Chapter 33 Chapter 33
Valentina
The sound of my back colliding with the wall echoed softly through the room followed by the thud of the door as it shut behind us. Lucien's mouth was already on mine, the kiss unrestrained, hungry, like neither of us had the patience to slow down anymore.
My hands found his tie first, fingers tugging it loose as I kissed him back just as fiercely. The silk slid free, forgotten, as I pressed closer. His hands were everywhere guiding me backward until the back of my knees hit the couch.
He followed me down, crowding my space, one hand braced beside me as he kissed me deeper. When he finally pulled back, we were both breathing hard, foreheads nearly touching, chests rising and falling in the same uneven rhythm.
We stared at each other. No words. Just heat.
I lifted my hands again, slower this time. My fingers went to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one while my eyes stayed on his face, watching the way his jaw tightened, the way his breath hitched with each movement.
The fabric slipped from his shoulders, falling away as my hands explored the warmth beneath, tracing muscle and skin like I needed to convince myself he was real.
His response was immediate. Lucien's hands closed around my waist, firm, possessive, pulling me up against him as his mouth found mine again. The kiss turned deeper, rougher, his grip anchoring me there as if he had no intention of letting me go.
His hands slid to my thighs and, in one smooth motion, he lifted me. I let out a soft laugh, instinctively wrapping my arms around his neck as he carried me forward.
As we moved, I tugged my top over my head, letting it fall somewhere behind us. The air felt cooler against my skin, but his body heat made up for it immediately. He didn't stop. Didn't slow. Just held me closer, like the act of carrying me was as natural as breathing.
The bedroom door came into view. He nudged it open with his foot and stepped inside, and something in my chest tightened with familiarity. This room. This house. It had become ours in a way nothing else was. A place where the world stayed outside, where there were no watchful eyes, no questions, no interruptions.
He set me down on the bed gently, though his gaze was anything but gentle. I watched him for a second, taking in the way he reached for his belt and dropped it aside.
His attention returned to me. He brushed the strap of my vest from my shoulder, slow enough to make my breath hitch, then the other, until the fabric slipped away. His hands followed easing me out of the last of what I was wearing.
I lay back against the sheets as he leaned over me, his presence filling the space. His mouth traced a path along my skin, savoring every second. My eyes closed, not because I wanted to escape the moment, but because I wanted to feel all of it.
His mouth traced slowly along my cleavage unhurried. My breath caught, a soft sound slipping out.
"Lucien..." I whispered. My nails digging into his hair.
He shifted, his hand finding mine, our fingers threading together before he guided my arm above my head, pinning it there with a quiet dominance that sent heat rushing through me. Then his mouth found my aroused nipples. I felt exposed in the best way open, aware of every place he touched, every place he didn't.
He sucked the life out of the two of them before his lips moved lower, lingering, making my body arch instinctively toward him. I couldn't help the way I reacted, the way my voice betrayed me again, breathless and unguarded.
"Don't stop," I murmured, my thoughts scattering. God, this was dangerous. This was everything I kept telling myself to avoid. And yet
here I was, wanting more, wanting him, every rational thought dissolving under the weight of sensation.
His presence anchored me, overwhelming and intoxicating. When his hands slid lower and he shifted between my legs, my pulse spiked, anticipation curling tight in my stomach. I knew what he was doing without needing to see it, without needing him to spell it out.
I closed my eyes, my head falling back against the pillows hitting my lips on the accord.
This was why I kept coming back. This was why walking away felt impossible.
Because in moments like this, there was no past. No future. Only him. Only us.
He made a low sound in between my legs, something almost like approval, and it sent a fresh wave of heat through me. His grip tightened just slightly, not to hurt, just enough to remind me that he was there, that this was real.
I felt him pause, just for a second, as if he was choosing restraint over instinct. The tension in that hesitation did things to me that his touch alone couldn’t. It made my chest ache. Made my breath come faster.
“Valentina,” he murmured, my name rough on his tongue.
My fingers flexed where he held my wrist, and my other hand slid into his hair again, holding him there as if I was afraid he might pull away. I wasn’t ready for that. I wasn’t ready for this to end not when my body was humming, not when my thoughts had gone quiet in the best way.
My mind should have been screaming warnings. About consequences. About lines already crossed too many times. But all I could think about was the way he made me feel how he stripped everything down to sensation and need and that dangerous sense of being wanted completely.
I let out a shaky breath, my voice barely there. “You do this to me every time,” I whispered, not accusing, just honest.
He lifted his head then, meeting my gaze, his eyes dark and intent. There was something unspoken between us, heavy and undeniable. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to mine, grounding me even as my body stayed restless beneath him.
And in that quiet, charged pause, I knew this wasn’t just desire pulling me under. It was him.