you wanted me. And now suddenly it’s a mistake?"

​Lucian slowly looked over his shoulder. His face was cold again, but his eyes weren’t. That was what confused me. His eyes looked almost angry—not at me, but at himself.

​"This never happened, Annabel."

​Then he opened the door and left.