Page 192 of Crimson Promises
His eyes darkened, and he drew me in still separated but our bodies aligning perfectly should someone bridge the gap. "It's only a game if both players aren’t willing," he challenged.
In the heart of the library, time itself seemed suspended, as if the world had contracted, leaving just the two of us.
His gaze locked onto mine, fiery and intent, raking over me and igniting a blaze that rapidly consumed all rational thought. The distance between us, while only a few breaths apart, felt like an eternity as each second dripped with tension. I could see the hunger in his eyes, a hunger I unwillingly shared.
The heat of his body drew me in like a sunflower to the sun. When his fingers reached out, grazing my earlobe, every nerve ending lit up. His touch was electricity, and I was the conduit, energy racing through my veins, my skin sensitized to every brush and whisper of contact.
His breath fanned against my skin, a mix of frost and fire, and I could almost taste the power that emanated from him, as intoxicating as it was forbidden.
Drawing me closer, the hardness of him pressed insistently against the softness of my belly, sending shockwaves of desire throughout my body. I bit my lip, trying to suppress a moan. He took advantage, claiming my mouth with a fierceness that left me breathless. His taste was like a night laced with secrets, a flavor that spoke of a depth as fathomless as the sky he once called home.
His fingers traced the curve of my waist, slipping beneath the hem of my dress, and I gasped. His touch was both demanding and teasing, eliciting a flood of warmth and dampness between my thighs. Our mingled breaths became ragged.
Still, beneath the haze of desire, a nagging thought lingered.Giving in to this might satiate the physical need, but the emotional repercussions would be disastrous. I can’t.
The dance of lips and tongues grew more frantic.
I felt the hard wall of books behind me as Lucifer pressed me into them, his body a firm and unyielding contrast to the delicate pages. One of his hands anchored in my hair, tilting my head to give him better access to my neck. His mouth traced a searing path from my collarbone to the pulse that thrummed below my ear, every nip and kiss making me shiver with anticipation.
"Lucifer," I whispered as a plea and warning.
He responded with a growl, his grip on my hair tightening momentarily before he captured my mouth again. The kiss was different this time—possessive as if he was staking his claim. The feel of him, solid and wanting, pressed against the apex of my thighs made my head spin.
With deft fingers, he pushed aside the fabric of my dress, and I felt the cool air of the library against my overheated skin. He groaned in appreciation, and the sound of it, deep and throaty, made me even wetter.
The intensity between us was a palpable force, pushing and pulling, tempting and teasing. My fingers dug into his shoulders, nails scraping against the fabric of his shirt, urging him closer, demanding more. Our bodies moved in a hypnotic rhythm, two beings drawn together by a force neither could resist.
But even amidst the storm of passion, doubts and fears clawed at the edges of my mind.
Suddenly, the weight of our actions pressed upon me. With a gasp, I broke away, my chest heaving, my body still aching with unsated desire. Lucifer's eyes, now darkened with lust, searched mine, trying to decipher the sudden shift.
"Aurora," he murmured, voice roughened with passion.
But I took a step to the side, the logical part of my brain urging me to create distance. The gravity of our situation, the looming trials, and the challenges that awaited me became all too real again.
Our eyes locked and a myriad of emotions played between us: passion, confusion, regret, and a wild yearning.
"This changes nothing," I whispered fiercely, attempting to rebuild the walls he so effortlessly tore down.
Lucifer traced my swollen lips with his thumb, a hint of raw need in his gaze. "For now."
My heart raced, thudding loudly in my ears. I couldn’t stay here not for one second longer.
I could feel the warmth of his presence, even from a distance. Like a magnet to metal, a part of me wanted to turn around, to be enveloped by the heat, the passion, and the darkness he promised. But another part of me—the logical, self-preserving side—screamed to run, to flee from the complexities of what he made me feel.
The shadows played tricks on my eyes. I thought I saw Lucifer several times, only to realize it was just an illusion created by the dim, flickering candlelight. The towering shelves, each filled with ancient books of knowledge, seemed to loom over me, watching my desperate escape with silent judgment.
My breath came in ragged pants, the air in the library feeling thicker. I rounded a corner, hoping to find an exit, but was instead greeted by a warm, inviting enclave.
Towering bookshelves encased a grand fireplace, its flames dancing. Before it stood plush chairs, ones that promised hours lost in tales of love and war, of heroes and monsters. The setting would have been welcoming under any other circumstance. But not now.
Before I could react, his voice cut through the air, smooth as velvet and just as dangerous. "You cannot run from me, Aurora."
Whirling around, I found Lucifer leaning against one of the bookshelves, his blood eyes trained on me, dissecting every part of my being.
"You know as well as I do that escape is futile," he said, a hint of annoyance lining his voice.
Pushing down the ball of fear, I retorted, "I won't just stand by and let Ben rot in your cells. You might be comfortable with that level of cruelty, but I'm not you."
