Lucian gave her an innocent smile, his fingers still buried inside her but unmoving. His other hand traced slow, lazy circles on her thigh as if he had all the time in the world. "Hmm?" he hummed, feigning innocence. "Something wrong, sweetheart?"
She almost screamed. "You stopped!"
"I did." His smile deepened, utterly shameless. "You just look so damn cute —desperate, needy. How could I not take a moment to savor the view?"
Medeia gasped, nearly choking on air. How cruel of him! How unfair!
"No, no, no! Lucian, I’m almost there!" she whined, her hips instinctively rolling forward, chasing the pleasure he so cruelly took away.
"Almost there?" He tilted his head, pretending to ponder. "Then I guess you’ll just have to work for it, sweetheart."
Medeia’s eyes widened. "You wouldn’t—"
Lucian curled his fingers again, just enough to make her jolt, but then he stilled them once more. He dragged his tongue over her inner thigh, slow and deliberate, watching her squirm beneath him.
"Come on, sweetheart," he murmured, voice husky. "Beg for it."
"Lucian," she whined, gripping his wrist, her voice trembling with frustration. "Please—"
His emerald eyes gleamed with satisfaction, darkening with something wicked. "Please, what?"
Oh, he was enjoying this way too much.
Heat pooled in her stomach, her body tightening under his control. This wasn’t just teasing anymore—this was torture, and damn it, she was falling right into his trap.
As his fingers barely twitched inside her, as his breath ghosted over her sensitive skin, Medeia knew she had no choice.
This game was only getting hotter.
Medeia looked at her with such desperation. "Please, Lucian ... touch me. Make me come."
"I love hearing you beg," he murmured, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. "Say it again."
Medeia whimpered, frustration coiling tighter in her belly. She wasn’t above begging, not when she was this close, not when he had worked her up to this unbearable edge.
"Lucian ..." Her voice was softer this time, almost trembling. "Please."
He smiled. "That’s my girl."
And then, without warning, he pushed his fingers deep inside her again, curling them just right, his mouth returning to her clit, sucking it harder.
Medeia cried out, her back arching as a wave of pleasure crashed through her. The intensity stole the air from her lungs, her body shaking as he dragged her through her release, not letting up even as she trembled beneath him.
Her orgasm was so intense she nearly sobbed.
Lucian only pulled away when she went completely boneless, her chest rising and falling in rapid breaths. He licked his lips, tasting her juice.
As she lay there, still trembling, Lucian kissed his way up her body, his lips lingering over her flushed skin. When he reached her lips, he smiled.
"See?" He kissed her softly, teasingly. "Begging looks good on you."
"I can’t believe it." Medeia let out a breathless laugh, her lips curling into a teasing smile. Her body was still trembling, the aftershocks of pleasure making her limbs feel deliciously weak. "You’re getting really good at this game, honey."
"Game?" he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear, his voice a low, seductive hum. "Sweetheart, the game hasn’t even started yet."
A shiver ran down Medeia’s spine. Oh, she was in trouble.
A moment later, Lucian bent Medeia’s legs, folding them so that her thighs pressed against her calves. Then, he bound them together, his fingers grazing her heated skin as he secured the ties.
Then, he also bound her wrists together.
She couldn’t move. She couldn’t touch him.
All she could do was stare up at him.
Medeia shivered, her breath hitching as she couldn’t wait to see his next move. She didn’t fight it—didn’t resist. Instead, she surrendered to the thrill of not knowing what he would do next.
Her body responded before he even touched her, slickness pooling between her thighs, her core throbbing with need.
She was utterly at his mercy, and damn it—she loved it.
Lucian shed his clothes, revealing his hardened length, thick and aching with need. Medeia couldn’t help but think that he must be just as desperate as she was.
"Lucian, honey ..." Her voice was soft, sultry, dripping with temptation. She batted her lashes at him, her eyes dark with longing. "Won’t you put it in now?"
She watched as his jaw tensed, his grip on her thighs tightening. Oh, she had him right where she wanted him.
Without another word, he positioned himself at her entrance, teasing her with the tip, rubbing it against her slick folds but refusing to push in. Medeia whimpered, her hips instinctively rolling forward, desperate for more friction.
"Patience," Lucian whispered, his lips grazing her ear. "You were so eager to beg earlier ... let me hear it again."
Medeia’s breath hitched. "Lucian, please ... stop teasing."
"Come on, let me hear it more." His fingers trailed up to her nipples, sending shivers down her spine.
She softened her voice even more. "Please, Lucian ... I need you inside me. Now."
Lucian exhaled sharply, as if her words alone almost pushed him over the edge. "Good girl," he praised, and with one smooth thrust, he filled her completely.
Medeia cried out, her body writhing as pleasure and fullness overwhelmed her. Lucian groaned, burying his face in the crook of her neck.
He held himself still, giving her time to adjust, his fingers gripping her bound wrists as if restraining himself from losing control.
"Fuck, you’re so tight," he whispered.
Now, he was even using filthy words! Hell, he was so hot that Medeia’s entire body felt like it was on fire.
Then, he pulled back—only to slam into her again, stealing the air from her lungs.
And just like that, the teasing was over.
Lucian set a relentless pace, his movements fast and rough, leaving no room for Medeia to catch her breath. Bound and helpless beneath him, all she could do was take everything he gave her.
Her head fell back, a loud moan escaping her lips as pleasure coiled tightly inside her. "L-Lucian—"