Chapter 52 #2
“What about you?” Lucan turns the question around. “Surely, you must have your own mixed feelings surrounding a man who was adopted by the vicar after all he’s done to you.”
“You were orphaned. I can’t fault you for clinging to the people essential to your survival. Doing so would make me a monster worse than the dragons.”
“Worse than the dragons,” he echoes under his breath with a small huff of amusement.
I continue, “And besides, it’s not as though you have a deep, abiding love or loyalty for the vicar or the Creed.”
“Hardly.” He scoffs.
“Most of my ‘mixed feelings’ surrounding you now come from not knowing what this is…”
Lucan examines me. His thumb glides over the backs of my knuckles, and I don’t know if the movement is entirely conscious.
I think…I hope it’s not. I hope he’s as drawn to touch me as I am to him.
I take a half step forward. The space between us collapses into a dangerously small distance.
Yet so much room still for anything to happen. Or nothing.
“I might be inexperienced. But I’m pretty sure I can tell you what this is.”
“Can you?” My voice is soft.
“You want me.”
I swallow thickly. Three words I’ve only just admitted to myself. So plain. Simple. Obvious.
He continues to study me. “You want me…and that scares you.” His eyes narrow slightly. “Why?”
“Because I’m afraid of letting someone in.” His brow furrows, and I take a deep, silent breath. Don’t ruin the moment. “And, I…I don’t have very much experience in this, either,” I admit.
Lucan’s expression relaxes, a smile flashing across his face. He leans forward, and the hand not laced with my own cups my cheek, guiding my face upward with a featherlight touch. “We can figure it out, together, if you’re willing.”
A shiver rips through me from his touch. From the implication. From…suddenly not being so afraid. We’re both at a loss. We could both find each other, ourselves in each other. There’s a curl of something exciting that collects in my gut at the notion.
“You’re sure?” I whisper.
“No.” A slight smirk that’s somehow even more reassuring despite what he said.
I can’t stop the smallest of laughs. “Good. Neither am I.”
“I want to kiss you,” he says like it’s nothing, and I forget how to breathe.
The fear that streaks through me is nothing like when I’m facing a dragon or squaring off with the vicar.
It’s a different sort of fear. One that propels me forward into the unknown.
Lucan searches my eyes, oblivious to my pounding heart, as if waiting for me to say no.
I don’t say no.
And he leans down more. My eyes dip closed on instinct, even though a part of me wants to watch him.
I inhale slowly, my chest nearly brushing against his.
The heat within me is as overwhelming as what radiates off his body.
It’s too much and not enough at the same time.
Enough that it would put the sun to shame.
Lucan pauses, lips quivering so close to mine that I can feel our breaths mingling. Time itself changes into something far more nebulous. It fades away with the rest of the world. We stand at the beginning and the end—of what? I don’t know yet.
Like the ignition spark of a cannon, like the snap of a crossbow or toll of the bells, he closes the last distance in a rush. His lips meet mine. Timid at first. Just a brush—barely-there contact that’s so much softer than I could’ve imagined.
Lucan pulls away suddenly, and my eyes snap open.
He’s studying me as though searching for some kind of sign that what he’s done is all right.
I respond by gripping onto the sides of his jerkin, clinging for stability as the laces of my own are suddenly too tight—so tight my head spins, as I pull him back to me.
I want more. That wasn’t enough, not by even a half measure. My body is on fire, and he’s the spark… He needs to take responsibility for the blaze.
This second kiss is unyielding and gloriously messy.
We’ve tasted something forbidden and realized we’re starving.
Now that we know it can be done, we’re suddenly trying to find every way our mouths can fit together.
Lips shift and move, and teeth hit awkwardly, but it somehow only enhances, rather than has me dying from embarrassment.
He tastes of smoke and secrets. He’s fire under my hands.
My heart hammers but for once doesn’t shudder or skip. My skin tingles but doesn’t itch. My mind is blissfully calm, thoughts focused on him and him alone.
It’s as if this is what my body was waiting for all along. I respond with a fervor I didn’t know I possessed. Moving on instincts I didn’t know I had.
He releases my hand, gripping my waist like he’s afraid I’ll vanish if he doesn’t, that this is all some kind of delicious fever dream.
He tugs our bodies even closer, like he can’t get enough of the shape of me pressed against his hard lines.
His other hand ventures from my cheek to the nape of my neck, fingers tangling in my loose hair.
Give yourself to me, his every movement seems to whisper.
And all I can think of in reply is, Yes.
With a shift of his mouth and press of his thumb at the edge of my jaw, he guides my lips to part slightly. His tongue gently probes for entry. I grant it and immediately get a jolt akin to Ether as he deepens the kiss.
A growl rises from the back of his throat. Primal. Almost feral. It nearly makes my knees melt, and I’m grateful for the hold he has on me. My jaw relaxes further. His tongue gains full access, and Lucan kisses me fiercely, as though he intends to devour me.
I grip him as tightly as he does me. My body responds to his every touch with goose bumps and soft sighs that have almost become moans. His hands begin to roam—caressing and exploring every curve covered by thick leather as our tongues dance.
Never have I touched or been touched like this and… Dragons above, Font below, it feels so good. My whole body is on fire. I could do this for hours.
We seek more of each other. All of it. I want to lose myself in the submission, the surrender, to whatever this is. I’ve spent my whole life being wanted by the world around me for what I could offer, but this feels like the first time anyone has ever needed me for who I really am.
It’s as though he’s killing me slowly, and I’ve never felt so alive.
Then, as quickly as the moment began, the kiss comes to an abrupt end. Lucan pulls away slightly, his breathing heavy and eyes shining in the hazy glow of the sconce light with a desire that I can’t believe I’ve caused.
“Isola.” My name is a groan—no, a growl. It calls out to the primal part of me that I’ve never even acknowledged before him. Lucan’s eyes lock with mine. “I want to devour you.”
He means it. Every word. His finger trails down my spine with a gentle caress that promises the opposite.
“I could be consumed by you.” I tilt my head back as he leans down like he can’t stop himself to place soft kisses along my jawline and down my neck. A gasp escapes me as I realize just how sensitive the skin is there—more than I’ve ever realized.
“Don’t say that.” He takes my skin between his teeth, right at the hem of my vest collar. My breath turns into a low moan, and I hold him tighter. “Or else I will. Gladly.”
My eyes press closed, and I lean farther into him. Our hips press together, and I feel every glorious part of him and want more.
I’m ready to surrender myself entirely—to tell him to take it all and then some, even as the notion terrifies and thrills me.
Nothing could make me pull away from this man.
Almost nothing.
“Isola Thaz and Lucan Darius.” Horror and disgust war in the prelate’s tone.
Shock relaxes our grip more than conscious choice. I’m still half leaned back, his face by my neck. My fingers are so knotted with the laces of his jerkin that they don’t fall away when they go limp. She and three other inquisitors loom in the archway of the room.
Is she going to tell my father? I hate that the question jumps into my mind with a girl-like panic. Even if she does, what I do when it comes to matters of the heart or body isn’t his business. By Vinguard’s standards, I’m a woman grown.
But…were she to tell the vicar… Vicar Darius does see himself as having control over anything that relates to me. What would the vicar do if he found out? I shudder even trying to imagine it.
My cheeks flame with raw hate for his prelate ruining the one truly good moment I’ve had since coming to this abysmal place.
But she’s not done. “You both need to come with us for sequestering.”
“Sequestering?” Lucan straightens, hands still on my hips. The way he holds me feels protective, and I lean into him slightly.
“Indeed. This way.” She half turns, waiting for us to follow.
For a second, neither of us do. We share an uncertain look, as if searching for a way out of this…but there isn’t one.
Cheeks burning, I release him, ball my hands into fists, and lead the way. Lucan is close behind; he’s the only thing that lends me strength as we descend through the monastery.
We enter the large basement that I suspect is the same one Saipha and I were trapped in on the second night. Except this time, it doesn’t have the unnatural aroma of green dragon vapor. And, this time, it’s lit.
It’s empty, save for three cages.