Chapter 49

The temptation was like venom that had already filled his bloodstream with lust.

Lucien slowly leaned into her, captivated by her gaze, and imprisoned by the tension between them. His hunger stirred, his throat working as he swallowed.

A final flicker of morality sparked faintly in his mind, telling him how wrong this was. It was wrong for him to want her, to need her this way.

The thought was easily overruled, and he leaned even closer. He could feel her pulse beneath his fingers, racing under her skin.

Had his suspicions been right? Kendall wanted him?

The world seemed to still as he hovered close. So close, the space between them nearly burned with the heat they both suppressed.

His desire whispered. Nobody will know.

It could be their secret, and nobody would ever know. Because he wanted her badly, and he couldn’t stop. Even though it was wrong.

His lips grazed hers, retreating. A gasp escaped her, and eagerly, she leaned in for more.

“Please…” The whisper dripped with arousal.

That eagerness and obvious desperation sent fire into his veins, and his brittle restraint shattered.

His fingers delved into her hair, jerking her forward, and he captured her mouth in a ravaging kiss.

She gasped sharply, tensing as his lips moved against hers.

Lucien felt her stiffen, and then, slowly, the tension melted out of her body until she melted against him. The feeling of her body going lax, the sound of the moan that accompanied it, everything piled onto his senses and stimulated him until he was kissing her out of his control.

Her hand slid up his bare chest, and she stroked his tongue with hers. Lucien wasn’t ready for the electric pleasure it caused. He enfolded her against him, tilting her head so he could delve deeper. His tongue slid against hers, slow and hot, dragging a moan from her throat.

The way he kissed her left her shaking. He tasted her like he needed to remember this, needed to etch it into his brain for eternity.

His hand travelled down her neck and, on her chest, found her breasts, soft underneath the silk.

She wasn’t wearing a bra. A groan rumbled through his throat, his eyes long since closed in ecstasy. He didn’t even think of his actions, deepening the kiss as his fingers palmed her breast.

It filled his hand, giving him plenty to knead. Her heavy breathing turned into soft, breathless moans, fuelling his desire until he found her nipple with his fingers. Gently pinching, flicking and tugging, he stimulated her until she was squirming against him, her groans muffled against his mouth.

His fingers tightened around her in a harsher pinch, and she let out a tiny yelp.

Lucien jerked away from her like she’d burned him.

For a moment, neither of them moved, staring at each other in mutual shock.

She clutched the hem of her shirt, chest rising and falling too fast. Her lips were swollen, and her eyes were wide with a cocktail of shock and blatant arousal.

His eyes mirrored the look, his breath was ragged, and his hands were suspended midair like he couldn’t decide whether to chop them off for their sins or reach for her again.

“Kendall…” he rasped. “Oh, my goodness.”

He turned away in defeat and disgust, burying his face in his hands. “Oh… my fucking word…”

She bit her bottom lip guiltily, watching him.

Pushing off the covers, he swung his legs off the side of the bed, hanging his head between his shoulders in self-loathing.

Lucien shut his eyes, cursing himself over and over again. He could still feel her lips on his and had the audacity to still feel pleasure coursing through his body. God, he was sick.

Hesitantly, Kendall reached out to touch him but stopped herself halfway. Her fingers returned to fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

“I’m sorry…” she whispered guiltily, her heart racing with horror. She was doomed. She’d ruined everything. Why hadn’t she just left his room? Why had she stayed in his bed?

Slowly, Lucien turned, but he didn’t look at her. “Why are you sorry? This…” He sighed, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry, Kendall, that shouldn’t have happened. I didn’t mean to… do that to you.”

She blinked, frowning. “But… I wanted it.”

Lucien paused. Slowly, he looked at her. “What?”

She couldn’t meet his gaze. “I wanted you to… kiss me—”

“Okay, stop.”

“…and touch me like that—”

“Stop it.”

She tensed.

“Don’t say such things,” Lucien scolded tensely. “You have no idea what you’re saying.”

Kendall looked at him, mildly offended. “I do.”

“Kendall—”

“It felt good when you touched me. And when you kissed me, I felt like—”

“Stop it, please, I can’t…” He was practically begging her, at the very edge of his sanity.

They were far too alone and far too turned on for him to risk hearing her say any more dirty words with those innocent lips of hers.

“This was a terrible mistake,” he said. “I’m sorry, and it’ll never happen again.”

She lowered her gaze, pouting. “But—”

“Go back to your room,” he said in a voice rough, low and cold in a way that felt like punishment. “Now.”

Her throat tightened with tears, and she burned to say something to fix things, but nothing came up. Without a word, she got out of his bed and put her slippers on.

He didn’t look at her even once.

Sighing, she sadly walked toward the balcony.

When the glass door slid shut behind her, Lucien audibly groaned in fury. What on earth had just happened? What had possessed him?!

He shoved himself to his feet and restlessly paced the room. It was sorcery, it had to be. Why else would he lose his mind that way? And, Kendall. How could she say she’d wanted it?

Her behaviour was so out of character, it wasn’t the Kendall he knew. Why would she want him? He was Sabrina’s father!

Sighing, Lucien dropped onto a sofa and buried his face in his hands once more.

This was outrageous. He was disgusted with himself. Even animals had morals.

And the fact that he’d put a stop to it didn’t make Lucien feel any better because he still couldn’t tell how far he would’ve gone had she not startled him out of it. He’d wanted to do so much more to her.

And, worse… he still wanted to do more. Self-loathing twisted his gut. Even though he’d sent her away, his body was still burning with arousal, buzzing with desire.

He was still thinking about her body. Her lips against his.

His every thought, while squeezing her breast, had been about satisfying his urge to snap open the buttons of her shirt and spill her tits into his hands. He’d wanted her spread open in his bed, writhing with pleasure while he…

With a groan, he shoved his fingers into his hair and tightly gripped the black strands until his scalp screamed.

He needed cleansing, this had to be a curse.

Standing up, he kicked an ottoman out of his way and marched toward the bathroom.

A cold shower. If a cold shower didn’t kill these demonic thoughts, nothing would.