Page 9 of Sins of Winter
“What I feel for that piece of shit is far, far beyond hatred. It's more of an all-consuming loathing,” he continued, ignoring my question. “I’ve spent a lot of time planning how to handle him.”
“Handle him?”
He moved towards me, stopping when his solid chest was nearly flush with mine. “If I told you that, it would ruin the surprise.”
The room seemed to tilt as his words washed over me. My alcohol-fogged brain struggled to catch up, to piece together the information he was revealing.
The buzz from the drinks made it difficult to latch onto the significance of his words. I took a deep breath, attempting to clear my head enough to keep pace with the rapid turns our conversation was taking, searching his face for any hint of insincerity.
“What are you trying to tell me right now?”
He grinned. “That you have nothing to worry about. Sure, there were a few girls, but none of them compared to you.” He paused and reached down, removing the headpiece of my costume with a gentleness that was at odds with his words, casually tossing it onto the floor. “And they aren’t alive to try.”
What?
Was he…was he joking?
He had to be.
While there was an enraged and delusional part of me that felt jealousy at the thought of anyone other than me putting their hands on this gorgeous man, it wasn’t to the extent of wishing them harm, let alone death.
The gravity of his statement weighed heavily in the atmosphere. My inebriated brain struggled to fully comprehend it. Hadn’t I asked him about something else before then?
Suddenly, he straightened and swiftly pulled his shirt over his head.
Holy shit. It was better than I could have imagined. The dim lighting of the room cast shadows across his well-defined abs, each muscle contracting as he moved. A black-inked tapestry adorned his torso, symbols I couldn't immediately recognize. My eyes slightly widened, tracing the pristine art, the bold lines, and the subtle shades, feeling a rush of heat to my face. Another gush of arousal between my legs.
Not only were the designs captivating, but the canvas on which they were drawn was magnetizing.
His body was fucking everything. Lucian watched me closely, a cocky smirk forming on his lips.
“You didn’t answer me before, but judging by that look on your face, you like what you see.”
“I do,” I admitted, locking eyes with him, “Now, why don't you come closer?” My voice came out stronger than I felt at that moment, brazen with a mix of alcohol and raw attraction.
He held my stare, the challenge evident. Without a word, his warmth enveloped me. He reached down and tangled his fingers in my silver tresses, tugging with enough force a whimper fell from my mouth and my nipples hardened. With a fistful of my hair, he walked me backward towards the bed.
The world tilted for a moment before the softness of the mattress cushioned my back. His towering form loomed over me, and then he was there, the weight of him pressing me down in the most intoxicating way, eliciting a low-pitched moan. It wasn't oppressive but grounding, a heavy reminder of his presence.
My heartbeat quickened, a steady drum in my ears, drowning out any residual doubts or hesitations. I clenched my thighs together again, almost desperate for him to shove them apart and fuck me—hard.
I studied every inch of his immaculate face. His thick eyelashes, long like the feathered wings of a raven, added a softness to the hardness of his stare. Being trapped in Lucian's gaze was both unnerving and exhilarating.
“You’re so fucking beautiful." He ran the pad of his thumb across my lower lip.
“You beneath me like this has been a long-awaited fantasy.”
Caught in a haze of emotions, sensations, and memories, I reached up and aggressively pulled him down to me, our mouths colliding once more. He released his grip on my hair and grabbed hold of my thighs. A moan escaped me as he wrenched them apart, his fingertips digging into my skin. My sailor skirt flipped up, exposing my G-string.
His fingertips gently danced across my heated flesh, traveling the expanse of my inner thigh, reaching my center where arousal had gathered.
“Luce, we should—”
“Are you going to tell me to stop?” He pulled the thin fabric to the side and moved his hand lower. “That you don’t want this?”
He circled my clit with the pad of his thumb and slowly teased my slit, sliding a digit through my arousal. “This is for me, isn’t it?” He eased a finger inside me, and then another.
I clamped my lips together to suppress a moan. “You don’t play fair,” I rasped as he delved deeper.