Page 2 of Lucien & Olivia

It occurs to me as we step inside that this is how Olivia learned to live in my winter. With her light, her sparkle, her hope, and her soft, endless warmth, she reminds me of the lights glittering from the pine trees, the tinsel hanging from the balcony, and the bright red bows at the front desk. I glance down at her hand, woven through mine. She has her signature wine red nails at the tips of her elegant fingers.

My mind goes from innocent thoughts to decidedly less innocent in a second. I give my head a little shake to get rid of the image of her hand slipping under my belt and zipper, wrapping around my cock. Jerking me slowly while she kisses my mouth, pulling me by the tie until she’s on her back under me, hips pushing up against my—

“Thank you, sir,” Olivia says warmly, holding her hand out to shake his.

“We have your room ready for you.” He leans over the counter to snatch a set of keys up and holds them out to me. “Shall I walk you up?”

I shake my head, flipping them into my palm. “I can walk us up, thank you.”

I called ahead and had the room set up for Olivia. She’s always loved pretty things, although we’re more intentional about it now. But around the holidays, she still loves being spoiled. I’m just more careful about it than I was before when I’d drop ten thousand after we fought. Excessive presents wait for December and March—Christmas and her birthday.

I hold out my hand and she takes it obediently. We head up the huge, dark wood staircase that spirals up to the elevator. The front room and stairs remind me a little of the entrance and first floor of my father’s house, where Olivia and I lived for the first year of our marriage. Except the hotel is warm, inviting, and doesn’t have endless bad memories attached.

Olivia hits the elevator button with one red fingernail. We step inside and the doors slide shut, giving us the privacy I want.

I press her body up against the wall, pushing her head back so I can kiss her mouth. Her breath hitches and she gives the tiniest moan from between her red lips.

“I hope you’re not tired because I’m going to fuck you until it hurts to sit on that pretty, little cunt tomorrow,” I murmur into her hair.

Her back stiffens and she gives me a stern look from beneath her lashes.

“Behave, Lucien,” she whispers. “We’re not even in the room yet.”

I slide my hand down the small of her back and pinch her ass through her jeans. Hard enough to hurt. She yelps just as the doors slide open and we step into the hall. We’re on the top floor and through the window I can see the dark fields and lights glittering down the drive far below. Tomorrow, we can have breakfast in the dining room, overlooking the ski slopes.

“It’s pretty empty up here,” she remarks.

“It’s the most expensive floor,” I tell her, reaching for her hand.

She chews her lower lip, staring through the window. Her wide eyes glitter and I can’t keep from checking her out. Even after all this time. She’s so fucking pretty, her soft hair falling around the shoulders of her turtleneck. My eyes flick lower, to her round ass in those jeans.

Fuck me.

The front of my pants is uncomfortably tight. I don’t understand men who get tired of their wives and look for something new. Since I laid eyes on Olivia all those years ago, I haven’t thought about anyone else. I never tire of watching her talk, laugh, eat, drink. And I definitely never get tired of watching her fuck and get fucked.

She’s endlessly fascinating. All the little curves of her body when she’s naked in bed. I spend hours tracing those with my fingers and wondering how I got so lucky to have her as my wife.

CHAPTER TWO

Olivia

He pushes open the hotel door and I gasp. I wasn’t sure what to expect because we’ve scaled back a lot of extravagant purchases over the last few years. But deep down, I was hoping he’d take it back to when we were first married and spoil me. And he hasn’t disappointed.

The honeymoon suite is decorated for the season. The bed is covered in wine red velvet and silk, mistletoe hangs over the windows, and there’s a fire burning in the hearth. All along the windowsill are bouquets of white roses. They cover one of the bedside tables and beside them is a black velvet box tied with ribbon.

I know there’s probably thousands of dollars of jewelry inside. He doesn’t do things by halves and he knows I have a weakness for things that sparkle.

“Lucien,” I whisper. “You really didn’t have to.”

He kisses my head. “You deserve to be spoiled,” he murmurs. “But don’t worry, I’ll make you work for it tonight, baby.”

I shiver and his eyes bore into me as he ushers me inside and shuts the door. We both had a long day, but now that we’re finally at the hotel, I can tell we’re both getting a second wind. Iknow Lucien is because I can see he’s got a hard ridge beneath the front of his pants.

I skim my red nails over it as I pass by.

“Fuck, baby,” he says under his breath.

He was at work all day, but I got a few texts from him between meetings. Most of them were tame, the usual kind of texts husbands and wives send each other to keep the day running smoothly.

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