Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

L ucas

I looked at Alice’s beautiful face, her eyes downcast to the table, and the simultaneous urges to care for her tenderly and to dominate her utterly vied in my heart and my body. I had never felt this way on a first date—but then again I had never gone out on a first date with a girl whose charming, clearly virginal, sweetly pink anus I had seen presented to my lustful gaze, offered to me in a salacious photo intended to attract a wealthy man’s attention.

Nor with one who I happened to know masturbated last night, perhaps—hopefully—thinking about me.

“Tell me more, won’t you?” I asked. The color in her cheeks had faded slightly, but now it came back as she looked up at me with a hesitant, tight little smile that clearly concealed a great deal.

“Can we just say that the sponsor I accepted yesterday didn’t work out?” Alice’s voice sounded to me like the music of a stream running through a sun-dappled clearing in the woods. She spoke French with just the slightest hint of an American accent, which just made her that much more alluring, from my perspective.

“Of course,” I assured her. For now, at any rate, ma chère . If this went further than dinner this evening—as I could already feel it doing—I would get the details, if I had to spank them out of her. “Tell me about your studies, then.”

Her face brightened, her smile becoming genuine. “They haven’t even started yet,” she said with a little laugh that sounded to me like a silver bell. “But I suppose I can tell you my hopes for them?”

She did, and of course I found them charming—rejuvenating even. Every educated Frenchman values his culture and its history; to find that passion reflected in a lovely young American quickly began to intoxicate me.

Appetizers arrived, with perfectly paired wine, then entrees, with their own pairing. I scarcely noticed, though Alice’s pleasure in what she tasted gratified me greatly. By the time dessert arrived, we were talking animatedly of the Abbots of Cluny, of the Cistercians, of Bernard of Clairvaux.

“I have a dark confession, Monsieur ,” she said, her tone playful. “My apartment is within walking distance of the museum at the Hotel de Cluny, but I haven’t gone yet.”

“I wish I could take you,” I told her.

Alice frowned, and then understanding dawned. “Can you go nowhere?” she asked, with what seemed reflexive compassion.

“Not in public,” I told her, with a theatrical sigh. Then I spoke from sheer, reckless instinct. “But if my status means that I can support a girl like you, I cannot regret it much.”

Alice’s sweet blush returned in an instant, and she cast down her eyes once again. I watched as she fidgeted slightly with her napkin, clearly unsure how to respond to my rather bold statement. The urge to reach across the table and lift her chin, to make her meet my gaze, was almost overwhelming. But I restrained myself, allowing her a moment to compose her thoughts.

“That’s very kind of you to say,” she finally murmured, her voice soft. “But surely there are many girls more deserving of your support than me.”

I leaned back in my chair, studying her. The modesty in her words contrasted beautifully with the provocative photos I’d seen in her profile. It was that dichotomy that had first drawn me to her—the innocent scholar with hidden depths of sensuality.

“I disagree,” I said firmly. “Your passion for history, your intelligence… these are rare and valuable qualities, Alice. And they deserve to be nurtured.”

As Alice’s eyes met mine again, I felt a surge of emotion I hadn’t expected. The candlelight flickered, casting soft shadows across her delicate features. Her lips, stained slightly red from the wine, curved into a shy smile that sent a jolt through my chest.

I found myself captivated by the play of light in her chestnut hair, the way it framed her face in gentle waves. Her green eyes, wide and expressive, seemed to hold a world of possibilities. In that moment, I could imagine spending hours getting lost in their depths, unraveling the mysteries hidden within.

The soft clink of cutlery and the low murmur of conversation from tables below us in the main dining room faded into the background. All I could focus on was Alice—the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, the way her slender fingers toyed nervously with the stem of her wineglass, the faint flush that still colored her cheeks.

If this were any other woman, I thought, I would know exactly how to proceed. I would sponsor her, almost certainly. I would fuck her once or twice a week for a month or two, perhaps teach her some of the joys of sexual discipline, and then send her on her way with a gift from my own pocket, something to cover her studies for the rest of the year and free her to find another sponsor.

But Alice… Alice was different. The more we talked, the more I found myself genuinely interested in her thoughts, her dreams, her fears. I wanted to know everything about her—not just how she’d look spread out on my bed, her wrists and ankles bound, her cunt soaking wet and desperate for my massive cock.

Her green eyes had gone wide with a mix of hope and uncertainty. “You really think so?”

“I do,” I assured her. “Which is why I’d like to make you an offer.”

Alice’s breath caught audibly. I could see the conflict in her eyes—excitement warring with apprehension. She knew what kind of offer I meant, of course. We both did.

Alice

I couldn’t let myself think about it. That’s what I told myself, as if it were a valid excuse. Carpe diem. You Only Live Once.

Besides, if I hesitated, obviously the most famous, most interesting, most handsome person I’d ever met would decide he didn’t want to sponsor me after all.

In his eyes, though… I could see attraction, which made my heart glow with a kind of pride I’d never felt before in my life. I could see something else, though: a sort of burning hunger that made my heart jump with fear even as down below I felt a very different kind of glow.

Don’t let yourself think about it.

“I accept, Monsieur ,” I said in a voice even softer than I’d intended it.

A smile broke out on Lucas’ face, like the sun emerging from a fog that’s obscured it. I watched him get his phone out of his breast pocket, my heart pounding as he opened the SA app and tapped at his phone screen. A moment later, my own phone buzzed in my clutch purse. With trembling fingers, I retrieved it and saw the notification:

Congratulations! Lucas has made you a sponsorship offer!

I tapped to open it, my eyes widening as I saw the details. The monthly allowance was more than I’d ever dreamed of—enough to cover all my expenses and then some. There were other perks listed too—a clothing budget, access to Lucas’ personal stylist, even the possibility of accompanying him to select events.

At the bottom was a simple button: ‘Accept Offer.’

I glanced up at Lucas, who was watching me intently, those piercing blue eyes seeming to see right through me. My finger hovered over the button as a mix of excitement and trepidation swirled within me. This was it—the moment that would change everything.

Taking a deep breath, I tapped ‘Accept.’

Lucas’ smile was dazzling. “Excellent,” he purred. “Now, shall we head back to your apartment? I’d like to… get to know my new associate better.”

The low, sensual tone of his voice sent shivers down my spine. I nodded mutely, suddenly finding it difficult to form words.

My heart pounded as we stepped out of the restaurant into the warm Parisian night. Lucas’ hand rested on the small of my back, a possessive gesture that sent tingles through my body, a very different sensation from Martin’s touch the previous night. The sleek black limousine waited at the curb, its polished surface gleaming under the streetlights.

As we settled into the plush leather seats, I felt a heady mix of anxiety and arousal. Lucas sat close, his thigh pressing against mine. The heat of his body seemed to radiate through the thin fabric of my dress.

“Your apartment, I believe?” Lucas murmured, his voice low and intimate.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. As the limo glided through the darkened streets, I couldn’t help but imagine what awaited us. Would Lucas be gentle? Demanding? My body thrummed with anticipation.

All too soon, we arrived at my building. Lucas helped me out of the car, his strong hand engulfing mine. We stood for a moment on the sidewalk, gazing up at the weathered facade.

“Fifth floor, no?” Lucas asked with a slight smile. I nodded again, suddenly very aware of the lack of an elevator.

As we began to climb the narrow staircase, the reality of what was about to happen hit me full force. I was bringing Lucas Moreau—international football star and my new sponsor—back to my tiny apartment. My heart raced with a mixture of anxiety and excitement. Each step brought us closer to my apartment—and to whatever Lucas had in mind for me. I could feel the heat of his body behind me, his presence both thrilling and intimidating.

By the time we reached the fifth floor, I was slightly out of breath, my cheeks flushed. As I fumbled with my keys, I felt Lucas’ eyes on me, appraising. A shiver ran through me at the thought of what he might be imagining.

He’s going to fuck me , I thought. He’s going to drive his hardness into me, and… and I’m going to have to… I’m going to…

I’m going to be fucked tonight .

Relief rose in my chest that Lucas couldn’t see my face, just then. I had made up my mind to try… to do my best to submit to Lucas Moreau… to let him have his way just as he pleased.

Finally, the lock clicked open. I stepped inside, Lucas following close behind. The soft thud of the door closing seemed to echo in the small space. For a moment, we stood in silence, the air thick with tension and unspoken desires.

I turned to face Lucas, my breath catching at the intensity in his gaze. His blue eyes had darkened, filled with a hunger that both thrilled and terrified me. My resolve of a moment before, to submit, wavered. I knew some of what this man expected, the same thing Martin had expected—the thing I had agreed to by accepting his offer. Fucking. My body thrummed with arousal, even as nerves fluttered in my stomach.

Just submit , I told myself. Let him take control .

But as I opened my mouth to speak—to offer myself to him, perhaps—Lucas’ expression suddenly changed. The warmth I’d glimpsed earlier vanished, replaced by a cold, almost cruel smile that made my blood run cold.

“Tell me, Alice,” he said, his voice stern, a sonic match for his terrifying face, “did you enjoy yourself last night?”

I blinked in confusion. “Last night? I’m not sure what you?—”

“Oh, I think you do,” he interrupted, his blue eyes boring into mine. “You see, the Selecta Arrangements app is quite… thorough in its communication with Platinum Elite members like me. I received a notification informing me that you were engaging in some rather self-indulgent activities.”

My blood ran cold as understanding dawned. No. It couldn’t be.

“What do you mean?” I whispered, though I already knew the answer.

Lucas’ lips curved into a predatory smile. “I mean, my dear, that I was alerted when you began touching yourself. And I was given the opportunity to watch.”

Shame and horror flooded through me. I felt my face flame scarlet as I remembered my fevered imaginings, my fingers working desperately between my thighs as I pictured Lucas spanking me.

“That’s… that’s impossible,” I stammered. “How could you possibly?—”

“Observe?” Lucas said coolly. He pulled out his phone and tapped the screen a few times. Suddenly, the lights in my apartment dimmed. A panel slid open in the wall, revealing a hidden screen that flickered to life.

I stared at the screen in abject horror, my mind reeling as I watched myself writhing on the bed, lost in the throes of self-pleasure. The footage was grainy but unmistakable. My face burned with humiliation as I realized Lucas had seen everything—my most private, intimate moments laid bare.

“No,” I whispered, shaking my head in denial. “This can’t be real. How is this possible?”

Lucas stepped closer, his imposing presence filling my senses. “Oh, it’s very real, ma chère . The Selecta Arrangements program is quite thorough in monitoring its associates. For your protection, of course, as well as my pleasure.”