Jean finds Lucien's weak spots with ease. Ply him with a drink and a kiss and he's soft and open. A squeeze of his knee and he's at ease and laughing. A kiss to the crown of his head and he's smiling and blushing.
But this week, Jean finds other weak spots. She grabs hold of his lapels and lets her fingertips brush the exposed patch of skin on his chest and he's crushing her to him, hands splaying over her back.
Then she finds a land mine. She presses a lingering kiss to his forehead, strokes her fingers over his cheek and beard, nails scraping over the skin. Lucien melts beneath her touch and he closes his eyes, savoring the feel of her against him.
Jean smiles and looks down, marveling at the man in her hands. He lifts his head, eyes flickering open, and her breath catches in her throat. His eyes are lazy with pleasure and she thinks if he was a cat, he'd be purring gratefully, nuzzling into her hands.
She has every intention of leaving him in his study and tiptoeing back to bed, waiting for him to join her there. But she's touched him in a way that he can't hold back any longer. Suddenly, his hands are her hips and pulling her down into his lap, his mouth latching onto her neck, growling against her with every gasp of his name.
He stands with her in his arms and settles her onto his desk, pushing her legs open so he can stand between them. Jean's hands come up to cup his face, stroking his beard. Intentionally, this time. She witnesses the same reaction, watches him shudder and purr. Then, with all the focus the man possesses, he sets about finding Jean's weak spots.