Chapter 34: Silk

Lucien's chamber was silent save for the whisper of silk and breath.

Moonlight bled through the tall windows, casting silver across the velvet and stone of Lucien’s private quarters. Candles burned low on the mantle, their flames soft and golden, flickering with each shift of wind. Outside, the castle slept restlessly. But in here… time held its breath.

Lucien sat in the chair across from me, shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves pushed to his forearms, hair mussed from frustrated hands. He looked almost human in this light—worn, thoughtful, unbearably handsome. Like a cathedral carved of longing and violence.

"You’re too quiet,” I said softly.

He looked up at me slowly, as if pulling himself from depths I couldn’t see. “I’m thinking.”

“Dangerous.”

He smirked faintly, but it faded fast. “This plan… it’s good. It will work. But I keep seeing you bleeding, Arabella. I keep seeing her sinking her claws into your throat.”

“You know I’m not afraid.”

“I know,” he said, voice rough. “But I am.”

I crossed the room before he could stop me, kneeling beside his chair and resting a hand on his knee. “Lucien. I’ve survived more than anyone thought I would. I can do this.”

He looked down at me, his eyes dark and burning. “You shouldn’t have to.”

“But I want to.”

That broke something in him.

In the next breath, he was lifting me into his lap, one arm wrapped tight around my waist, the other threading into my hair. The kiss came hard and fast—hot, bruising, full of everything we hadn’t said out loud. His mouth claimed mine like he was afraid I’d disappear again. Like this was the last quiet night we’d ever have.

I melted into him, threading my fingers into his hair, gasping as he deepened it. His hands were everywhere—gentle and firm, reverent and needy. There was worship in the way he held me, in the way his mouth trailed along my throat like a vow.

We didn’t speak. There was no need.

Because in this moment, in this fragile hush before the storm, we were more than lovers.

We were fire and flint.

I ignited at his touch, the palm of his hands curling under me as I was lifted with a squeal.

When he placed me down again, my back touched the silk of his bed.

His lips trailed down my neck, inhaling deeply as his fangs grazed my warm skin. The knowing, the trust of his weapon against me flooded my chest with warmth as he dipped down to my collarbone.

My breath hitched, eyes fluttering shut as I surrendered to the pleasure coursing through me. His hands explored my body, gentle yet insistent, as he continued to kiss my neck, shoulders, and breasts.

He hauled up my skirts, exposing my lace-clad intimacy. His fingers brushed against my moist undergarment, causing a shiver to race down my spine. A low growl escaped his lips, I could hear his desire in every breath.

His fingers traced the folds of my pussy, slick with her desire, before he slid a finger inside of me.

My hips arched in response, the pleasure washing over me as his fingers curled up, rubbing my g-spot until my thighs squeezed around him.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice tender and caring.

I opened my eyes to meet his, dark and needy. “I want you to fuck me like your slut and kiss me like your wife.”

Lucien's eyes flared, his vampiric hunger potent in the air. Without a second of thought, he yanked off his shirt, bearing his sleek muscles.

My gaze lowered as he pulled out his cock, huge and throbbing as it ached for me.

I whimpered, opening my legs wider as he rubbed the head of his cock through my wetness.

“You’re soaked, Bella,” he smirked.

“Shut up and fuck me,” I begged.

“Hm?”

“Fuck me.”

“Hm?”

I grabbed him, slamming his lips into mine, and with it, his cock filled me, stretching me out ruthlessly.

I bit down on his lower lip hard, my body arched into his as he thrust in and out of me brutally.

Lucien groaned, his eyes raking over my body, every thrust making my tits spill over my corset. The sound of flesh smacking against flesh grew louder, a symphony of passion, as his thrusts grew more frantic.

My hips met his, driving him on as I clung to him, my heart racing.

With a growl, he lifted me, effortlessly flipping me onto my stomach as I gasped in surprise.

He placed me at the edge of the bed, my legs dangling over, and continued to thrust, the change of angle filling me deeper and deeper.

Lucien leaned over me, nipping at my earlobe before whispering, "Look at you, mia bella, you’re so fucking sexy.”

I began to writhe as the sensation overwhelmed my body. “I’m gonna come,” I breathed, gripping onto the sheets.

Lucien pulled my arms behind my back, pinning them in one hand as he leaned back to fuck me ferociously.

My vision went black as the climax crashed over me, feeling, smelling and hearing only the king above me.

He kept fucking me, pounding into me until I felt his cum fill me with a roar.

I felt his delicate hands undo my corset before he undressed me, laying me carefully in his bed once more.

My body trembled, every nerve alight and raw from the intensity of us, the fierce, relentless rhythm slowing as he finally withdrew. The room was thick with our mingled breath and the faint scent of musk and silk.

Lucien’s hands, surprisingly gentle now, traced along my curves as he gathered me close, cradling me against his chest like I was fragile glass. His pulse thudded steady beneath my ear, a deep, steady drum that tethered me to this moment — to him.

“I’m not done with you,” he murmured, voice husky and low, the barest hint of a smile curving his lips.

I shivered, half from exhaustion, half from the warmth of being held by the man who was both my captor and my savior. His fingers brushed a stray lock of hair from my face, his thumb stroking my cheek tenderly.

“Goodnight, Arabella,” he whispered.

I closed my eyes, heat still blooming in my veins, and whispered back, “Goodnight, my king.”

The silk sheets cooled against my skin, but his arms around me kept the night warm until I drifted off to sleep.