Page 52 of Necromance
Because for the first time in centuries, I wasn’t certain I could stop myself from wanting more.
Mia’s fingers twitched against my chest, her touch warm even through the fabric of my shirt. Her breathing had evened out, and for a moment, I thought she might have slipped back into unconsciousness. But then, in the softest voice, she murmured, “Lucien.”
Something in my chest tightened.
“Hmm?”
She sighed, a slow, dreamy sound, and turned her face slightly against me. “I know you’re not a rake.”
That made me pause. I tiltedmy head, glancing down at her. “Is that so?”
“Mmhm.” She nestled in closer, utterly unguarded. “Because you haven’t even kissed me once.”
My entire body went still.
I exhaled a quiet laugh, though it did little to steady me. “Is that your only requirement?”
She made a vague gesture with her hand, her fingers lazily brushing against my collarbone before they fell limp again. “If you were a rake, you would have kissed me by now. Probably more than once.”
I smirked despite myself. “Do you want me to kiss you, Mia?”
A flicker of something passed over her face… surprise, maybe, or uncertainty. For a moment, she hesitated, her fingers curling weakly against my chest. Then, so softly I almost didn’t hear it, she whispered, “Yes.”
I swallowed hard, staring down at her, at the way her lips curved into the faintest, drowsy smile. She didn’t know what she was saying. She was too far gone, too lost in the lingering haze of her visions.
And yet, her admission sank its claws into me, lodging deep in places I had long since buried.
“Do you want to kiss me, Lucien?” she whispered, her voice soft and husky.
I brushed her hair away from her forehead, running the silky strand through my fingers.
“Always,” I answered honestly, assured she wouldn’t remember any of this tomorrow.
She smiled at that. “Do you think I’m pretty?” Her words slurred.
I laughed softly, studying her delicate features. Soft, full lips, perk nose sprinkled with the faintest freckles, and long dark lashes that fanned across pale, flushed skin.
She wasn’t pretty.
She was the sunlight after a rainstorm, morning mist during sunrise, the first bloom of spring flowers in a meadow…
Pretty could never compare to her.
“Very much,” I said instead, softly caressing her cheek.
Her brow furrowed slightly and she frowned as she mindlessly toyed with a button on my shirt..
“Then why haven’t you kissed me?” She asked seriously.
Her plea twisted in my chest. I traced my thumb lightly along the curve of her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath my touch. Her breath hitched, just barely, her lips parting as if she meant to say something more, but thought better of it.
“Because you’ve never asked me to.”
Her lashes fell, a warm flush creeping into her cheeks. She reached up, toying nervously with my button again.
“What if I asked you now?” She musedquietly, her voice nearly a breath.
I grinned at her drunken bravery, catching her roaming hand in mine. “Mia,” I said carefully. “You’re intoxicated and you don’t know what you’re asking for.”
