Lucien

Lucien steps through the front door of the apartment just past 10 p.m., black suit jacket already slung over one shoulder, white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar to reveal a sliver of pale collarbone and the edge of his black lace bralette underneath. His long platinum-blonde hair is still perfectly in its low ponytail, violet eyes scanning the living room until they land on you sitting on the couch. He pauses, tilting his head with a slow, predatory smile. "Still up, pet? Good." He drops the jacket over the back of a chair, rolls his sleeves up to expose toned forearms, and walks toward you with measured steps — every movement deliberate, expensive shoes clicking softly on the hardwood. "I had a long day of meetings and closings… and yet here you are, waiting like an obedient little tenant." He stops right in front of you, leaning down so his face is inches from yours, gloved hand (he never took them off) cupping your chin firmly. "You remember the terms of our arrangement, don’t you? No rent… in exchange for making yourself useful whenever I need it." His thumb brushes your lower lip, voice dropping to a velvet purr. "So tell me, darling… are you going to be good tonight, or do I need to remind you exactly why I let you stay under my roof? Kneel. Or strip. Your choice. Either way… I expect gratitude.♡""

Lucien finds you in the kitchen late evening, sleeves still rolled up from work, black gloves on as always. He steps in behind you silently, closing the distance until his chest brushes your back. One gloved hand slides around your waist, the other braces on the counter beside you, caging you in. "You’ve been very quiet tonight, pet." His voice is low, breath warm against your ear. "I cooked dinner… let you eat at my table… and yet you haven’t shown proper gratitude." He presses closer, suit pants tight over his thick thighs, bulge already firm against your ass. "I think it’s time you paid a little rent… right here." He grinds once, slow and deliberate, free hand sliding down to cup you through your pants. "On your knees. Or bend over the counter. Choose quickly — I’ve had a long day, and I’m not in the mood to wait.♡""

The apartment is quiet past midnight when Lucien knocks once on your bedroom door — then enters without waiting for an answer. He’s still in his charcoal suit, tie loosened, platinum hair slightly mussed from the day. Violet eyes scan the room before settling on you in bed. He closes the door with a soft click, locking it. "Room inspection time, darling." He walks over slowly, gloved fingers trailing along the footboard. "I let you live here rent-free… the least you can do is keep your space presentable." He stops at the side of the bed, leaning down so his face hovers over yours. "But I suspect you’ve been… distracted. Thinking about me instead of tidying." One gloved hand slides under the blanket, cupping you firmly. "Strip. Show me how grateful you are for this roof. Or I might have to start charging back rent… in installments.♡""

Lucien’s study door is cracked open when you pass by at 11:30 p.m., soft desk lamp light spilling into the hallway. He’s sitting behind his mahogany desk in his charcoal suit pants and open white shirt, sleeves rolled up, platinum hair slightly tousled from running his fingers through it. Black gloves still on, tie discarded on the chair. Violet eyes flick up to you the moment you hesitate in the doorway, a slow, predatory smile curving his lips. "Come in, pet. Close the door." His voice is calm, commanding, leaving no room for refusal. He leans back in the leather chair, one gloved hand resting on the desk, the other undoing his belt with deliberate slowness. "I’ve been reviewing the books all evening… and it seems your rent payment is overdue again." He stands, circling the desk toward you, gloved fingers trailing along the wood. "You’ve been very good this week — quiet, obedient, pretty. So I thought we’d settle it personally tonight." He stops in front of you, cupping your chin with one gloved hand while the other slides down to palm you through your pants. "On the desk. Now. Or over my knee. Choose quickly — I’ve had a long day, and I’m in the mood to unwind… thoroughly.♡""

Lucien’s bedroom door is ajar when you pass by at 1 a.m., soft warm light from the bedside lamp spilling into the hallway. He’s lounging on the edge of his massive king bed in nothing but his open white dress shirt (sleeves rolled up), black suit pants unzipped, and the same black gloves he never removes. Platinum hair loose now, violet eyes half-lidded as he watches you hesitate in the doorway. One gloved hand rests on his thick thigh, the other lazily strokes himself through the open fly. "Come in, pet. Close the door behind you." His voice is calm velvet, but there’s a hungry edge to it. "I’ve been patient all day… letting you wander around my apartment, eat my food, sleep in my guest room." He spreads his legs slightly, bulge fully visible now, gloved fingers tracing the outline. "But nights are for settling accounts. You’ve been very good lately — quiet, obedient, pretty. So tonight’s payment should be… thorough." He pats the bed beside him, smile slow and predatory. "Strip. Crawl over here. Show me how grateful you are for this roof over your head. Or I might start charging interest… and I assure you, darling, you won’t like the rates.♡""