Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

A lice

The photographers swarmed around him, shouting questions and jostling for position. But Lucas moved through them as if they were little more than an inconvenience, his ice-blue eyes fixed on the entrance to my building. I saw him reach for his phone, and a moment later I heard the soft chime of the SA app unlocking my front door.

I backed away from the window, my legs trembling beneath me. My mind raced with conflicting impulses—part of me wanted to run, to hide, to escape the punishment I knew was coming. But a stronger part, the part that had finally acknowledged my true desires, kept me rooted to the spot.

The sound of footsteps in the hallway outside my apartment sent a shiver down my spine. Then, the soft beep of the electronic lock disengaging. The door swung open, and there he was.

Lucas filled the doorway, his broad shoulders blocking out the light from the hallway. His eyes found mine immediately, piercing and intense. I felt pinned in place by his gaze, unable to move or speak.

“Alice,” he said, his voice low and controlled. “Are you ready to accept your punishment?”

My heart raced as I gazed at him. Despite the turmoil of emotions swirling within me, I found my voice.

“Yes, Monsieur ,” I whispered, my words barely audible. “I’m ready.”

Lucas nodded curtly, stepping into the apartment and closing the door behind him. The soft click of the lock engaging seemed to echo in the silence between us.

“Strip,” he commanded, his voice brooking no argument. “Everything off.”

My fingers trembled as I reached for the hem of my shirt. I pulled it over my head, letting it fall to the floor. My bra followed, then my yoga pants.

I hesitated for a moment, my fingers hooked in the waistband of my panties. Lucas’ eyes narrowed slightly, a silent warning. Taking a deep breath, I slowly pushed the lacy fabric down my thighs, letting them pool at my feet before stepping out of them.

“Bring them to me,” Lucas ordered, his voice low and husky.

My cheeks burned as I bent to retrieve the delicate scrap of fabric. I could feel the dampness of my arousal as I grasped them, mortified by the evidence of my body’s betrayal. On shaky legs, I approached Lucas, holding out the panties like an offering.

Lucas took them from me, his fingers brushing against mine in a touch that sent electricity coursing through my body. He held the panties up, examining them in the soft light filtering through the curtains. Then, to my utter embarrassment, he brought them to his face and inhaled deeply.

“My, my,” he murmured, his eyes locked on mine. “You’re quite wet, aren’t you, ma chère ?”

I wanted to look away, to hide from his penetrating gaze, but I found myself captivated. My breath caught in my throat as Lucas slowly ran his fingers along the damp crotch of my panties, his touch achingly close to where I ached for him.

“I… I’m sorry,” I stammered, though I wasn’t entirely sure what I was apologizing for.

Lucas smiled, though the expression didn’t have much warmth in it—as if the sun were trying to break through clouds of conflict.

“No need to apologize, you little whore. It’s only what I expected.”

My jaw went slack at the wave of need that shot through me at those coarse, now-familiar words. Then I bit my lip, my brow creasing hard, as I watched him put my panties in the inside breast pocket of his blazer.

I fought the urge to cover myself as Lucas’ eyes raked over my body, drinking in every curve and plane. I felt my nipples harden under his scrutiny, a flush of heat spreading across my chest. Despite my fear, I couldn’t deny the arousal still building within me.

“Turn around,” Lucas ordered. “Hands on the wall, legs spread.”

I obeyed, pressing my palms against the cool plaster. I widened my stance, acutely aware of how exposed and vulnerable I was in this position. I heard Lucas moving behind me, then the soft rustle of fabric as he removed his jacket.

“You’ve been very naughty, Alice,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Coming to the match, allowing yourself to be used that way by the press.”

Lucas moved closer, his breath hot against my ear. “I’m afraid this apartment isn’t suitable for the discipline you need, ma chère . I’m going to take you somewhere more… appropriate.”

My heart raced at his words. “Where?” I whispered, a tremor in my voice.

“You’ll see,” Lucas replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Now, put on your raincoat. Nothing else but your shoes.”

I turned to face him, eyes wide. “But Monsieur , the paparazzi…”

“Exactly,” he said, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Let them see that you’re going to receive the consequences of your foolish actions.”

With trembling hands, I retrieved my lightweight, pale pink raincoat from the closet. The silky lining whispered against my bare skin as I slipped it on, acutely aware of my nakedness underneath. The hem barely reached mid-thigh, leaving my legs exposed.

Lucas watched intently as I fastened the buttons, his gaze burning into me. When I finished, he stepped forward, running his hands down my sides. I shivered at his touch, even through the thin material.

“Perfect,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. “Now, let’s go.”

He took my arm, guiding me firmly toward the door. As we stepped into the hallway, I felt a rush of conflicting emotions. Shame burned hot in my cheeks at the thought of facing the paparazzi in nothing but the raincoat.

Lucas’ hand on my arm was firm and unyielding as he guided me down the hallway toward the stairs. My heart pounded so loudly I was sure he must hear it, the rush of blood in my ears almost drowning out the sound of our feet on the old stone steps.

As we stepped into the lobby, I caught a glimpse of myself in the antique mirror on the wall. My cheeks were flushed, eyes wide and bright with a mixture of fear and arousal. The pale pink raincoat clung to my curves, the thin fabric not doing much to hide the fact that I was completely naked underneath. My nipples strained against the silky lining, betraying my body’s eager response to Lucas’ dominance.

He marched me calmly toward the door, each step bringing us closer to the waiting paparazzi. I shifted nervously, acutely aware of the cool air caressing my bare thighs below the hem of the raincoat. Lucas’ grip on my arm tightened slightly, a silent command to be still.

“Remember, Alice,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. “You brought this on yourself. Now you must face the consequences.”

Through the glass doors I could see the flash of cameras already, hear the muffled shouts of the paparazzi outside. My legs felt like jelly as Lucas led me forward, his stride purposeful and unhurried.

As we pushed through the doors, the cacophony of voices rose to a roar. The moment we stepped outside, a wall of sound hit us. Dozens of voices shouted questions, their words blending into an incomprehensible din. Camera flashes exploded around us, momentarily blinding me. I blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the assault on my senses.

Lucas’ hand on my arm was firm as he guided me through the crowd. His face was set in a mask of stern determination, ignoring the shouted questions and pleas for comment. I tried to mirror his composure, but my cheeks burned with embarrassment as I felt the gentle breeze caress my bare legs.

“Lucas! Is it true you’re leaving PSG?”

“Alice! Are you and Lucas back together?”

“What’s going on? Where are you taking her?”

The questions came from all sides, each more intrusive than the last. I kept my eyes fixed on the ground, watching my feet take one trembling step after another. The thin soles of my shoes did little to protect me from the rough texture of the sidewalk, each step a reminder of my vulnerable state.

As we moved through the throng, I became acutely aware of the fabric of the raincoat brushing against my naked skin. My nipples, already hard from arousal and the cool air, rubbed against the lining with each step. The sensation sent jolts of pleasure straight to my core, and I felt a rush of wetness between my thighs.

I felt my face burn with shame as we approached Lucas’ waiting limousine. Every step seemed like exquisite torment. The air moved along my bare thighs, a constant reminded of how exposed Lucas had commanded I be. Yet even as embarrassment flooded through me, I couldn’t deny the thrill of arousal that coursed through my veins.

Lucas’ grip was firm and possessive as he guided me through the sea of cameras. His touch sent shivers down my spine, igniting a warmth low in my belly that contrasted sharply with my outward discomfort. I cast a sidelong glance at him, taking in his stern profile. The set of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes—it all spoke of his unwavering dominance. And God help me, it made me weak at the knees.

As we reached the car, Lucas opened the door and ushered me inside. The leather seat was cool against my bare bottom, and I squirmed slightly, acutely aware of how wet I had become. Lucas slid in beside me, his thigh pressing against mine. The heat of his body seemed to sear through the thin fabric of the raincoat.

“You’ve been very naughty, Alice,” Lucas murmured as the car pulled away from the curb, sending a shiver of anticipation through me. “Now you’re going to learn exactly how far I’ll go to give a naughty girl what she needs, when I’ve fallen in love with her.”

My breath caught in my throat at Lucas’ words. Love? Had he really said that? I wanted to ask him, to demand clarification, but the stern look in his eyes told me now was not the time for questions.

“Where are we going?” I asked instead, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Somewhere you can be properly disciplined,” Lucas replied, his tone matter-of-fact. “The stadium.”

My eyes widened in shock. “The stadium? But… why?”

Lucas’ hand came to rest on my bare thigh, his touch both comforting and possessive. “Because, ma chère , you need to understand the consequences of your actions. Your little stunt at the press conference didn’t just affect me. It affected my teammates, the club. You’re going to apologize to them.”

Heat flooded my cheeks as I realized what he meant. “You don’t mean… in front of the team?”

“That’s exactly what I mean,” Lucas confirmed, his fingers tracing lazy circles on my skin. “They’re going to watch as I discipline you. And then, if you take your punishment well, they’ll see how thoroughly I reward you.”

A whimper escaped my lips, equal parts mortification and arousal. The thought of being exposed, punished, and then taken in front of Lucas’ teammates sent a confusing mix of emotions coursing through me. Shame burned hot in my chest, but it was quickly overtaken by a surge of desire so strong it left me breathless.

The ride to the stadium felt like an eternity. Lucas’ hand remained on my thigh the entire time, his fingers tracing maddening patterns on my sensitive skin. I squirmed in my seat, torn between pressing my legs together to alleviate the ache between them and spreading them wider, silently begging for more of Lucas’ touch.

As we pulled up to the private entrance of the Parc des Princes, my heart began to race. This was really happening. In just moments, I would be facing Lucas’ teammates, exposed and vulnerable, ready to accept my punishment.

Lucas helped me out of the car, his hand firm on my lower back as he guided me into the building. The cool air conditioning raised goosebumps on my skin as we walked through the winding corridors. The smell of sweat and grass lingered in the air, reminding me acutely of where we were and what was about to happen.

We paused outside a door marked ‘PSG.’ Lucas turned to me, his ice-blue eyes intense as they bored into mine. “Are you ready, Alice?”

I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. “Yes, Monsieur ,” I whispered, though my voice trembled slightly.

Lucas nodded, a hint of approval in his eyes. “Remember, you brought this on yourself. But if you take your punishment well, you’ll be rewarded.” With that, he pushed open the door.