Chapter 24 #3
Here she was confident. He wanted her. The truth of that could not be more apparent. At least, no matter what happened, they would always have this. A way to communicate without words... A means to bridge the gap between them. And she trusted this, if nothing else.
Afterward, they lay in the still darkness of his room, limbs entwined, and naked flesh pressed against each other. Lucien stroked her back with trailing fingertips, as though lost deep in thought.
"Having regrets?" Ianthe teased, tiptoeing her fingers up the hard plane of his stomach.
Lucien shifted, turning so that they were face-to-face, their palms linked. "About?"
"The thought of being leg-shackled?"
Heat darkened his eyes, and his palm curled over her hip, sliding down to cup her bare bottom. "There are other compensations, I'm finding." He leaned forward to tongue her breast. "Like having you at my beck and call, day and night."
Ianthe moaned, submitting to his skilled mouth. They weren't the words she'd hoped for, but then, she was the one who'd begun in a teasing manner. Cupping his cheek, she forced his mouth from her skin. If he started this again, she'd never get any sleep. "Lucien."
"I like that." A rumble sounded from deep within his chest, like a cat's purr. Lucien tucked his head beneath her jaw, nibbling at her throat. "My name on your lips."
"I like it too." Unbidden, she tilted her face up, allowing him access to her exposed throat. Soft lips traced her collarbone. It was a slower seduction than any he'd undertaken before.
But then, it had never meant anything before beyond sex.
Ianthe bit her lip. She could feel the change between them, tenuous and delicate.
He touched her with reverent hands, curious and explorative, as though he had all the time in the world to learn her.
Or as though he was intricately interested in each inch of skin beneath his touch.
She didn't know what to make of it. All she knew was that she liked it.
Immensely. It felt like she was a precious, precious thing, held in his protective hands.
It felt like he cared, like she was the only woman he wanted. Ever.
With a sigh, her thighs parted, and Lucien came over her, the tip of his cock breaching her soft core. One hand cupped under her bottom, he thrust hard, filling her to the core. Ianthe gasped.
"Gods woman, I can never get enough of you." Lucien nipped her chin, then soothed the small ache with a kiss. "You feel so fucking good."
And so did he. Every inch of him burned within her, his weight a welcome... Every inch. Her eyes went wide.
"Stop!" Ianthe's hand pressed against his chest, staying him.
Faint light from the fire warmed the sharp line of his cheek and lit those devilish eyes. "What's wrong?"
"It feels too good," she whispered, "because we forgot the sheath!"
Lucien groaned and buried his face in the pillow beside her ear. "I forgot." His hips gave one last tiny, yearning thrust. "Not that I would regret it. Lady's choice, however." Resting on his forearms, he began to withdraw.
"Wait," she whispered.
Their eyes met.
Ianthe couldn't quite find the words.
"Are you going to torture me all night?" Suppressed emotion strained within his muscles as he sighed. "Ianthe? Do you want me to get the sheath?"
Every little move rocked him within her. Ianthe swallowed, her fingers curling over his shoulders. "Did you mean it?"
"Mean what?"
"That you would not regret it?"
Their eyes met again. Something seemed to shift in Lucien's expression.
Yes. With a soft shudder of his hips, he thrust within her again.
Slow. Steady. Taunting. His decision, at least, had been made.
Ianthe shifted beneath him, her inner muscles locking tight around him.
Her palms softened on his shoulders. Her heart was full to bursting; this decision had consequences.
But he had asked for her trust. He had asked for marriage. If there were to be consequences from this, then a little part of her welcomed them.
A baby. The thought both terrified her and exhilarated her. The phantom ache in her heart, the part of her that had never nursed her daughter, desperately wanted a second chance to prove herself.
"If it happened, I would welcome it," Lucien whispered, his breath warm against her ear.
"What will be, will be." This time, she would not be alone. This time, she was not so frightened. She could do this, if it happened. She felt closer to Lucien than she'd ever felt before.
Tucking her knee over his elbow, he shifted her position, so that his next thrust took her by surprise.
"Oh, my goodness!"
Lucien smiled his devil's smile. "Like that, do you?" He fucked her again, nice and slow, a hint of strain tightening his jaw.
His cock rasped over something deep within her. Ianthe shifted restlessly. "Yes. Yes!"
"More?"
"More!" she gasped. "Oh, Lucien! Lucien!"
The kiss took her by surprise, his mouth seeking hers in the warm dark, his tongue plunging within to tangle with her own.
Hips pistoning within her, he shifted the angle until his cock rasped over something deep within her.
Ianthe came apart with a gentle cry, her fingers clenching in his sweaty hair, her face screwed up in ecstasy.
Lucien came with a soft grunt, the muscles beside his spine trembling beneath her hand as he flexed within her. The spill of his seed wet her, and then with a gasp, he collapsed on top of her. Hot breath burned her throat, and the press of his weight left her breathless before he rolled to one hip.
One thing became clear in the quiet room as they caught their breaths together.
Their heartbeats were echoing as one.
The bond was intensifying.
Lucien caught her eye as he bowed to kiss her lips. So it does.
Ianthe paused, brushing her fingertips against his cheek. I heard that.
Lucien merely smiled. Rolling onto his side, his cock slid from her damp body as he tucked her against his hip.
His large hand splayed over her midriff, tracing the faint silvery lines that speared out like a corona from her navel.
"It makes sense now, why you could never allow yourself pleasure before. "
Ianthe curled into him. "It's not the same for a woman as it is for a man. It doesn't always happen for me."
"Especially when your daughter is missing."
"Especially then," she whispered. "That time on the piano... I felt so guilty. How could I possibly enjoy myself when she was out there alone? But I needed you so badly then, for I was so close to breaking."
They stared at each other, perfectly in tune with each other.
Ianthe swallowed. Intimacy still unnerved her a little. "When do you wish to get married?"
"Not yet. There are other considerations right now.
Morgana is a threat, and she dared put her hands on Louisa once to get at you.
I fear she will do it again." Hard lines bracketed Lucien's mouth; this was a man who would not be crossed.
"I intend to make certain Louisa is never harmed again, even if I have to destroy that bitch myself. "
"How do we find her?" Ianthe's voice was small in the dark. This was her fault, because she had not trusted Lucien to help her with Louisa.
"We begin here," Lucien replied, spreading her hair out across their pillow and stroking his hands through it. A casual gesture, but one not lost on her. It was intimate, this moment between them.
"Here?" He was distracting her. She couldn't quite fathom why they should start here.
"Someone left the letters on your bed," Lucien said. "Someone inside this house knows where Morgana is. We simply have to find out who."
A chill ran through her. She'd never thought to look for the traitor on the inside, because when she had no allies, she'd had no power. She had not dared, because one small misstep could have cost her Louisa. That was not the case now.
"But in the morning, Ianthe. In the morning. We both need sleep, or we're more likely to trip over Morgana's wards and hand her our lives on a platter. I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted. Some insatiable wench keeps demanding that I tup her."
"Wench," she objected, pinching him lightly.
Lucien laughed. And as she curled into the arc of his arms, she couldn't help thinking that, for the first time, his smile looked genuine.