Knight and Sleigh: An Erotic Lucien Knight Christmas Novella (2 page)

He had incredible power over Sophie, never more so than when he made love to her like this. He could switch from lethal to loving on a dime, and it was an incredible turn-on never to know what might happen next with him.
 

And true to form, just like that, his eyes snapped open and his mouth slid up over her mound as he reached for one of her hands and pulled her forwards into a sitting position. He moved with her, still on his knees between her thighs, his crotch now level with hers, his hands moving hot over her breasts. He was turned on. His cock told her so, hard and potent between her legs, and the dark glitter in his eyes told her so too; she knew that sinful, determined glow better than anyone. He was a man who liked to be in control in every area of his life, a principle he applied just as vigorously to his sex life as any other aspect.
 

‘What will I do when you make coffee, Sophie?’ he said, his body flush against hers from shoulder to hip.
 

It was genuinely difficult to gather her thoughts coherently.
 

‘Look at my ass,’ she managed to say, sliding her hands down over the solid wall of his chest. He was a strong man in every sense; he had a physical presence that made sure everyone knew he was there, and mentally he was the strongest man Sophie had ever known. He carried so much weight on his broad shoulders, but he made it look effortless.
 

‘That’s right. I’m going to look at your gorgeous ass and think about bending you over the kitchen table and fucking you really, really hard.’
 

Sophie’s eyes slid towards the kitchen doorway. She could see the table from where she sat and made a mental note to make sure she didn’t leave any fragile crockery on it. The practical thought made her smile inwardly. But it was a momentary distraction, as Lucien’s mesmerising voice persisted.
 

‘What am I going to do to you every time you’re close to me, Princess?’
 

She wanted him so badly that she couldn’t think back to what he’d said.
 

Instead, she tried, ‘Do you think you could put your hand back between my legs to help me remember?’
 

Lucien laughed softly. ‘What did we just say about waiting?’
 

Sophie popped the top button of his jeans, aching to speed forward to the moment when he touched her again.
 

‘If you need a clue, it involves your tits.’
 

He thumbed her nipples as he spoke, watching her eyes.
 

‘You’re going to lick my nipples whenever you’re near to me,’ she said, now remembering his earlier words, and he flicked an eyebrow up in acknowledgment and then lowered his head obligingly to her breasts to demonstrate.
 

‘Didn’t I tell you you were going to enjoy this?’
 

He licked first one of her nipples and then the other, kneading her breasts in his hands.
 

Sophie had never really been in doubt that she’d enjoy whatever Lucien had in store. He got off on pushing her up to her limits all of the time, yet he seemed instinctively to know where the final threshold was and never strayed beyond it.
 

Sophie cradled his head in her hands, riffling her fingers through his ash blond hair, her shoulders lifting almost around her ears in tight pleasure as he sucked her nipple into the warmth of his mouth, teasing her with the graze of his teeth. She already knew where their conversation was headed next.
 

‘Now. I seem to remember being taught always to show rather than tell as a child,’ he said, his mouth hot against her neck. ‘So stand up, bend over, and show me, Sophie.’
 

She closed her eyes for a second as he moved backwards to give her space enough to do as she was told. She loved this man to his big Viking bones, but he sure did like to get his own way.
 

He saw her hesitation.
 

‘Okay,’ he said, getting up off his knees and pulling her onto her feet by the hand with him.
 

‘Let me help you out. Let’s say I’m here, reading the newspaper, like this.’
 

He arranged himself on the sofa, legs crossed, one foot casually on his knee. Opening his invisible newspaper, he gave it a good shake.
 

‘Now let’s say… you’ve dropped one of your earrings,’ he said. ‘One of the diamond studs I gave you for your birthday.’
 

Sophie’s hands moved instinctively to her earlobes to confirm that the beautiful diamond studs she always wore were still actually there.
 

‘But you know I never take them out,’ she murmured, hyper-aware of her own nudity, knowing she was playing for time.
 

‘It’s a game,’ he said. ‘Play along. You know you dropped it somewhere quite close to the sofa.’
 

Sophie looked at him, still stroking her earrings absently. He was surveying her too, his eyes dark with lust, but his voice was still low and soft.
 

‘Wait. Hold it there for just one second,’ he said, and reached down the back of the sofa. When he straightened, he held a gift-wrapped box in his hands.
 

‘I was going to save these until tomorrow, but actually I think you should have them now.’
 

Sophie looked at the rectangular box in his hands, simply wrapped in brown paper embossed with silver reindeers. Remembering the game, she enquired,
 

‘Should I find my earring first?’
 

Lucien shook his head and handed her the gift.
 

‘Open it.’
 

Pulling the silver ribbons loose, Sophie slid her fingers under the edge of the paper, savouring the exciting moment of not knowing what he’d chosen for her. Lucien was a man of exquisite taste and he gave gifts with the same extravagance he’d given his heart, wholly and fully. The iconic swirl of writing across the pale box lid gave the game away early. Louboutin. Sighing with pleasure, Sophie lifted the lid
and revealed the black patent pumps with their signature glossy red soles and slender stiletto spike heels. They were shoes designed to make a woman feel sexy, and Lucien had chosen that moment to give them to her because he’d realised that the confidence boost would be welcome.
 

The distraction from the game had given her time to recover her poise, and she slid the shoes from the box and held them pleasurably.
 

‘Thank you, I love them,’ she said, bending to kiss his mouth. He lingered, playing with her hard, sensitive nipples.
 

‘Put them on,’ he said.
 

Sophie went to sit, but he shook his head.
 

‘No. Bend over to put them on.’
 

Ah. So that was the game. And she felt more than ready to play it now. Turning her back on Lucien, Sophie placed the shoes on the floor before her and stepped into the first one, bending slowly from the waist to run her finger around the inside and slide her foot in.
 

She heard him move a little on the sofa, and could almost hear his newspaper slowly lowering as she caught his attention.
 

Stepping slowly into the other shoe she repeated the performance, bending a little lower again as she adjusted it.
 

Standing up, she twirled slowly with one hand on her hip.
 

‘They’re a perfect fit,’ she said. ‘What do you think?’
 

Lucien’s gaze swept to her feet, resting there for a few intense moments before it scorched its way back up her body, taking in her flushed face and finally coming to rest on one earlobe.
 

‘I think you’ve lost your earring, Princess.’
 

She looked down, squinting hard at the floorboards and then back up at him through her lashes. He’d just given her Louboutins. What a way the man had of turning up the temperature. Well, she’d play this game out with pleasure. Extreme, bone-melting pleasure.
 

‘I can’t see it,’ she said reflectively. ‘I think I’m going to have to bend over and search, Lucien.’
 

She turned her back on him and slowly bent over. With anyone else, Sophie would have felt paralysing self-consciousness, but Lucien had schooled her well, making his appreciation of her womanly arts so clear that her sexual confidence peaked around him. The shoes definitely added to her self-assurance too.
 

‘It’s so tiny,’ she murmured provocatively, ‘I just can’t see it.’
 

‘I think you dropped it a little closer to where I’m sitting,’ he said.
 

Sophie didn’t miss the husky note to his voice, the one she knew meant he was extremely turned on. Straightening up, she stretched out her spine, her arms above her head to muss up her practically dry blonde waves and send them tumbling around her shoulders. He wanted a show. And she now felt very much like she wanted to show off, enjoying her nakedness, the added poise of her sexy heels, and most of all the effect she was having on Lucien.
 

Slowly, slowly, she bent again, her backside rounding out towards him, her hair falling in a curtain towards the floor. She heard him move, and a peep around her leg told her that he’d moved into the centre of the sofa to sit directly behind her.
 

‘Best seat in the house, Princess,’ he murmured.
 

Encouraged, Sophie ran her hand up the inside of her thigh as she scanned the floor, so caught up in their theatre that she almost expected to see the glint of diamond winking up at her.
 

‘I can’t see it yet,’ she said softly.
 

‘I can’t quite see it either, Sophie.’ Lucien moved to the edge of his seat, his voice steady but distinctly throaty now. ‘Open your legs a little wider.’
 

He made her blush, and he made her bold. She stepped her feet apart, feeling herself open a little for him.
 

‘What we’re looking for is really quite small and delicate,’ he said, soft and lethal. ‘It’s hidden, like treasure. You might need to use your fingers.’
 

Jeez. Sophie’s cheeks blazed with heat and it was nothing to do with the fire in the hearth. Moving her hands between her legs, she spread her lips for him, her fingers sliding in the slickness she found there.
 

‘That’s better,’ he said, on the edge of his seat now, his hands on her hips to steady her. ‘Bend even deeper, and open yourself even wider, Sophie.’
 

God, he was lewd and scandalously sexy. Sophie did as he’d asked, peeling her flesh open and rounding her ass towards him even more.
 

‘I think I see it,’ he said, massaging her hipbones in deep, firm circles.
 

'It’s beautiful. Like a pearl.’
 

Leaning forwards, he traced his tongue over the curve of her ass cheek.
 

‘Touch yourself. I want to watch.’
 

Behind her Sophie heard his jeans hit the floor, and knowing he was naked and liable to take over at any given second sent her light-headed with lust. Her fingers moved between her legs, touching, sliding, giving him the show he wanted and herself the pleasure she needed.
 

His hands moved from steadying her hips to stroking over her ass, his fingers moving down between her legs and then lower, plunging decisively inside her and then out again, making her gasp.
 

‘Don’t stop,’ he whispered.
 

‘Don’t you stop,’ she replied.
 

His fingers moved into her, slow, deliberate thrusts, pulling out to his fingertips before pushing deep inside her again.
 

‘Stand up.’
 

If he’d asked her to run down the mountain naked she would have. As it was she straightened slowly, and then paused when he slipped his fingers out of her and stood behind her with his palms flat over her hips, pressing against her body, his cock hard against the base of her back. His hands slid down between her legs, lifting her knee out to the side so he could take over where she’d left off.
 

‘I feel it,’ he said, wrapping his other arm around her to play with her nipples, his mouth on her ear. God, she felt it too.
 

‘I want you to make sure I can see your sweet, wet clit every time you bend over,’ he said, his hand working between her legs as he spoke.
 

‘Can you do that for me, Sophie?’
 

She’d do anything for him. Anything he asked. Beg, steal or borrow. She loved him with every atom of her being, but right now she wanted him even more. Turning in his arms, she wrapped her leg around his thigh, and in an instant he growled low and lifted her onto his waiting cock with one decisive slice.
 

‘Holy fuck, Princess,’ he murmured, holding her impaled. ‘Holy fuck.’
 

Wrapping her legs around him, Sophie kissed him hard and open mouthed, drunk and giddy with the overwhelming sensation and relief of being filled by him at last. All of her limbs entwined around him, gathering him in until they touched everywhere. His arms held her vice-tight, one hand on her ass and the other in her hair. His neck was warm, his pulse vital beneath her lips when she buried her face
there, eyes closed, breathing painfully fast because she suddenly needed to come way more than she needed oxygen.
 

‘Harder,’ she whispered, and he walked with her until her back pressed against the wall, imprisoning her with his chest.
 

‘Harder?’ he asked, a formality, because he’d already pushed the thickness of his cock even deeper inside her, grinding his hips into hers as he bit down on her lip.
 

‘Oh God.’
 

Sophie wound her arms around his broad, hard shoulders and clasped him to her, the spike heels of her Louboutins resting against the firmness of Lucien’s ass where she linked her ankles.