Cruelle, Darling

...Temptations~Pt. 2 (Fin)

~Author's Note: WARNING: Lemon ahead!! Please do not read if you're not comfortable with this type of material or are not the appropriate age :)~

~This part, otherwise, is a bit long. But I sincerely hope you guys enjoy it!! Also, though this isn't my first lemon, it's the first time in years that I've made one public. Hopefully this goes well lol~

"Hey, Carl," you breathe as you greet the desk clerk of Cruelle's loft.

"Oh, hello again, Miss (y/n)," he smiles. "Here to pick up Mr. De Vil's belongings?"
"Yup."

He nods and retrieves a guest access card to Cruelle's floor. "He's actually in at the moment," he says.

Your brows furrow. "He is?"

You take the card from him while he explains that your boss came back early from the conference that would've kept him busy till just before the party, which is why you were ordered to pick up his outfit in the first place. Sure enough, when you open the double black doors to the living room portion of the loft, you see Cruelle's clothes strewn unceremoniously across the marble floor. You pick up the articles and fold them neatly on the squared, white couch and call out "Cruelle?"

For a second or two, your voices ricochets off the stainless steel and glass interior until a heaving, exhausted sigh sounds.

"Over here, darling," Cruelle breathes. You follow his voice towards the patio, but your heart rate skyrockets at the sound of the bubbling drone of the Jacuzzi, because, drawing from prior knowledge, it means one thing:

Cruelle's naked.

You halt in the vaulted glass room just so your boss' extended arm atop the brim is visible with cigarette holder in fingers. He runs a wide hand through his soaked hair, black and white tendrils blending together in a sleeked back gloss against the raised muscles of his neck and shoulders.

With leaden steps, you approach the open patio door. Your footsteps draw Cruelle's half-lidded eyes over after he leans his head back and exhales a billow of smoke. He gives you a lazy smirk. "Hello, Clarisse," he hums.

You stop when you can make out the pale, wavering image of his bare legs. "What're you doing back already?" you ask. "I thought you were supposed to be at the conference."

He makes a disgusted noise and faces away. "To say I was mind-numbingly bored would be a compliment to those idiots," he grumbles.

You laugh softly. "I take it you didn't have fun?" you taunt. His torso bounces with a scoff. "Alright, well, since you're here, I guess I don't need to have your outfit ready."

"No, I'm afraid that task still applies to you, dear." Cruelle leans forward and runs both hands through his hair again and turns to face you, languidly crossing his arms on the brim.

Beads of searing water trickle down the muscled crevices of his jugular and pool in the sunken dip of his collarbone before falling into the shadows of his pectorals. "Aren't you done for the day?" you manage to ask.

"Wishful thinking, Miss (y/n). Unfortunately, my presence and attention is required elsewhere until the party." He stares off at the amber horizon of Hyde Park then back at your clearly strained bearing. He smirks. "However, since I'm here, I suppose I'll spare you the trouble of at least preparing my ensemble."

The water sloshes about when Cruelle shifts to stand. Your eyes lower out of pure habit down the rippled, alabaster plane of his nude body and immediately dart to the sky at the sight of his plunging V of sinew. As if having no regard for your blatant onceover or the fact that he's stark naked, he exits the Jacuzzi and walks past you. His wet footsteps disappear into the master bedroom and it's only then that you release the breath you've been holding with a sharp incoherency.