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musings-of-a-rose · 2 months

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Not Without You

Pairing: Lucien Flores x f!reader (nickname: Poppy)

Word Count: 2800+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: Listen. I saw that clip of him making out in The Uninvited. That's it. That's the explanation. This is not betad. This one is for the sluts.

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Lucien Masterlist

--------

I get out of my car, staring up at the ridiculous mansion in front of me. The sound of the ocean, just out of sight behind the giant home, is soft and gentle in my ears, calming me. Giving me a little mental boost before I sigh, smoothing down my dress. I make my way to the front door, weaving between a few cars that were parked out front. Expensive cars.

It's not that I'm jealous of my childhood friend. Emilia deserves to be happy and she's happy that she married money. Some fancy producer out here in LA that fell for her big eyes and bright smile the second he saw her.

But that doesn't mean I wanted to come to one of her dinner parties, having to schmooze and pretend to be interested in what everyone has to say. I've been here before, met the people, fucked the party boy actor that eventually broke me, and yet here I am, unable to say no to Emilia.

I raise my hand to knock, dreading what the evening will bring but the door flies open before my knuckles touch anything. Emilia stands before me, a few rollers still in her hair, stress all over her body.

"Poppy, you're early! Thank GOD!" She pulls me inside and hugs me, the door closing heavy behind me.

"I always come early because you need me," I smile as she chuckles, lightly punching my arm. "What can I do to help?"

"You're angel, I swear! Can you make sure the table settings are right? There's extra silverware in the-"

"I know, Emilia. Everything like normal?" I'd been to so many of her parties, I know exactly what the set up is.

She nods, her smile growing wider. "Keep it simple and classy. You know me!"

I nod. "So what kind of party is this one? Another schmooze for Mr.?"

She waves her hand. "Yeah something like that. He's meeting with a bunch of actors for some upcoming project. He's hand selected them."

"Cool."

Emilia thanks me again before running off to finish getting ready. I pause for a moment, looking around trying to remember where the dining room is. I head down the hall and into what I think is the dining room. It turns out I remembered correctly, my eyes roaming over the table and making small adjustments to the settings already there. I end up pulling out more silverware, fixing them to Emilia's standards. I hate that I know this stuff, but I've saved her ass more times than I can count at these things so it helps to know what to expect.

As I work, my mind goes back to all the parties past. The ones she brought me to when she first started dating the producer several years ago. She had been so nervous, as if the producer wasn't already head over heels for her. That's where I met-

No. Not going down that road again. I can't do that to myself.

I shake my head and finish the settings, adding some minor touches to the decorations and finally lighting the candles. A knock at the door brings me out of my head and I walk over to answer it. An older gentleman stands there, putting out a cigarette with his shoe. He introduces himself as the director. What an ego.

Several people arrive after him, a mix of actors and a screenwriter. They all mingle in the sitting room for a few minutes before Emilia and the producer make their way in, everyone doing introductions.

The producer claps his hands together, looking around. "We're still missing one, but I doubt he'd mind us getting started. Who's hungry?"

Everyone gives their approval but as they move towards the dining room, a knock raps on the front door.

"That should be him. Guess I tried to start too soon!" Polite laughter at the producer as Emilia moves to answer the door, a quick glance in my direction before she disappears down the hall. The producer is telling some little story about a prior movie he was involved in, one I've heard a zillion times. But his story is short and he motions behind me.

"Just in time! We were about to eat. Welcome, Lucien."

My back stiffens. The room starts to spin my chest heaving. He didn't say Lucien. Did he? Maybe it was another Lucien. It couldn't be my Lucien? No. He's not my Lucien. He made that very clear when he wanted to continue partying and I wanted to settle down.

"Perfect! I'm starving."

Fuck. There was no mistaking that voice, the one that sets my skin ablaze, makes warmth pool between my thighs, the one that told me he needed to focus on his career and couldn't be with me. Not in the way I wanted him.

A small hand on my elbow squeezes me and I know it's Emilia, gently guiding me towards the dining room.

"I'm sorry, Poppy. He invited him and I didn't make the connection until the last minute."

"You couldn't have given me a heads up?" I yank my arm from her grip and swallow hard. I can't let him see how he makes me feel. He doesn't deserve that. I turn, letting the others file past me until he stops in front of me.

"Poppy. I..I didn't know you'd be here."

I'm determined to show him how much better off I am, that he means nothing to me now. I look up into his eyes and all of my resolve goes completely out the window. Were his eyes always that big? That round? So soft? I want to yank him to me by the thin chain around his neck, press my lips to his and never let go.

Way to show him, Poppy.

"I didn't know you'd be here either."

A silence stretches between us, a heavy, loaded silence. His eyes soften the longer he looks at me and is that regret I see? No. I'm projecting. But then he offers me his arm, taking me completely by surprise.

"We can be adults. Shall we?"

Don't do it. Don't take his arm, Poppy. Don't do it, don't do it, don't-

My fingers close on his offered up arm. "I'm sure this is a great opportunity for you."

Fuck, he's still warm. His skin smooth where my fingers touch him. Way to go, Poppy.

He escorts me into the dining room and I feel Emilia's eyes glued to us. He pulls out my chair and I sit, him scooting the chair in behind me before walking around the table, looking for his name card. Which was conveniently placed directly across from mine.

The producer clears his throat after everyone sits and starts making some speech about the project, about handpicking everyone here, blah blah blah. I zone out, trying to use my peripheral to steal glances at him. It's been several years since that night we split, the yelling match that had devolved into quite possibly the hottest sex I'd ever had. No, don't think about that. I need a better look so I turn my head to take a drink and chance a glance at him, only to find him already looking at me, still with the soft eyes. I nearly choke on my drink, managing to swallow it and clear my throat.

He finishes his speech and everyone claps politely, starting to eat and talk amongst themselves. I sit, deciding to choose silence while eating but then Lucien looks directly at me.

"So, what do you think?"

"Uh what?"

Fuck him with those big, stupid eyes.

He gestures towards the producer with his fork. "The project."

"Oh. Well I'm not involved so," I shrug. "I'm just here for Emilia."

He chuckles. "How many rollers were in her hair this time?"

I laugh, my body betraying me. "Four."

"But seriously. A good project?"

"I think..I think it's an honor he hand picked you. I'm not sure what the project itself is, but I'm sure it would be great for your career."

His eyes study my face as I take a bite of my food. "It's not always about the career though."

Anger surges up through me. "Isn't it?"

"How are we doing over here?" Emilia had walked up, cutting off whatever Lucien was about to say to defend himself.

"Great, Em. I'm just going to get something from the kitchen." I set my napkin on the table and push my chair back, Emilia giving me the smallest squeeze to my arm before I turn and head into the kitchen, the door closing behind me and effectively cutting off the sounds of the dinner party.

I lean over the kitchen island, my hands splayed out over the cool marble, trying to calm myself down. I hear the door open, the chatter from the party momentarily loud again before the door swings shut and it's quiet again.

"Em, I'm fine. Really. He just...caught me by surprise. I can hold it in."

"What if I don't want you to hold it in?"

My head snaps up, meeting his gaze, embarrassment making my skin heat up. "Oh. I thought you were Emilia."

Lucien takes a few steps towards me, the light glinting off the thing chain around his neck. "You didn't answer my question."

I stand up straight, crossing my arms. "We've done this dance before, Lucien. It didn't end well."

He smirks and I want to slap him. "I think it ended just fine. In the doorway, on the floor, in the front yard. I had to move my neighbors were too jealous."

My body betrays me with a small smile at the memory but then I reign it in. "I'm still not paying for that end table."

He's closer now. When did he move closer? Almost close enough to touch. His voice is low and raspy. "I'd destroy every end table on this planet if it meant having you under me again."

Fuck. Me.

I turn away from him, not giving him the pleasure of seeing what he does to me. "Flattering. But you made it very clear I was not number one in your life."

"I was stupid. I guess I needed to prove to you, to myself, that I could actually do this acting thing."

Finally composing myself, I turn to face him. "And how'd that work out for you?"

His eyebrows furrow together. "Have you not seen any of my films?"

I had. I had seen them all. I know I shouldn't have, that it wasn't helping me get over him. But Lucien has this pull, this hold on me I've never been able to fully shake.

"Some. But I'm asking your opinion. Off camera."

His jaw ticks a moment before he takes a swig from the glass I only just realized he was holding. "It brought me here."

I scoff. "Yeah, the producer hand picking you is actually a very high honor. I'd be-"

"No, you misunderstand." He shakes his head and sets his glass down on the counter. "I lied earlier."

It was my turn to furrow my eyebrows. "When? You've lied to me a lot."

"Earlier, when I said I didn't know you'd be here. I knew, well...more like hoped you'd be here. Knew it was a long shot but the only way you'd talk to me again."

My heart was racing, nearly bouncing out of my chest as he takes another few steps right into my personal bubble, my lower back against the counter. "I already told you I'm not replacing that end table."

He's right in front of me, the warmth from his body radiating onto mine. "I was a fool, Poppy. I..I love you."

I've waited years to hear him say those words to me again, to hear him actually mean them. To hear them not sandwiched between things like "but I have to focus on my career".

His lips are so close to mine, his breath fanning over my face.

"You broke my heart, Lucien."

"I know. I'm sorry. Let me put it back together."

"Lucien, I-" but he cuts me off with the softest touch of his lips I've ever felt, a whole slew of emotions flooding my body, including the one pooling between my legs.

"I can't do this without you, Poppy."

"Do this?"

"Life. I don't want to do it without you."

Fuck.

I grip that chain around his neck and pull him to me, our lips crashing together, his body pressing into mine. But then the counter scrapes across my spine and I jolt, breaking the kiss to gasp in pain. Lucien steps back, offering me his hand.

"Let's go somewhere where we won't break the furniture."

I shouldn't take his hand. I can still back out. But a small voice in the back of my head believes that he means it. That he wants a life with me, wants what I wanted all those years ago. And right now, I'm letting that voice win. I take his hand and he smiles, that smile that makes me feel like I'm the only person in the world. He guides me out the back door, past the pool, past the changing tents between the pool and the beach, and down the walkway alongside the neighbors cement wall that leads down to the beach.

He spins me and I laugh, tasting the salty ocean air on my tongue. I back up towards the wall and he follows me, lowering himself to my level. His large hands wrap around my hips, gliding down to cup my ass, and I moan into his kiss, my hand gripping his shirt to pull him closer to me. He kisses me, his tongue sliding into my mouth like it had so many times before. One hand still firmly on my ass, the other slides up my side, cupping my face so tenderly, full of love. He pulls back slightly and looks at me, like he's shocked I'm really here. That he's really kissing me.

"I love you, Poppy. I never should have let you go."

"Then don't let me go. I've always been yours."

He kisses me again, his hips pressing into mine and I can feel him hard, my cunt desperately throbbing, begging to feel him inside me again. Somewhere in my haze of desire, I hear myself begging, whispering pleas in his ear to take me, that I need him inside me before I die. His hands slide my dress up my thighs, reaching under and ripping my underwear in two, tucking them into his pocket. He had ruined so many good pairs of my underwear that way, but I honestly couldn't care less. My fingers fumble with his zipper, but I manage to get it down, reaching in to grip him, a sharp intake of breath when my fingers close around him, pumping him a few times. His hands slide under my ass, lifting me up as he presses me against the wall. He slides into me and the world stops moving, colors are brighter, and I finally feel right, like I'm actually here on this planet. Every thrust of his hips brings him deeper into me, holding me here, holding me to him. His breath comes out in short pants, desperate pleas of love and apologies between our moans as he fucks me against the wall.

And then the light blooming inside me breaks, my head pushing back, my nails digging into his skin, my entire body tingling as pleasure radiates out from where we connect. Lucien follows suit, moaning my name as he spills himself inside of me, pushing as deep as he can. We stay like that for a moment, trying to catch our breaths.

"I want to stay inside of you but my legs are fucking shaking."

I laugh and he yelps, quickly trying to pull out of me as my laughter contracts my body around him. He sets me on the ground and zips his pants as I smoothe out my dress, my laughter slowly fading. I look at him and he looks back at me, his eyes still soft and gentle. He tucks some hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek again.

"I wasn't kidding, Poppy. I was fucking stupied before. I need you next to me. When we're together, I feel...right. like I belong here. I don't think I can face this life without you."

I know it's a possibility this will end the same way it did before, but something in his eyes is different this time. He's had time to think, time to experience life without someone with him. Without me. He's grown, matured - well, matured some at least. But do I want to open my heart back up to him? Knowing that he could shatter it again at any moment?

"I'm still not replacing that end table."

He smiles and it lights up my entire world. "That's ok. I have plenty more furniture we can ruin with our love."

-------

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musings-of-a-rose · 3 months

Text

Pairing: Lucien Flores x f!reader

Word Count: 5700+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Notes: I know. We have 2 pictures and a one-sentence movie description. And yet, here I am, being a slut for this man’s characters. @rhoorl, this is for you!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

→Tell Tumblr this should be shared with others by reblogging! That's what the algorithm loves (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Lucien Flores Masterlist

Great. Another dinner party. I swear my roommate is trying to kill me.

“Come on. It'll be fun, Decaf!”

“You know I hate that nickname, right?”

Claudia chuckles, reaching out to squeeze my arm. “Then stop being so-” she gestures with her free hand “-blah.”

“Ouch.”

Claudia sighs. “You know what I mean. Ever since Dan you just haven’t been..the same.”

I stiffen at the mention of my ex’s name. “He put me through hell, Claudia.”

She nods, placing her hand back on my arm in a placating gesture. “No, of course! He was an asshole! But you shouldn’t stop living your life because of him.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, exhaling loudly. “I know that. But I just…need some time. And having a dinner party every other weekend is not helping.”

She blows a raspberry with her tongue. “You know you love my parties. Besides, they help you loosen up.”

They don’t. I pretend to drink while my friends get drunk, eventually leaving when the party gets too much to handle. It’s not that they’re mean or anything. I just don’t enjoy being the only sober person in a room full of inebriated people.

“And besides, Marcos specifically requested your famous tiramisu for dessert!” She gives me a pointed look, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“I don’t-”

“We can go shopping tonight! Maybe Marcos can come over to uh, help.” She winks at me, and that smirk finally pops up.

“I’ll make the dessert but I’m not going. I mean it this time, Claudia.”

I sigh, looking at my reflection in the mirror as I smooth down my simple black dress. I say no and somehow I always end up going. How does she do that?

The doorbell rings and I hear the faint excited tone of Claudia welcoming someone in. I do one last quick hair check and force a smile on my face, taking a moment to look in the mirror to make sure it doesn’t look too forced before I head downstairs, closing my door behind me.

“Decaf! There you are! Marcos is in the kitchen. Why don’t you help him with the wine he brought?” Claudia turns to put Marcos’s coat and umbrella on the coat stand, Marcos anticipating the rain that’s forecasted to come at some point.

“Wine isn’t really my-”

“There she is!” Marcos pops his head out of the kitchen, flashing me a brilliant smile. “Could you get the wine opener for me?”

Fake smile affixed, I nod. “Sure.” I follow him into the kitchen, turning to glare at Claudia over my shoulder who smiles and gestures towards Marcos before turning back to answer the next knock at the door.

I grab the automatic wine opener from the drawer, Marcos smiling at me as I hold it up. “Thanks so much, D!” Well, at least it was better than Decaf. Even though I knew he knew where the opener was.

“Of course. Do you remember how to work this thing?”

“I think so.” He takes the wine opener from me, gently brushing his fingers against mine in a not so subtle hint of flirting. He affixes the opener on the bottle and presses the button, watching as the electric opener does its thing.

It’s not that I don’t like Marcos. He’s attractive, nice, deep hazel eyes, and obviously likes me. He’s smart too, starting up his own bio med tech company with just an idea and a promise. I could be content with him, I guess. If it wasn’t for this odd feeling at the back of my brain about him, something I could never pinpoint exactly. Even so, I’m just not attracted to him no matter how hard I tried. And I promised myself after Dan that I wouldn’t settle just so I didn’t feel lonely anymore.

“You look beautiful tonight, D. That dress fits you perfectly.”

I smile, knowing it doesn’t quite reach my eyes. “Thanks, Marcos. How’s work? The prototype coming along?”

He smiles and launches into a long winded explanation of what exactly was going on as he follows me around the kitchen, helping me set the food on the table while Claudia pours wine and passes out hors d'oeuvres for the other guests - there are about 12 of us total. He’s cute when he talks so passionately, but again I don’t feel any connection. And the feeling at the back of my brain scratches at me again, but I push it down, putting another smile on my face.

Dinner starts, an appetizer of vegetable soup ladeled into bowls. Claudia is every bit the chef her mother is and more, making even the simplest dishes delectable. When the roast comes, a recipe passed down several generations in her family, another knock raps at the door. Claudia looks around at everyone, mentally counting before looking at me, her eyebrows raised in a are you expecting someone? Question. I shake my head, Claudia starting to push her chair back but I stand, placing my napkin on the side of my plate.

“I got it, Claud.”

Conversations resume behind me as I leave the room, walking down the hall to the front door. A quick glance out of the peephole shows me a man, silky button up shirt with a print of random brushes strokes stretching across his broad shoulders as he puts a cigarette out on the front steps, pushing his shoe into it. I slide the lock back and crack the door open, his eyes snapping up to my face and the air rushes from my lungs when I meet his gaze. Dark brown eyes bore into mine and he cocks his head slightly to the side, smiling slightly. Oh shit is he wearing two chains?

“Good evening, miss.”

Oh shit I hadn’t said a word.

“Oh. Uh, hi. Can I help you?”

He smiles a little wider, tossing his thumb over his shoulder. “My car stalled and my phone is dead. Could I come in and call someone?”

I don’t entirely believe his story, but something in his eyes makes my brain go fuzzy and a warmth I haven’t felt in a long time start between my legs.

“S-sure. Come on in.” I open the door wider and he smiles at me, nodding as he walks past.

“Thanks. I wasn’t sure anyone would be home. Seems a lot of people are away for the weekend.”

“Oh not really. People around here don’t actually live here. It’s their second homes.” In fact, ours was Claudia’s parent’s second home. Which is the only way I could afford a place this nice.

“Ah. That makes sense.” We stand in the entryway, his eyes scanning my face with that little smile still playing at his lips. It’s several long moments before I realize I’m the one who should be talking.

“Oh! Uh, can I take your coat….” It’s then I realize he doesn’t have one, not even carrying one.

He chuckles. “I think I’m good. But thank you for the offer.” The lights hit the chains around his neck and I swallow hard, wondering what it would be like to feel those chains smack me in the face over and over and-

Laughter erupts from the dining hall and..oh shit I never asked his name.

I tell him my name. “But you can call me D.”

“What’s that short for?”

“I…don’t want to say.”

“That bad, huh? I’ve had some bad nicknames in my time.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. But my name is Lucien.” He extends his hand and I shake it, melting internally as I feel how large his hand his, how warm, and my brain wanders away on the thot train of exactly what I want those hands to do. Another round of laughter from the dining room breaks my trance and I give my head a little shake, dropping his hand.

“Dinner party,” I gesture down the hall towards the dining room.

“Ah. I thought you just dressed beautifully for fun.”

I can feel the heat in my cheeks and I glance away, tucking hair behind my ear before looking back at him. “I uh…you said your phone is dead?”

“Oh. Yeah.” He pulls it from his pocket, turning it to show me the blank screen.

“I have a charger. Come, I’ll let you use it and then you can come have some food if you’d like?”

“Oh I don’t want to impose.”

“It’s no bother. Really.” I let my hand rest on his arm, giving it a small squeeze. Who even am I right now?

His eyes flick between mine before he nods. “Lead the way.”

I yell to Claudia that I’m getting my charger and she doesn’t question it, diving right back into whatever story she’s telling as I lead Lucien up the stairs. To my bedroom. What am I doing right now? Before I can think further, I’m at my door, opening the handle and crossing to my night stand, pulling the end out of my own phone and extending my hand. “Here. Let me charge it for you.”

He hesitates a moment before placing his phone in my hand. “I appreciate it, D.”

I plug in his phone and open mine. “Do you have a preferred mechanic?”

“For what?”

“Y-your car?”

“Oh! Right! Uh sure. Can I just?” He makes to grab my phone and I let him, hiding a smirk when I notice that the tips of his ears are red. He taps away at my phone and holds it up to his ear, ordering a mechanic to his car.

“Hey, what neighborhood is this?”

“Destiny Falls.”

“Destiny Falls….great…thanks.” He taps the screen and hands me back my phone. “Thanks.”

I take the phone from him, feeling his fingers touch mine, a chill running down my arm and straight between my legs. “N-no worries.”

He stares at me for a long moment, his eyes moving down my body and back up. “You mentioned dinner?”

“Shit! Sorry! Yeah, uh this way.”

He follows me back out and down the stairs. I can feel his eyes on my ass and so I put an extra emphasis on my walk, an extra sway in my hips and I swear I hear a small groan coming from him.

“Hhhm?” I ask.

“What? Oh, I uh, I’m hungry.”

I open the door to the dining room, Lucien following me in. Everyone turns their heads to look, Claudia’s eyes moving furiously between us both before she stands. “Who’s this, Decaf?”

I widen my eyes at her, willing her to never use that nickname again. “This is Lucien. His car broke down a couple blocks away and no one else is home. His phone died so he couldn’t call anyone. He’s going to wait here for the mechanic.”

Lucien holds up his hand. “Hi. Thank you for allowing me into your home.”

Claudia smiles, waving him up. “Of course! Are you hungry? Let me get you a plate.”

“Oh I don’t want to impose.”

“Nonsense! Decaf, could you get him a plate and a chair? Marcos, scootch down a bit and we can put Lucien’s chair at the end.”

I look over at Marcos, who’s eyes are narrowed at Lucien, a hard look in them.

Men.

I roll my eyes and turn towards the kitchen, motioning for Lucien to follow me. “Come on. I need those hands.” It’s not until we’re in the kitchen when I realize what I said.

“So. You need my hands, doll?”

“I meant for the chair, but we’ll see if I can find another use for them.” What the fuck did I just say?

He chuckles, his eyes darkening. “I’m sure you’ll find me more than willing to help with whatever you want me for.”

Fuck, he’s looking at me and he has to know what he said. Lucien takes a few steps towards me, stepping inside the comfortable distance between strangers. Does he know that the heat between my thighs is almost unbearable at this point? I’m tempted to get him seated and go take care of myself before I get into trouble.

“I-”

“Hey, D. Need any help?” Marcos had come through the door. I jump back, startled. Why do I feel guilty? I don’t owe Marcos anything.

“Hey Marcos. No, I think we got it.”

“Here, Lucien. Let me show you where the spare chairs are.”

Lucien looks down at me and winks before following Marcos. “After you.”

I make Lucien a plate of food and bring it out to the table, the conversation still moving forward. I set the plate down and go back to the kitchen to get him a drink when I hear raised voices from the back storage closet where the chairs are. I can’t make it out but they’re definitely arguing.

Ugh, men.

Then the storage room door pops open and Lucien exits, carrying a chair. The look on his face is hard, anger etching into his face, but then he sees me and it disappears immediately, giving me a smile. “Got the chair.”

He walks towards me as Marcos takes a moment to close the door. “Everything ok, guys?”

“We’re great, D.”

“Because it sounded like you were fighting.”

“Nope. All good.” Marcos’s voice was flat, not his normal charismatic, charming tone he uses to win everyone over. I don’t believe him but it’s not the time to press him.

Lucien sits at the table and everyone starts asking him questions, his face animatedly answering all of them. The conversation pauses, everyone stopping to drink or eat or talk between themselves. Lucien shifts in his chair beside me, his leg brushing against mine and I gasp, trying to hide it as a small cough. But the twinkle in his eye tells me he heard me and knew exactly what I did. Not even the glare from Marcos at Lucien could ruin the mood for me. Lucien presses his leg into mine further, taking a sip of wine as he cracks a joke and everyone laughs, the ring on his pointer finger sparkling in the light from the chandelier. I can’t take it any more, the throbbing between my thighs is so intense I swear everyone can hear it. I need to get out of the room.

“Excuse me. I’ll uh…I’ll go check on your phone.” I hastily stand, pushing my chair back.

“Do you want help, D?” Marcos asks, halfway to standing himself.

“No! Uh, no. I can check a phone myself, thanks.”

I walk calmly from the room, waiting until the door closes behind me before I take the stairs 2 at a time, closing my bedroom door behind me and pressing my back against it, feeling the coolness of the wood seep through my thin dress, but it does nothing to dull the ache between my legs. I sit on my bed next to my night stand, legs on the floor and put my hands over my face. Get it together. A quiet knock makes me jerk and snap my head up, moving my hands just enough to speak.

“Who is it?”

“Lucien.”

Shit.

“What can I do for you?”

“I uh, just need to check on my phone?”

Oh right.

“Come on in.”

As Lucien opens the door, I lean back slightly, placing my arms behind me and lean on them. Lucien gently closes the door and crosses the room, his pant leg brushing against my bare knee as he reaches for his phone and presses the power button, light shining in his face. I press my thighs together in what I hope is an inconspicuous manner.

“Only 15%. This phone takes forever to charge. Do you mind if I charge it a little more?”

“Not at all.”

“Thanks.” He sets the phone down and turns his head to look at me, his eyes flicking to my thighs that are currently jammed together so tight even water couldn’t get through them.

“Let me help you with your problem.”

I swallow hard. “P-problem?”

“Yes. Your problem.”

“I..I don’t have…” I lose all track of what I was going to say as his eyes darken, slowly raking over my body before landing on my own darkened gaze, smirking at me.

“I’m an excellent…helper.”

“I..I d-don’t have a p-problem.”

“No?”

I shake my head, not even convincing myself. But then my voice catches in my throat as he gets on his knees in front of me, his fingers gently swirling a random pattern across my knees and lower thighs. My skin sears where he touches me, and I can feel how soaked I’m getting. He gently wraps his hands around my knees and slowly pushes them open, the cool air not doing much to cool me down. My chest heaves as his eyes move up my legs, his gaze disappearing under my shortened dress, honing in on where I need him.

“I think I found your problem.”

“Y-yeah?”

He slowly slides his hand up my thigh, my breath coming out in little spurts the higher he gets. His hand disappears under my dress and then I feel him, his finger sliding up the middle of me still over my underwear and my hips jolt, immediately betraying all sense of logic in my brain, the side of me that’s screaming this is a stranger!

“Good news. I can help fix your problem.”

“Y-you can?”

“Do you want me to?”

I’m still propped up on my elbows, gazing down at this man who is kneeling between my legs, hand up my dress, rubbing tiny circles into my inner thigh with the tip of his finger, his eyes nearly black with lust, my logic side screaming at me to tell him no, to tell him to stop, to play it safe.

But I’m tired of being called Decaf.

“Yes.”

He smirks, sliding his hands up further, fingers pinching the fabric of my panties before he slides them down and off, tossing them behind him without looking. He gently places my legs over his shoulders, pushing my thighs open wider with his broad shoulders.

“Show me,” he says it calmly, but it’s also commanding and I shiver.

I grip the bottom of my dress and pull it up over my hips, exposing myself to him. His eyes move to stare at my cunt, darkening the rest of the way. He moves his fingers to spread me and I gasp at his touch as he takes me all in.

“Fuck!” I yell out as he quickly dips his head and licks up the center of me, his tongue curling around the bundle of nerves. My thighs try to jam against his head but he is so damn broad that all they do is weakly twitch against his shoulders as he works me open with his mouth, moaning into my cunt.

“Oh shit, oh fuck, I-” words tumble from me in an incoherent jumble. I feel one of his thick fingers swirling around my entrance before he pushes it all the way in, the cool metal of his ring brushing against my skin. My mouth is open in a silent scream, but then he pulls his finger out, adding another, his head lifted to watch as he fucks me with his fingers, the lewd squelches filling the quiet room.

He moves his head back down, gently sucking on my clit and my fingers fly to his head, twisting into his beautiful curls and gripping it as I moan his name, his fingers curling inside of me, slowly stroking at that spot. I can feel myself tightening, pulsing around his fingers as he pushes me closer to the edge. But then he pulls his hand out, his mouth leaving me and I huff.

“What the fu-”

He stands, undoing the buttons on his shirt before taking it off, tossing it on the floor. He’s not 6 pack fit but he’s trim, a small tummy poking out by his pant line that I desperately want to bite. His large hands work open his pants and before I know it, he springs free, heavy and ready.

“Take off your dress.”

It takes me a moment to tear my eyes away from him, nearly ripping my dress in half in my haste to rid myself of it. I unlatch my bra too, tossing it wherever it lands. Lucien pushes my legs open, settling himself between my thighs, pressing his chest against mine. I think he’s going to say something but then all words leave my brain as he pushes inside of me, splitting me open, hand clasped over my mouth as I scream into it, hands flailing around simply because I don’t know what to do with them. He burns me slightly from the stretch but I don’t even care. He bottoms out and just sits there a few moments, his own chest heaving with self-restraint.

Without pulling out, he thrusts further in, pressing at a spot inside of me I didn’t even know existed. A whiny yelp escapes me before his hand clamps over my mouth again, his eyes finding mine as he continues this slow assault. He tentatively removes his hand, my mouth hanging open as jolt of pleasure radiates out from my cunt with every thrust of his hips.

“Do you want me to fuck you into this bed, doll?”

I nod frantically, my hands gripping his ass in an attempt to move him faster.

“Tell me.”

“Please. Please Lucien, fuck me into my bed I-” he clamps his hand over my mouth again, his hips picking up to a rapid pace as he fucks into me, lifting my leg over his hip to change the angle. Then he somehow gathers my flailing hands in one of his large ones, pinning them into the bed above my head as he continues to snap his hips into mine, each thrust driving me rapidly towards the edge he had already brought me to earlier. The thin chains he wore brush against my face with every thrust, and I moan into his hand.

And then I fling myself over the edge, each thrust of his hips carrying me further and further into this bliss. I’ve never experienced this, not in this way, not this intense, rolling waves of pleasure pulsing over my entire body. I feel his hand loosen their grip, no longer over my mouth and they squeeze my hips, flipping me over so quickly my head spins slightly. I bury my face in my blankets and moan as he thrusts into me, his fingers digging into my hips as he sets a rapid pace, pushing my back down to curve my ass up further. To my surprise, I feel one of his hands snake around me, finding my clit and applying the perfect touch, perfect amount of pressure as he drives me towards the edge again at a rapid pace. He pulls me up, my back flush against his chest, his arm wrapping around me to continue touching me while the other holds my hair tightly and I come, his name gasping from my lips as I feel his hips sputter against me, a mix of hard and soft grunts in my ear before he loosens his fingers, letting me drop back to my hands.

He pulls out with a grunt and I immediately feel light, empty, and a little sore but in a good way. He looks at me and I point to my en suite bathroom, still trying to catch my breath. He disappears for several moments before coming back out, a wet washcloth in hand. He looks at me, still in the same position he left me in and moves behind me, pressing the cloth to my sensitive skin. I twitch and hear a low chuckle as he continues to clean me up. He helps me lay on my back, his finger tracing circles around my nippple before giving it a little pinch.

“We better get back to your party.”

“My what?” I’d completely forgotten there even was a dinner party happening. He laughs, his hand resting on my stomach.

“Your dinner party. Surely your friends will wonder where you are.”

“Maybe. Or we could just stay here, naked, and see what happens?”

His eyes darken again and he leans forward, pulling a boob into his mouth and sucking on it. I gasp but then he drops it, sitting back up.

“As much as I’d love that, we should probably get back downstairs.”

I’m hurt, but he’s right. Soon enough my friends would send a search party. And I don’t want any of them to see this complete stranger, balls deep inside of me. Although if you asked me when he was actually balls deep, I wouldn’t have cared at all.

Lucien dresses first and heads back downstairs, winking at me before he closes the door. I quickly rinse off, careful not to wet my hair before trying to fix it to what it was before. I smooth down my dress and hope no one notices the difference. I decide to check the power on his phone before I head down, just to give him an update, expecting it to not be any higher than maybe 20%. But when I light the screen up, my eyebrows furrow together. It was fully charged. Why did he lie? Was it just to fuck me? I wouldn’t have cared if his phone was fully charged.

I take it from the charger and head back downstairs, sounds of laughter echoing up the stairwell. I sneak in through the back door, grabbing another bottle of wine on my way in as an excuse for taking so long. I realize I have no idea how much time I’d spent upstairs, but people were just finishing eating, so it couldn’t have been too long.

I feel eyes on me, but none more than Marcos. His eyes bore into me, hardening the longer he looks at me. He glances between Lucien and me as I hand him his phone, a look of realization settling into his features. Before I can say anything he abruptly stands up, mumbling something about a cigarette break before heading out on the back porch. A moment passes and Lucien pats his pockets, asking Claudia if she thinks Marcos will let him bum a cigarette off of him. She smiles and tells him he definitely will. Lucien gets up and excuses himself, heading out the back door to find Marcos.

Claudia keeps looking at me, her eyes narrowing but a smile forming, like she’s starting to piece together what happened. Before she can ask, I excuse myself, heading towards the backyard to find Lucien and Marcos. But when I open the door I hear raised voices coming from further in the backyard.

“You need to fucking leave, Lucien.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you give me what’s mine, Marcos.”

“It’s not yours anymore, I told you that!”

“That’s because you fucking stole it from me, asshole!”

What the hell are they talking about?

“You say stole, I say borrowed-”

“It took me forever to find you and now you don’t even have the balls to admit you stole from me?”

“Fuck you!”

“No, fuck you!”

I hear the sound of fists landing and I close the last several steps, their fighting bodies moving into my view.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

They both stop, pushing back from each other and looking at me. Marcos tries to put on his normal charming smile, but that nagging feeling about him roars inside of me. “Hey, D.”

“Don’t hey me, Marcos. What’s going on?”

“Oh uh Lucien and I were just messing around, right?” He looks at Lucien who glares back at him.

“No. We were not. You stole from me.”

Marcos narrows his eyes. “And how could I have stolen anything from you?”

“You were my intern! You worked on my project and then you stole it to start your little start up!”

“Wait, what?” I look between them, confused.

“D, he’s crazy. He’s just some guy off the street. You don’t even know him-”

“Oh she knows me plenty.”

My jaw drops as Marcos looks between us.

“Wait…did…did you sleep with her when you went to get your phone?”

I can feel my cheeks heating up but Lucien speaks before I do. “Yeah. I did. I fucked her good. Had her screaming my name. Begging me to fuck her.”

Marcos’s mouth opens and closes, anger flashing in his eyes and I can feel tears pooling in mine, a mixture of anger and embarrassment as Lucien continues to speak.

“Doesn’t feel good, does it Marcos? To have something you want so badly taken away from you? I knew the moment I saw you look at her that you wanted her. So I fucked her first. You take something from me, I take something from you.”

Marcos stands there fuming, looking furious at Lucien, but no longer even looking my way. “You can’t just come in here-”

“I can. And I came in her too.”

SLAP!

My hand stings with the force of contact but I swallow any cry of pain. Lucien brings his hand to his cheek, turning to finally look at me, an odd expression on his face.

“D, listen. Marcos isn’t who you think he is. He-”

WHAM!

Marcos’s fist collides with Lucien’s face and he stumbles backwards. He rallies quickly, swinging for Marcos. I yell for them to stop but I may as well have been talking to the wall. The men fight, throwing themselves at each other, yelling insults that I can only halfway make out. But then Lucien pins Marcos to the ground, pounding on his face. I run up to him and grab his arm.

“Stop!”

Lucien looks at my hand on his arm and then at me before glancing down at Marcos who had just passed out. He looks back at me, his face softening as he lowers his fist, slowly standing up with a series of tiny grunts.

“D, I’m sorry, I-”

“Did you just fuck me to get back at him?”

He’s quiet for longer than I’d like, and I hate the tears that start to fall. I’m not delusional. I know nothing would come of it. I didn’t even know the guy. But a part of me had held onto some idea that maybe it was something more, could be something more.

“Not…not at the end.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He gestures to a couple of chairs. “Can I explain?”

I sit, I probably shouldn’t have but good decisions went out the window a long time ago. Lucien sits in the chair across from me, shifting his weight forward to be closer to me.

“Years ago, I hired Marcos as my intern. His name then was Juan. He helped me with my research. I had a bio tech lab and was working on some ground breaking tech. But then one day, I come in and everything is gone. He’d stolen everything, all of my years of research just gone. And then I see his face being put up as the new man to watch in all of the science and tech magazines and I see it, my tech being claimed by this imposter.” Lucien spits on Marcos’s body.

That explains the weird vibe I’d always gotten from him. He was a lying cheat.

“So what about tonight?”

“Ah. Well it had taken me years but I finally tracked him down. And every time I tried to get close, to get him to confess he would somehow weasel out of it. But then I saw him connected to a social media post about a dinner party. I hired a PI to figure out where and I..well I knocked on the door.”

“So your car?”

“Isn’t really broken down, no.”

“Your phone was fully charged.”

“It was already at 87% when I first plugged it in.”

I sit with this information for a few moments. “So what about…me?”

Lucien’s face softens as he looks at me. “Then there was you. I didn’t expect to see anyone here I actually was intrigued by, but there you were. I pushed it aside to get to Marcos but then I saw how he acted around you, the way he looked at you, the pure desire in every inch of him. So I flirted and got close. You were hot and I figured I could fuck you to make him get super pissed. But then you took your dress off so easily and I could tell you weren’t really that kind of person and I just… lost myself a bit when I was inside you. By the end, I was hating myself for using you. I…I’m sorry.”

Well. There you have it. I was right about Marcos being too charming for a reason, a reason he had now confessed to, recorded on Lucien’s phone no doubt. I’m mad, I want to hit him but I also get it. And damn was he the best fuck I’ve ever had.

I lean forward, curling my finger around the chains on his neck as I pull him closer.

“Wanna go for round 2?”

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