Knight and Sleigh: An Erotic Lucien Knight Christmas Novella by Kitty French Page B

arrived,’ he said, then lowered both of his hands onto her stomach and moved them in slow, sensuous circles. ‘I stroked it over my cock to make sure it’s stimulating,’ he said.  
    ‘Was it?’  
    Lucien nodded, hot-eyed and sexy. The glide of his warm hands, the ever-present candle light in every room of the cabin, the dark skies outside the window. Sophie let the whole scene wash over her as Lucien stroked his way up her ribcage.  
    When he covered her breasts with his hands, flattening them beneath slick palms, she met his knowing gaze head on, loving how very turned on he was.  
    ‘You know how good this is going to feel when I fuck you,’ he said, his voice low and controlled, the masseur, the giver. He rolled her nipples, slippery and oiled, her skin slick and warm from his attentions.  
    Sophie didn’t need to reply, because it wasn’t a question that needed answering. They both knew how good it was going to be. He’d said it only to arouse her, just as he did pretty much everything in the bedroom to intensify the experience for her.  
    Sometimes he was hard and fast, but not this time. This was all about taking it slow, and Sophie closed her eyes as he swept his hands down over her inner thighs, brushing feather-light between her legs on the way.  
    She lifted her eyelids again when he paused to slide a pillow beneath her hips and then cupped her, his palm hot and pressed firm.  
    ‘They added oils designed specifically to stimulate your clitoris,’ he said, licking his lips as he slid two slick fingers up between her lips and opened her. He laid his other hand flat on her mound, a slow circular massage, applying indescribably pleasurable pressure as he slid his fingers either side of her clitoris, a slow up and down, never quite there.  
    Now he shifted himself closer between her thighs, bending one of her knees up against his chest, opening her other knee out flat on the bed. He had her legs spread wide, and she braced her knee into him when he lowered both of his hands again to touch her.  
    Sophie sucked down a breath as he flattened her labia back with the fingers of one hand and then stroked her exposed clitoris with the index finger of his other. A fingertip, a tease, a touch that set off an ‘oh God I’m almost there, give me more,’ mantra pounding in Sophie’s head.  
    ‘This is my favourite view in the world, Princess,’ he said, gazing down between her legs with undisguised lust.  
    ‘You have officially the most fucking beautiful, lickable clit on the planet.’  
    ‘Jesus, Lucien,’ she said, half laughing and half desperate with how much she wanted the orgasm he was making her wait for.  
    He grazed his teeth over her kneecap as he flipped his hand, palm up, to slide an oiled finger inside her. When she arched and reached down to touch her clit herself, instinctive and greedy, he shook his head.  
    ‘Not you. Not yet. I want to look at you some more.’  
    ‘Sadist,’ Sophie moaned, enjoying his torture nonetheless.  
    Lucien picked up the oil and dribbled another few droplets between her legs.  
    ‘See how it slides into your crevices and folds,’ he murmured, touching lightly where the warm oil ran. ‘See how it pools around your swollen, begging-for-it, clit,’ he added triumphantly, drawing his finger in small, slippery, madness-inducing circles around it.  
    And then he switched gears and stopped teasing at last, splaying her impossibly wide and finally rubbing her clitoris with all the pressure and attention she craved. When Lucien gave, he really gave. She was close, agonisingly so, and he dipped his head over his hands, tonguing and fingering her clit hard as he plunged his fingers inside her, and it was as much as Sophie could do to grip his hair and let her body mash itself, break itself, against his hungry, gifted mouth.  
     
    She didn’t mean to fall asleep. She’d meant to pull him over her and into her, to give back as he’d given to