Page 10 of Exorcise Me
His mouth was hot, demanding, tasting faintly of the wine we’d been drinking. One of his hands tangled in my wet hair, the other splayed across my lower back, pulling me against him. The fabric of his now-drenched shirt rubbed against my naked skin, the contrast of textures making me gasp.
Lucien took advantage of my parted lips, deepening the kiss with a skill that made my knees weak. His tongue strokedagainst mine, exploring, claiming. I clutched at his shoulders, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer.
This is wrong,the voice of my training whispered.
Then why does it feel so right?countered something deeper, more primal.
Lucien broke the kiss first, pulling back just enough to look into my eyes. Water streamed down his face, plastering his dark hair to his forehead. His shirt clung to his body like a second skin, revealing the sculpted perfection beneath.
“We should stop,” he said, though his hands remained on my body, one at my waist, the other still tangled in my hair.
“Should we?” I challenged, surprising myself with my boldness.
His eyes darkened further. “Noah, you don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“I’m not asking.” I leaned forward, pressing my forehead against his. “I’m choosing.”
Something like wonder flashed across his face. Then he was kissing me again, harder this time, more demanding. His hands roamed my naked body while I fumbled with the buttons of his soaked shirt. Water continued to pour over both of us, turning everything slick and urgent.
I finally managed to push his shirt off his shoulders, revealing skin that gleamed golden in the bathroom’s soft light. He was perfect—of course he was—all lean muscle and smooth skin that seemed to glow from within.
“You’re staring,” he murmured against my lips.
“You’re worth staring at,” I replied honestly.
His smile was surprisingly tender. “So are you.”
His hands traced patterns on my skin, leaving trails of heat in their wake. When his fingers brushed across my nipple, I gasped, arching into the touch. Lucien’s smile turned wicked.
“Sensitive,” he observed, repeating the motion and watching me shiver. “I wonder where else you’re sensitive…”
His mouth replaced his fingers, hot and wet against my chest. I clutched at his shoulders, my head falling back against the shower wall as he explored my body with lips and tongue and gentle teeth. Each touch sent sparks racing through me, building a fire that threatened to consume us both.
The shower continued to pound down on us, steam filling the small bathroom until it felt like we were in our own private world, cut off from reality and consequences.
Lucien’s hands slid lower, tracing the lines of my hipbones, thumbs pressing into the sensitive hollows. He dropped to his knees in one fluid motion, looking up at me with those impossible eyes, water streaming down his face.
“I’ve thought about this,” he confessed, his voice rough with desire. “Every night, lying on your couch, knowing you were just behind that door…”
The image of him wanting me, thinking about me, sent a fresh wave of heat through my body. I reached down, tracing his cheekbone with trembling fingers.
“Yes,” I whispered, answering the question he hadn’t asked.
His smile was sin incarnate. Then his mouth was on me, hot and perfect, and all coherent thought fled my mind. My fingers tangled in his wet hair, holding on as he took me apart with devastating skill.
Oh God, oh God, oh God,ran through my mind in a litany that was half prayer, half blasphemy.
As if hearing my thoughts, Lucien pulled back just enough to murmur, “He’s not the one on His knees for you right now.”
Then he took me deeper, and I was lost.
Time blurred. There was only sensation—the hot water streaming down my skin, the slick heat of his mouth, the gentle pressure of his hands holding my hips against the shower wall.I felt myself spiraling higher, closer to some precipice I’d never approached before.
“Lucien,” I gasped, a warning and a plea.
He looked up, our eyes locking as he continued his relentless attention. The sight of him like that—on his knees, water making his lashes spiky and dark, his eyes glowing with inhuman desire—pushed me over the edge. I came with his name on my lips, a prayer to a very different kind of deity.
He stayed with me through it, easing me down from the height with gentle touches. When my legs threatened to give out, he rose smoothly, supporting my weight against his still-partially clothed body.
