Page 161 of The Owner's Temptation

And fuck, does she look obscene like this—panties still damp, her lips, swollen and parted in a soft, breathless dare.

“Such a dirty mouth on such a sweet Angel,” I murmur, trailing my fingers over the curve of her inner thigh.

She shudders.

“Keep your legs open for me,” I command softly, bending down between them, my breath hot against her soaked lace. “While I suck every drop of cum from your drenched panties…”

My tongue flicks against the seam of red silk, and she whimpers.

“…mynaughty little rabbit.”

Icome with a cry, back arching off the desk, thighs shaking, vision going white at the edges as Lucian’s mouth works me through it like heownsmy pleasure—because he does.

God, he does.

And when I finally collapse against the cool wood, breathless and panting, I manage to gasp out between whimpers, “Honestly? Waiting this long to have my pussy eaten might be the dumbest decision I’ve ever made.”

Lucian chuckles against my thigh, deep and indulgent. His hands are warm on my hips as he pulls back, dark eyes dragging up my body like he’s memorizing the wreckage.

“I agree,” he says, low and amused.

He helps me down gently, guiding me off the desk and into his lap. I straddle him instinctively, curling into him as he pulls me into a kiss—slower now. Softer. Still possessive, but with something unspoken lingering just beneath it.

I could stay here forever. Wrapped in him. Drenched in sweat and something that feels dangerously close to… more.

But I have to ask.

I hesitate first, trailing a hand down the front of his now half-buttoned shirt, drawing invisible lines over the ink beneath.

“Not to make this weird,” I murmur, still breathless, “but when do I get cleared for contracts?”

His fingers still on my thigh.

And just like that, the air shifts.

The warmth in his eyes fades, replaced with that unreadable storm-gray mask he wears so well.

I don’t even need him to answer to know I’ve touched a nerve.

“I mean,” I say quickly, trying to make it sound light, “most of the other girls have been cleared by their sponsors. A few already started first contracts. I’ve been putting up with your shit forweeksnow.”

That earns me the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth—but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

Instead, he leans forward, grabbing the leather folder off his desk and stuffing it full of contracts and paperwork like I’m not still in his lap. Like my question is a line he didn’t want me to cross.

“We’ll talk about it soon,” he says.

My stomach dips.

“Soon?” I echo.

Lucian’s jaw ticks as he flips the flap closed on the folder, his focus suddenly laser-pointed on anythingbutme.

“See if you’re ready for your first real contract,” he adds, standing and setting me aside like I’m light as air. Like I’mtemporary.

I stay sitting on the edge of his desk, trying to hide how hard that lands. How deep it cuts.

So that’s it? A lesson?

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