Eliza took his face in both hands and kissed him with an intensity that seemed capable of tearing the air apart. It wasn't a timid or restrained kiss: it was a claim, a sentence, a truth that both had desired for a long time. Their lips collided with a burning urgency that demanded, that said you are mine without needing a single word.
Lucian hit the column behind her with an open hand, as if he needed to anchor his body to something to avoid losing himself completely in that contact. The stone cracked under his strength, as if recognizing who touched it and also surrendering to him. His breathing became a deep pant, a sound that vibrated in his chest and in the narrow space between them.
"Don't provoke me like this..." he murmured against Eliza's lips, while his fingers moved down her thighs with an almost cruel slowness. "Not when I have you so close... not when I want you so much."
