Chapter Three
Lucian watched her expression shift after he spoke. Something flickered in her eyes, and he recognized it was what was reflected in his own eyes: anticipation, excitement, desire.
This was the moment he craved. That he kept searching for with each subsequent encounter. That moment right before anything happened, when everything was a possibility, and there was no telling what might happen.
He put his hands on either side of her waist, softly, gently, so she wouldn’t feel trapped. He began to draw closer to her, slowly enough so she could refuse if she had second thoughts.
She did not. Instead, she lifted her face toward his, licking her lips in a nervous gesture.
“Have you been kissed before?”
he asked, raising one hand to place his fingers on her jawline. He would guess not, given that she hadn’t even had a debut.
A quick shake of her head, and he knew he would have to make this, her first kiss, as memorable as possible. But not move too quickly in any way, because that wouldn’t be right for myriad reasons.
He slid his fingers over her skin, then placed his index finger on her mouth, feeling the soft plushness of her lip. “Bite it,” he said.
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Bite it?”
she said, and he took the opportunity when she was speaking to move his finger inside.
“Bite it,”
he said, with enough of a commanding tone to ensure compliance. If the other person was amenable to being told what to do, that was.
It seemed she was.
She bit down, and he felt the impact of the sharp sensation throughout his entire body. Especially there. Desire was so much more than the actual act of whatever it was people got up to together: desire, passion, was about all the moments. Moments when nothing was happening, physically, but the thoughts of the people involved were whirling, anticipating, planning.
Then he nearly stopped thinking altogether when she licked his finger, sucking it a little bit more into her mouth.
He couldn’t help but groan, and she gave a noise of satisfaction. He withdrew his finger slowly, then put the same hand at the nape of her neck. Holding her, supporting her as he kept his gaze on her mouth.
And then he was kissing her.
Softly at first, gently, getting her accustomed to the sensation. Learning her mouth, aware that she had tensed, waiting for her to relax before moving to the next.
She had her hands at his waist also, and she gripped him, startling him with the ticklish sensation, but he didn’t react or draw away. It was all part of the experience.
At last, after a few long moments of just putting his mouth on hers, he felt her position grow softer, and he licked at her mouth, making her utter a startled gasp.
And then he slid his tongue inside, again savoring the action rather than rushing to completion. Her mouth was warm and wet, and at first she didn’t do anything, so he kept himself nearly still.
He heard her inhale, then her tongue met his, and she began to explore his mouth, tentatively at first, and then with more enthusiasm.
God, it was wonderful. And it was just a kiss. Nothing more, and yet it was completely satisfying, subsuming his entire body, making all of him focused on the connection—both physical and emotional—they were having in this small anteroom filled with hideous shawls.
He was acutely aware of the sounds around them: the faint drift of music from the ballroom, their breathing, the rustling of bodies against the various outer garments.
It felt as though they were in their own world, one where they could just kiss and kiss and kiss forever.
He’d like to live there, to be honest. The moment felt both warm and passionate, the conversation they’d shared thus far giving them a connection that led inexorably to this moment.
And then he lost himself again in it, in the feeling of their tongues entwining, clashing, in the increased fervor of their kiss. The soft plushness of her lips, the faint scrape of teeth as they shifted position.
Every emotion, every feeling, heightened because of the inherent clandestine nature of the kiss.
This was absolutely a compromising situation—even if they hadn’t thrust their tongues into one another’s mouths—and he did not want to trap her into something neither of them wanted.
So he slowed, even though it was nearly impossible to deny his desires, and slid his fingers from the back of her head to her neck, caressing the skin there, returning to just having his mouth on hers.
Eventually, they parted, and she gazed up at him, her eyes dazzlingly bright, and he had an unfamiliar moment where his chest ached because it was now over.
He rarely had regrets about anything. Living life to the utmost required that. But now he wished he had more time, more moments with her that weren’t here and now. He wanted to find out what else she wished for, what she wanted to do, and know if their interests aligned.
Not just sexually, although that was certainly part of it. But it was clear she longed for something, something he wondered if he could give her.
Did he want to pursue that? The thought caught him off guard.
He usually knew what he wanted. But this? This was a different experience. One he already knew would stand out in his memory.
What had Shammie said? I just hope you can find someone as perfect for you as Julia is for me.
Not that he was planning on marriage or anything that dire. The last thing he wanted was that kind of responsibility.
But she wanted, and so did he. It was as simple as that. It was how he led his life, after all.
“Well,”
she said, again using that quick, awkward tone she’d used when mentioning the naked statues, “that was most definitely fun.”
She dipped her head. “Thank you, my lord.”
Before he could stop her, before he could say a word, she’d left, opening the door just enough to let her out, shutting it quickly behind her.
Leaving him alone in the anteroom wondering what the odd feeling in his chest was.
Diantha walked back into the ballroom, feeling as though—well, there was no way to describe how she felt. Exhilarated, mortified, intrigued, and regretful all at once. As though she was made of all separate parts, each of which had their own opinion on what had just happened.
Her first kiss. That was what had just happened.
With the most attractive man she’d ever seen. And what was worse, she thought ruefully, he wasn’t a complete idiot. Not even a partial one.
In fact, he was so interesting to talk to that she’d nearly forgotten for a few seconds just how attractive he was.
Only for a few seconds, however.
At least she had fulfilled her promise to herself: she’d had fun. A veritable adventure.
One that she could never repeat, not least of which was because their parents were mortal enemies.
Because that had worked out so well for Romeo and Juliet . . .
“Diantha!”
she heard Julia exclaim.
She quickly tried to assume a banal expression, the expression of someone who had most definitely not been kissed in an anteroom, observed only by her mother’s horrendous shawl and a collection of other aristocratic garments.
“Yes?”
she said, startled to hear her voice emerge like a squeak from her throat. Diantha did not squeak. She placated, she negotiated, and occasionally she ordered, but she did not squeak.
Though, apparently this was to be a night of firsts.
“We’re about to announce ourselves for the first time as husband and wife. Isn’t it exciting? I asked them to hold off until I could find you,”
Julia continued. She took Diantha’s arm and led her to where the musicians had been, now empty. “Father and Shammie’s parents are just over there, and I would like you to stand beside me.”
Stand beside Julia in front of all the guests—Society’s finest and not so finest people—when she felt as though she was going to conflagrate from the inside out.
Though if she did, perhaps she’d end up burning her mother’s shawl, so it wouldn’t all be terrible.
“Of course,”
Diantha murmured, walking alongside her friend.
Most of the guests were standing attentively, all of them perfectly aware of what was about to take place, but still eager to hear the official announcement.
Julia’s husband came to stand on the other side of her friend, and Diantha couldn’t help but smile at how fondly he was looking at her. Yes, it was an excellent marriage for financial and status reasons, but it was also clear the two of them cared for each other. Loved one another, if Diantha could be so bold.
And she could. At least within her own mind.
Which immediately reminded her of how she’d been bold with him.
“Thank you to everyone who joined us here this evening,”
Julia’s father began, and Diantha let her mind drift.
To twenty minutes ago, when she and Lucifer were together, alone, in the anteroom. It had felt like they were in their own world, without responsibilities, without wayward, feuding parents, or any kind of proper behavior.
She’d asked for what she wanted.
What she’d gotten was so much more than what she’d ever anticipated. The close warmth of his body, how he’d been so . . . so courteous prior to kissing her. She’d never have imagined a gentleman would be so conscientious, making certain she was comfortable before proceeding.
And then the kiss itself had been spectacular. The first moment, where it was just lips on lips, then when he slid his tongue into her mouth. When she’d gotten bold enough—that word again—to do the same to him.
Well, she thought ruefully, if I was going to be reckless, that was about the most reckless thing I could have done: kissed a stranger at a ball, with hundreds of guests on the other side of the door, only too happy to gossip if anyone had seen them.
But no one had. It was her—and his—secret to keep.
In that way, it was well worth the risk. Now she’d had her first kiss and been adventurous and reckless for the first time ever as well.
And neither of them would ever tell, since the consequences would be enormous. There was no possibility, either, of their risking it again. One time was a risk; another time would be asking for discovery.
That future kisses might not be as good was only a tiny worry in this moment.
She was jarred out of her thoughts when Julia spoke her name. “I look forward to being an old married woman with my best friend Diantha,”
she was saying, accompanying her words with a squeeze of Diantha’s hand.
Julia would be even more proud of her when she heard what she’d done—though, she could not tell Julia with whom. Though, of course it would be obvious.
So perhaps she should not say anything to her best friend.
Having fun, being kissed, and keeping secrets. Tonight was a night of firsts.
“Where is Lucian?”
Julia’s husband called, making Diantha’s heart start to race. But of course it would be natural for Lord Samuel to want to see Lucifer—Lord Lucian, that was—because they were as good of friends as Julia and Diantha were.
Even more reason not to tell Julia.
“Here!”
he called, making his way through the crowd to the dais. Diantha couldn’t take her eyes off him. He was truly as handsome as she’d first thought, and—goodness!—was his mouth skillful. Not that she knew how to gauge skillful kissing, what with this evening being her first time, but she imagined that if it caused tiny shivers of exhilaration to travel through her body, it had to be fairly good.
He met her gaze and gave her a slight, knowing smile. One that said Yes, we were just kissing in that room over there, and we both enjoyed it.
And he wasn’t lying, even though she’d just made up his words in her head.
Even though she knew her first experiment with fun would have to be her last. She could literally not afford to stop paying attention to her family’s affairs or they would be eating bread and cheese. Or whatever the opposite of lobsters were—sprats, perhaps, or eels if they were fortunate.
She would not risk any eel times. She would have to ensure her family was secure before she took care of herself.