Cruel Saints - Page 27

My shock turns to confusion turns to feeling overwhelmed in a matter of a second.

A roar ripples from Lucian, and I somehow manage to lift my hands to his solid chest. I want to push against him, to sever the kiss, but my hands won’t listen.

Lucian’s left hand finds my cheek, and then he forces my head to tilt to where he wants me as he deepens the kiss. It becomes hungry as he seems to lose control, and soon I’m struggling to breathe past the assault on my mouth.

A whimper escapes me, and I’m not sure why I made the sound.

I don’t want this.

Yet, I do nothing to fight him off.

It’s just another thing taken from me.

But still, I can’t deny the fluttering in my abdomen and the quickening of my heartbeat. And it’s not because I fear him. It’s because it’s the best kiss I’ve ever had.

Lucian’s lips knead mine, his tongue stroking hard, his teeth tugging, demanding, claiming.

God, it’s… forceful… intoxicating… earthshattering.

Where I could never mentally escape from Dante’s assaults, I find my mind easily clouding over. It feels as if I’m being absorbed by Lucian. His power engulfs me. His manliness drugs me. His mouth demands that I focus only on how he’s making me feel.

Where I only felt disgusted with Dante, it’s the total opposite with Lucian. Not even Alfonso made me feel so… hypnotized.

Every single fiber of my being is focused on Lucian. My blood rushes through my veins, and before I know it, I’m kissing him back. I give in, not even trying to put up a fight.

I taste the mint on his tongue. I feel his warm breaths on my skin. His arms wrap around me so tightly it feels like he’ll never let go.

God. God. God.

What is this?

My body melts against his, and my hands move up to his neck, my fingers trying to memorize the feel of his skin. My breasts push against his firm chest as my tongue savors his.

Another whimper escapes me, but it sounds different to my ears. There’s no panic in it. Only need.

As quickly as Lucian invaded my mouth, he lets go of me, and within another second, I’m filled with the loss of his kiss and body as he puts a safe distance between us.

My eyes flutter open, and my hands drop limply to my sides.

I’m met with smoldering eyes, his chest rising and falling from the deep breaths he’s sucking in. He lifts a hand to his jaw, and then his thumb swipes over his bottom lip.

And then reality sets back in, and my heart plummets to the ground from where it was soaring the heavens.

I thought I’ve felt fear before. I was wrong. I begin to tremble uncontrollably, and the warmth flees my body, filling me with ice.

Not because Lucian can physically hurt me, but because he can do the one thing Dante never could – Lucian can kill my soul. He can rob me of my dreams. He can make me a prisoner, and I fear I won’t want to escape him.

LUCIAN

Mother of God.

I’ve been slowly losing my mind the past three days. My thoughts were consumed with Elena. My eyes constantly searched for her. But Elena hid from me, never leaving her suite.

Knowing I was running out of time, I knew there was only one way for me to be sure. So I yanked her out of her room, and like a fucking caveman, I carried her to the garden she loves so much.

And then I fucking kissed her.

I thought it would help me be done with her. I thought it would be the same as kissing any other inexperienced girl – unexciting and tasteless – and I’d finally get over my obsession with her.

But I was wrong. Christ was I wrong.

My hopes were smothered, and my concerns were met face to face with the most powerful emotions I’ve ever felt. Unrelenting need. Potent desire. Above all, my possessiveness increased tenfold.

I want Elena. More than anything I’ve ever wanted. She tasted like heaven. She felt perfect in my arms. When she whimpered, it made me instantly hard. It took more self-control than I thought I possessed to break the kiss because I was a second away from fucking her right here next to the fountain.

I can still taste her sweetness on my tongue, and it makes me lick my lips, searching for any hint of her left on them.

I drink in the sight of her rosy cheeks, the excitement from the kiss we shared staining her skin. Her breasts swell under her v-neck t-shirt with every breath she takes.

She looks like the goddess of sex until the blood drains from her face. Panic tightens her features, and then her eyes fill with fear. Her trembling hands catch my eye, and her gasps begin to come faster until I worry whether she’s about to hyperventilate.

Tags: Michelle Heard Romance
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