Revenge amnesia upgraded to his brother novel Chapter 131

**The Goodbye That Never Reached You and My Life Chasing 131**

Norah’s POV

“Lucien! Have you completely lost your mind?” I whispered fiercely, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst from my chest.

Just a few steps away, the photoshoot was in full swing, and the crew was oblivious to the storm brewing between us.

He held me close, his breath warm and intoxicating as it enveloped my hair, sending a shiver of both fear and excitement down my spine.

In his eyes, I could see a tempest of anger mixed with an undeniable desire, swirling like dark clouds before a thunderstorm.

“Maybe I have,” he growled, his voice low and gravelly, as if he were struggling to contain the tumult within him. “Watching her bark orders at you, seeing the way she looks at you—it’s infuriating, Norah.”

“This is all part of the plan,” I reminded him, desperately trying to maintain my composure. But my body was already betraying me, heat pooling where he pressed against me, igniting a fire I could hardly control.

“Forget the plan. I want you. Right here. Right now.” His curse was a rough whisper that sent a jolt of electricity coursing through me, just before his lips crashed down onto mine.

The kiss was nothing short of fierce—teeth clashing, tongues dancing, a claim of possession that left me breathless. I tried to push him away, my palms flat against his chest, but his arms were like iron, holding me captive in a whirlwind of passion. He deepened the kiss, his urgency only fueling the fire within me.

A familiar shiver shot down my spine, igniting every nerve ending.

With a choked gasp, I found myself fisting my hands in his jacket, surrendering to the moment as I kissed him back with equal fervor.

The kiss transformed from a punishing assault to something deeper, more lingering. One of his hands tangled in my hair, holding me in place, while the other slid down my waist, over the soft fabric of my dress, and boldly palmed my backside, pulling me against him until not a breath of air separated us.

I could feel him—hard and burning—pressed against my stomach, igniting a wild desire within me.

My legs turned to jelly, leaving me no choice but to cling to him for support.

The air around us grew thin, almost suffocating, thick with the intoxicating scent of lust.

“Mmm… Lucien… not here…” I managed to whisper between ragged breaths, my mind racing with the implications of our reckless abandon.

“Don’t care.” His lips left mine, trailing hot, wet kisses down to my earlobe, then my neck, where his breath sent shivers cascading over my skin. “Do you hear that? She’s still out there. Smiling, posing, playing pretend… And all I want is to make my woman scream.”

His crude words, laced with raw desire and urgency, mixed with the faint sounds of Amélie’s laughter drifting from beyond the bushes, sent another wave of heat coursing through my body.

Feeling emboldened, I reached down and unbuckled his belt, my heart racing at the thrill of my boldness.

Lucien froze for a moment, surprise flickering across his features. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, his arm tightened around me, possessive and unwavering.

His other hand slid lower, igniting my senses.

His palm was scorching against the thin fabric of my dress, tracing my spine before boldly cupping my backside. His fingers pressed against me, exploring the seam of my jeans through the fabric, dipping in just enough to elicit a gasp from my lips.

I stiffened, caught off guard by the intensity of his touch.

His lips found my earlobe again, teeth grazing the sensitive skin as if to remind me of the danger we were in.

Meanwhile, his other hand found its way to my breast, my nipple already hard beneath the fabric of my dress. He rubbed it firmly with his thumb, sending jolts of pleasure radiating through me.

Then, lowering his head, he bit down—not too gently, but not too hard either.

“Ah-!” I gasped, the sound escaping my lips sharper and louder than I intended. The dual assault of his lips and hands made my knees buckle, forcing me to cling to his shoulders for support.

Outside the bushes, Amélie’s laughter floated over, her voice ringing out as she chatted with the photographer about the next pose.

Danger loomed.

We could be discovered at any moment.

A wave of madness surged within me—an intoxicating mix of revenge, defiance, and pure need.

I obeyed, reaching out to grip the rough shrubs in front of me, feeling exposed and vulnerable. I could sense all of him—his weight, his heat, the aggressive intent radiating from him.

“Your bride-to-be is still posing for pictures…” I taunted breathlessly, unable to resist the urge to provoke him. “What would she say if she knew how hard you are for me?”

“Then let her hear.” He didn’t rush his movements. One hand returned to my wetness, tormenting me, while the other kneaded my backside, his fingers brushing deliberately against that other tight, forbidden entrance.

“Ms. Veyron, a little more smile…” The photographer’s voice drifted from the other side of the bushes, followed by the soft click of the shutter.

The sound hit me like a starting gun.

Lucien lifted my hips from behind, bending me lower, his intent clear.

Then, the burning tip of him pressed against me, and he pushed in—slow, deliberate, filling me completely.

“Mmm, ah…” I bit down on my own hand to muffle the cry, the sensation of being filled like this, in this place, was unbearably thrilling.

He buried himself deep but held still, allowing me to feel every inch of him. Then he began to move, a slow, deep grind that hit the most sensitive spot within me with every stroke.

“Yes, just like that, keep smiling…” The photographer’s direction continued, a surreal soundtrack to the chaos unfolding between us.

Lucien moved inside me, his hand coming around to knead my breast, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through me.

The pleasure built in relentless waves, a crescendo of sensation that threatened to overwhelm me.

I bit my lip raw, terrified of making a sound, but my body rocked back against him, betraying my struggle for control.

His other hand settled over my lower abdomen—a possessive, protective gesture he probably didn’t even realize he was making, shielding the very place that craved him most.

Just as I felt myself teetering on the edge of ecstasy—

“Perfect! Ms. Veyron, let’s change the scene. How about a few more shots over here, by these bushes? More natural light!”