Page 16 of Captured Fantasy

I extracted myself from him and went to the door, sliding the lock down. He crossed to the couch, taking a seat in the middle, and spread his knees. God, despite how horny I was, I found myself annoyed by his arrogance. All made men were like this. They all walked around like they had the largest dicks to ever grace the earth and it was some kind of gift to let a woman suck them.

I lingered at the door, my heart fluttering. Yes, I had technically been touched by more than just my husband, but that had been different. Cosimo had initiated that and I had just responded to him. But this was different. Today I had woken up with a clear intention. And even if I hadn’t expected to end up with Lucien’s dick in my mouth, it was strangely empowering to know that I had chosen it.

I had initiated and I was going to follow through with it.

His eyes followed me as I crossed to him and knelt between his knees and slid my fingers up his chest. He kept still as I touched him, but when I went to unbutton his shirt, he stopped me.

“Don’t draw this out,” he said shortly.

I nodded quickly, sensing that he was annoyed. Bending over him, I unfastened his pants and pushed them aside. His cock was thick and long, much larger than Gino’s, and it caught me off guard. I’d learned how to relax my throat and take my husband easily, but he’d been a few inches shorter than Lucien.

Lucien wasn’t standing on ceremony. He put his hand in my hair, closing his fingers against my scalp, and pushed my face into his groin. His cock filled my mouth with a faint salty taste that wasn’t unpleasant. I forced my breathing to slow, letting my brain go silent and my throat relax.

It was colder and more detached than the blowjobs I’d given Gino. My body barely reacted and my mind remained completely unaroused. His hand in my hair kept me steady as he pushed himself deep and came with a harsh groan. I swallowed and stilled, waiting for him to release my hair. He did so reluctantly and tucked himself back into his pants.

“Color me impressed,” he said. “Open your mouth.”

Confused, I obeyed. He took my face in his hand and hooked his pointer into my mouth, almost gagging me as it slid over my tongue. It took me a moment to understand he was making sure I’d swallowed and I pulled back, scowling.

“I swallowed,” I said indignantly.

“I just needed to see it for myself.”

He nudged me and I got to my feet.

“Go get cleaned up before Federico gets back,” he said, pointing at a door in the corner. “Oh, and Mrs. Russo, one more thing.”

I turned.

“Don’t ever fucking think you can manipulate me again.”

My stomach flipped and I nodded, grabbing my purse and disappearing into the bathroom. I heard Lucien swear under his breath as I shut the door and went to the mirror. My hair was dishevelled where he’d woven his fingers through it and my lipstick had worn off.

Taking a deep breath to slow the pattering of my heart, I ran a washcloth under cold water and patted my neck to cool the flush on my cheeks. I reapplied my lipstick and combed out my hair. There was a tin of breath mints on the sink and I took one, placing it on my tongue. The lingering taste of his cum dissipated.

When I stepped back into Lucien’s office, he was typing on his computer, a cigarette smoldering in the ashtray at his side. He glanced up, his gaze flicking over me disinterestedly.

“Rico’s upstairs,” he said. “I told him you stepped away to use the restroom.”

“Is that it?” I asked softly.

He fixed me with a stare. “Run along.”

In my head, I imagined all the smart replies I wanted to say to him, but I didn’t want to undo everything I’d just done. Instead, I inclined my head and walked out the door, leaving Lucien and his sour mood behind.

I moved upstairs, my heels clicking loudly, and paused outside Federico’s closed door. I could hear him speaking in a quiet voice on the other side as I knocked. There was silence for a moment and then the door opened and Federico appeared.

“Apologies, Mrs. Russo, I had someone on the phone,” he said. “Come in.”

As I slipped through the door, I felt his eyes follow my every step. He circled me and sat down at his desk, indicating I should take a seat opposite him. As I sank down, I ran my eyes over him. He wasn’t my type, but he was still handsome—in the prime of his life.

Federico was a lean man, almost six feet, with a set of black eyes. His face was angular with a large, straight bridged nose, and a strong jaw. His mouth was thin and male and he had a way of letting it part while he was thinking, showing a flash of his bottom teeth. There was an arrogant aura about him, a kind of rock star swagger. I wasn’t sure if I found it annoying or attractive.

His stark, black brows rose as I met his gaze, clearly waiting for me to say something.

“What can I do for you?” he said, leaning back in his chair. He ran a hand over his black hair, slicking it back.

“Honestly,” I said quietly. “I was hoping you would reconsider.”

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