Page 151 of The Owner's Temptation

He pounds into me with savage precision, each thrust a brutal claim. My back is pressed hard against the wall, the cool surface doing nothing to ease the fire burning through my body as he drives into me again and again.

His grip on my thighs is bruising, his hips slamming into mine with a punishing rhythm that makes my vision blur.

“This what you wanted?” he growls into my ear. “To be used like a fucktoy in my office? Dress torn, heels still on, dripping all over my cock?”

All I can do is gasp.

My nails claw into his shoulders, searching for something to hold onto as he fucks me like he’s trying to reshape my soul. The sting of his thrusts borders on unbearable, but I don’t want it to stop—I want it harder. Deeper.Worse.

“Look at you,” he grits, voice feral. “Taking me raw like a good little slut. This is what you are now. Mine. You don’t need contracts, or clients, or mixers.”

He thrusts harder, burying himself so deep I whimper.

“You needme.”

My head lolls back as he drives into me again, and again, and again—relentless. My body feels weightless, suspended between the wall and his fury. I can feel my orgasm building, slow and molten, curling low in my stomach like it’s waiting for permission to detonate.

Lucian’s hand fists my hair again, dragging my mouth back to his as he growls between kisses.

“I’ll fuck you however I want. Wherever I want. You belong tome,Sienna. This pussy—” he slams into me, and I choke on a moan, “—this tight, greedy fucking pussy ismine.”

The words detonate through me, and I almost come on the spot—but before I can fall over the edge, he breaks first.

Lucian’s hips stutter, a low groan ripping from his chest as he buries himself deep one last time.

He comes with a brutal thrust and a growl of my name—his cock twitching, thick pulses of heat flooding into me.

It nearly breaks me.

He’s still holding me up, panting against my throat, both of us shuddering. My muscles tremble, my orgasm still hanging in the air like a storm that hasn't broken.

He pulls back just slightly, and I feel the mess of us, wet and sticky between my thighs.

Somewhere in the midst of it all, one of my heels fell off—probably from the way he slammed me into the wall over and over like I was weightless. I glance down, dazed, and see the other still hanging on.

I kick it off.

Lucian sets me down roughly, hands still gripping me like he doesn’t trust himself to let go. I’m standing on shaky legs, skin flushed, heart racing, dress shredded somewhere in a pile on the floor.

And then he rips his shirt open.

The buttons fly, one of them pinging off the wall, and he yanks it off with a growl, exposing the hard lines of his chest, the tattoos inked across his arms and ribs, the tension pulsing through every muscle.

He looks like something carved from war and sin, standing there half-naked, flushed and furious, cock still heavy and dripping with proof of what we’ve just done.

I’ve never seen anything so devastating.

And I’ve never felt so claimed.

Lucian's hands come up to cradle my face—those big, scarred hands so capable of violence, now holding me like I’m something breakable.

His mouth finds mine again, softer than before but no less possessive. There’s a hunger in it still, but now it simmers beneath the surface, slow and consuming.

He kisses me as he walks me backward deeper into the office, our steps uneven, my body still trembling from the way he claimed me against the wall.

Between kisses, his words are like heat curling around my spine.

“You’ve been such a bad girl tonight, haven’t you.”

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