Lucien
When the cars drew up escorting his woman, it was past midnight.
Proserpina smiled as she stepped out daintily. She felt like she was in a reverse Cinderella situation!
And then, her breath caught as she saw him.
Illuminated by the lights on the porch, there stood her big, muscular husband. He was dressed in a charcoal grey formal suit, a tumbler in his hands, his men about him, hovering discreetly.
Yet even from this distance, she could feel his searing gaze upon her, the intensity of his eyes as he devoured her.
Her womanhood clenched in longing as she took in the virile, powerful stance of the man who owned her, body and soul.
But the waves of desire, of longing came crashing at her and she felt a longing to rush to him and throw her arms around his neck, to kiss him and surrender to him mindlessly.
But Proserpina did nothing of the sort.
Swinging her hips in the naturally seductive way she had, she took measured steps to reach the man who stood, watching her every move.
Lucien stood, frozen, watching her approach.
Just the sight of the small figure with the thrusting breasts, the jeans that hugged her rounded curvaceous ass, made his co*k jump up in anticipation.
He stood still as she came towards him. She stopped before him, her hair like a swirling, fragrant dark cloud, her moist plump lips parted invitingly.
"Lucien,' she said and her voice was full of uncertainty, her eyes held a shyness as he devoured her visually.
"The roses,' she whispered, 'I...Thank you.'
He wanted to take her then and there, with the door open, unheeding of his men around. But with a determined effort, he indicated to the man waiting at the door and they entered even as the door shut softly. Without touching her, he rasped,
"I wanted to ...Dinner is ready.'
She opened her eyes wide in some surprise.
She had expected him to sweep her into his arms; this man was polite and caring.
Almost like a stranger.
Smiling at him, Proserpina stepped forward and rising on her toes she said softly, kissing his hard mouth,
"I missed you. I love you.'
Lucien Delano took a harsh breath but he did not move. only his pale eyes lampooned her , his hunger evident in the way he studied her.
When he was about to speak, she shook her head gently, her fingers on his lips, caressing, stroking.
There was no need for him to say anything anymore.
She knew he cared.
It was enough for her.
He moved back, then taking her small hand in his, he led her inside.
Proserpina had never been here before and she drew in a breath of astonishment as she admired her surroundings.
One part of her was aware of the surroundings; the lake house was exquisitely designed with dim lights that seemed to ensure that one never grew unaware of the lake beyond the windows. The drapes were parted revealing the slope leading to the water dotted with small lights.
The twins would love it, she thought, smiling softly.
But the part of her that was alive with sensation, was focussed on her lover who was leading her to the dining table. Suddenly she stopped short in surprise.
There in the centre, was a long dining table made of dark wood , with ornate chairs arranged around it.
Candles had been placed and the table was set for two but it was the aroma of her favourite smoked fish and cream cheese which floated across, taking her by surprise. More flowers adorned the table and it looked so perfect, she wanted to weep.
She turned to him, the disbelief and the sense of wonder in her eyes as she looked at the man who had obviously not spared any effort to make her feel loved. In the only ways, he knew.
Tears pooling in her eyes, Proserpina looked at her husband.
"Lucien,' she murmured and walked to him.
With a snarl, he pulled her to him and kissed her, feeling her arms go around his neck, pulling him closer. With one hand, he touched her breasts, unbuttoning the trench coat that was so tantalising.
He lowered his mouth hungrily and held her as he kissed her, his tongue seeking, his hands like a band around her waist, slowly moving up to caress her breasts.
Finally, he lifted his head, eyes still hot with desire and touched her mouth with one thick finger.
'I missed you, woman. Don't leave me. Ever.'
The pleading in his voice was her undoing.
She pressed her body to his and said half teasing, nipping at his jaw, his mouth,
'Never, my Lord and Master.'
He grunted, and his hands eagerly roved over her body. The trench coat was unceremoniously discarded and he stood, staring at her breasts as they lifted and fell proudly with her heavy breaths, exposed to his greedy eyes. The short bustier that revealed her dark nipples, taut and waiting for his mouth to latch onto them, the small waist and her full hips seeming to invite him further.
He swept her into his arms with a groan and began to pull of her bustier. With a giggle, she pushed him away.
"Oh, no. caveman, you undo the buttons', she said teasing him.
Deliberately, she began to unbutton each one of the tiny buttons, taking her time with them. He watched, his eyes never leaving her hands while his cock hardened painfully, his heavy breathing evidence of how he was using all his self-control.
"Woman, don't tease me,' finally he growled hoarsely, pulling her hands to his pants making her aware of his erection.
But she stopped him, stepping forward and pressing her now exposed breasts to his chest, undoing his shirt with clever fingers. She licked his flat nipples lovingly, feeling the wetness pooling between her thighs, the eagerness to become his again rising like a well of longing in her.
It had been too long, she thought.
'The. Roses. Were. Wonderful. ' she whispered, her love in her eyes as she kissed his harsh mouth after each word.
He could not take it anymore. He propelled her to the couch and ordered,
"Wait here.'
She watched curiously as he walked to the bar, returning with a bottle of wine and a beautiful glass.
Puzzled, she raised her eyes to his,
"Lucien...? Wine? I...don't... drink..."
"Who said anything about you drinking it, little one," he mocked, his heavy eyebrow rising, eyes narrowing as he went on, growling commandingly,
'Take off those jeans before I tear them off your pretty ass.'
He became still when he saw her shaven pussy and she blushed.
But then, her pride reasserted itself when she saw the look of wonder on his face as he stared at her body.
She stood up, her large breasts swaying mesmerising him as she tugged off her jeans. She stood before him, naked in a matter of minutes, feeling absurdly shy.
Lucien came forward.
'Now undress me,' he said, his voice hoarse with lust as he raked his eyes over her curvaceous body.
She obeyed him, flicking him a glance from under her lashes, wondering what he was planning. His manhood reared, like a beast unleashed when she undressed him and she knelt before him, stroking and licking the thick, heavily veined member. Explorative, she kissed the tip, licking the pre-cum beading the tip of his thick, purple coc* and he snarled. It took an effort not to reach down and thrust himself into her willing mouth.
But with a look of entreaty, her dark eyes, wet with heat and longing, she took charge.
Her tongue tentatively swirled around his manhood, tasting, sliding her tongue along the slit, making him shudder. He had not slept with a woman in a long while; the only woman he wanted was the one kneeling before him, servicing his coc* and he felt as though the stars were exploding behind his eyelids as he groaned out.
She sucked him eagerly, pulling him into her mouth and his hips began to move of their own volition. But he had planned a lot more for the night and he wanted to be in control, he rocked himself for a while, enjoying the feel of her ministrations but then, with a hand on her head, he stopped her.
She looked up at him dazedly and he realised that she was close to coming. Smiling slightly, he helped her to her feet and guided her to the couch. Proserpina looked up at him, uncomprehendingly.
He pushed her down onto the large leather couch and she turned, longing to have him inside her. He saw her expression and laughed a thick laugh.
"No my little one," he said, "You have to learn to wait."
He gave a growl and bending down, supporting himself on his arms, he kissed her hungrily, his tongue plundering her mouth ruthlessly. She raised her hips helplessly, mutely begging him to take her. He touched her womanhood with two fingers, reveling in the swollen wetness, grunting in relish as she whimpered.
"Not yet, little one," he said, biting her nape and she moaned, trying to hold him in her arms, trying to guide his powerful member into her wetness.
But he reached out and taking the bottle of wine, poured it into the wineglass, watching her all the while. She looked confused, dazed and then, gave a gasp of arousal as he dipped a forefinger in the drink and painted her nipples, the rich red liquid coating her teats that puckered instantly, turning them firm and hard.
Lust made him impatient and he greedily swirled his tongue on one taut peak, licking and tugging gently at it. Proserpina was delirious with need, digging her nails into his hardback, murmuring his name, begging him for release.
"Not yet, sweetheart."
She moaned. Her lover was torturing her, punishing her for having left him.
He growled and sliding further down, he poured a small amount of the wine into her belly button. This time she cried out, clutching wildly at his head as he lapped up the liquid like a thirsty man and she bucked under him as his rough tongue lapped up the wine. She was now helpless with desire, her legs spread wide, unconscious of the totally abandoned pose she was in.
The creaminess between her legs was a reminder of how she was longing for him to take her.
"Not yet, little one," he crooned gruffly as she looked at him, pleading, "Please, Lucien, please."
When he poured it down her belly, following the trail of liquid into her sweet pussy she screamed as his tongue sucked her clit. He could taste the wine and then he could taste her saltiness and he felt the need to drive himself into her. Suddenly, she came, gushing uncontrollably, crying out his name and he lapped up the juices, holding her thighs apart as she held his head, her hips moving in a centuries-old rhythm helplessly. Wanting to punish her for the torment he had undergone, he nipped at her inner thighs and then kissed the reddening areas while she whimpered, totally at his mercy. When he sucked her clit, she was beyond any sensible thought.
Even as she finished the fierce orgasm, he sucked her hard, his tongue invading her womanhood and she cried, begging for respite. By now, Lucien was nearing the end of his control. His heavy balls were tight and his large coc* hurt from the control he had imposed on himself, pleasuring her before he took his pleasure from her. Placing the bottle aside, he reared up and thrust into her, without giving her a moment's respite, his need to enter her was too great. Pulling back as she moaned at the suddenness of his penetration, he entered, pounding again, and yet again. With every thrust, he heard her cry out as she came, repeatedly, calling out his name.
"I am going to fill your tight, wet little pus*y, Woman," he growled as he hammered into her, drowning in the helpless sounds she was making.
The sound of his balls slapping against her thighs, the deep breathing and the feel of the sweat-slick bodies uniting in an age-old ritual as he continued to ride her, biting her neck, her soft breasts, leaving his mark on her. His show of ownership over her made Proserpina's core muscles clamp around his member, milking him and he grunted, taken aback by the force of her orgasm. She cried out and soon, she was coming, as he pounded her, mercilessly, for he was like a beast in the throes of a passion he could not hold back, roaring hoarsely as he emptied his seed into her again.