The air in the presidential suite was electric. Charged with the weight of their confessions. Lucien's hand lingered on Ava's cheek. His thumb traced the curve of her jaw. His words echoed in the silence. "I think about that kiss every day, and I'm not sure I can stop." Her heart pounded. A wild rhythm that drowned out reason. She was still in his lap. Her hands gripped his shoulders. The heat of his body seared through the thin fabric of her camisole. The darkness cloaked them. It stripped away the barriers they'd clung to for weeks. Leaving only raw, unfiltered need.
This time, when he kissed her, it wasn't tentative. It wasn't a question. It was a claim. Desperate and consuming. A fire that had been smoldering too long. His lips crashed against hers. Hard and hungry. His hands slid from her waist to her hips. Pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. Ava gasped into his mouth. Her fingers tangled in his hair. Tugging just enough to elicit a low growl from his throat. The sound sent a shiver down her spine. Igniting something primal within her.
"Lucien," she breathed. Her voice a mix of plea and surrender. She didn't know what she was asking for. More, less, everything. But he seemed to understand. His hands tightened on her hips. In one fluid motion, he stood. Lifting her with him as if she weighed nothing. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. Her arms around his neck. He carried her toward the bed. Their lips never breaking contact.
The world tilted. Narrowed to the heat of his mouth. The strength of his arms. The way his body pressed against hers. He laid her down on the massive bed. The silk sheets cool against her heated skin. For a moment, he paused. Hovering over her. His dark eyes searched hers in the faint moonlight. There was no arrogance in his gaze now. No guarded control. Only vulnerability. Raw and unguarded. Mirroring her own.
"Tell me to stop," he said. His voice rough. Almost pleading. "Tell me, Ava, and I will."
Her chest ached. Her breath ragged. She could stop this. She could rebuild the walls. Retreat to safety. But the truth was, she didn't want to. She'd been running from this. From him. For too long. The weight of it was crushing her. She reached up. Her fingers brushed against his jaw. Feeling the tension there. The restraint he was barely holding onto.
"Don't stop," she whispered. The words a confession. A release.
That was all he needed. His lips found hers again. Fiercer now. A kiss that devoured her. His hands roamed her body. Sliding under her camisole. His calloused fingers rough against her skin. She arched into his touch. A soft moan escaped her lips as he tugged the fabric over her head. Tossing it aside. The cool air hit her skin. But his warmth followed. His mouth trailed kisses down her neck. Her collarbone. Leaving a trail of fire in its wake.
Her hands fumbled with his shirt. Pushing it off his shoulders. Her fingers traced the hard lines of his chest. The scars she hadn't known he carried. Every touch felt like a revelation. A map of a man she thought she'd understood but was only now truly seeing. He groaned as her nails scraped lightly down his back. The sound raw and unguarded. It sent a thrill through her. Knowing she could unravel him as much as he was unraveling her.
The kiss deepened. Grew rougher. A clash of teeth and tongues. All restraint crumbling. His hands found the waistband of her shorts. He paused. His eyes locked with hers. Seeking permission. She nodded. Her breath hitching. He slid them down her legs. His touch deliberate. Reverent. Yet laced with urgency. Her own hands moved to his belt. Fumbling with the buckle. Her fingers trembling with a mix of nerves and need. He helped her. His movements quick but not rushed. As if savoring every second.
When they were finally bare. Skin against skin. The world outside ceased to exist. There was only Lucien. His weight pressing her into the mattress. His hands framing her face as he kissed her. Like she was the only thing keeping him grounded. She felt the same. Her body alive under his touch. Every nerve singing with a need she hadn't known she could feel.
He moved with purpose. His lips and hands mapping her body. Finding every sensitive spot until she was trembling beneath him. Her gasps filled the air. Mingling with his ragged breaths. The tension that had built over weeks—months—finally snapping. There was no gentleness now. Only passion. Intense and a little rough. As if they were both trying to pour everything they'd held back into this moment. His hands gripped her hips. Guiding her. She met him with equal fervor. Her nails digging into his shoulders. Her body arching to meet his.
It was overwhelming. Devastating. A collision of desire and emotion that left them both breathless. Every touch, every movement, felt like a confession. A breaking down of walls they'd both built too high. Ava clung to him. Her heart pounding. Her mind a haze of sensation and something deeper. Something she wasn't ready to name. Lucien's breath was hot against her ear. His voice a low growl as he murmured her name. The sound anchoring her even as it pushed her closer to the edge.
When they reached the peak, it was like a dam breaking. A wave of intensity that left her gasping. Her body trembling in his arms. He held her through it. His own release following. His grip tightening as if he couldn't bear to let her go. For a moment, they were still. Their breaths mingling. Their bodies entwined. The world silent except for the pounding of their hearts.
Afterward, he didn't pull away. Instead, he rolled them both. Pulling her against his chest. His arms wrapped around her with a desperation that mirrored the intensity of what they'd just shared. His hold was tight. Almost possessive. As if he feared she'd slip away if he let go. Ava's cheek rested against his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat grounding her even as her mind spiraled.
She couldn't sleep. The weight of what they'd done pressed against her. Heavy and inescapable. It wasn't just the physical act. Though that had been earth-shattering. It was the emotional weight of it. She'd crossed a line she'd sworn she never would. Let him in in a way she hadn't let anyone. The vulnerability terrified her. What did this mean? For her? For him? For them? The questions swirled. Relentless. Keeping her awake as the moonlight shifted across the room.
Lucien's breathing was steady now. But his arms remained around her. His fingers occasionally tightening. As if to reassure himself she was still there. She wondered if he was awake. If he was grappling with the same questions. She didn't dare ask. The silence felt safer. A fragile shield against the truths they weren't ready to face.
Her mind drifted to the weeks leading up to this moment. The tension. The arguments. The stolen glances. The kiss that had haunted them both. She'd fought so hard to keep him at a distance. To protect herself from the pull he had on her. But tonight, in the dark, with the city of Paris whispering beyond the windows, she'd let go. And now, she didn't know how to find her way back.
The bed, once a symbol of their forced proximity, now felt like a battlefield. Strewn with the wreckage of their defenses. She didn't regret it. Not exactly. But the weight of it was crushing. She'd given him a piece of herself. And she didn't know if she could take it back. Or if she even wanted to.
As the hours ticked by, Ava lay awake. Her body pressed against his. Her thoughts a tangled mess. She traced the lines of his arm. The warmth of his skin grounding her even as her heart raced. She didn't know what tomorrow would bring. What they'd say or do when the sun rose and the world intruded again. For now, there was only this. The weight of his arms. The memory of his touch. And the question of what she'd just done.
He stirred slightly. His lips brushed against her forehead. A soft, unconscious gesture that made her heart ache. "Stay," he murmured. His voice thick with sleep. Ava's breath caught. Wondering if he meant for tonight or something more.