Chapter 5 Bound In Hunger

"You're starving, aren't you?..."

The words hung between them, heavy as storm clouds over a battlefield.

Selene's lips parted to reply, but no sound came. Her throat burned too fiercely. Her tongue felt thick, her breath ragged. Lucian's voice had sunk into her bones, seeping through like wine into linen.

Starving. Yes.

But not only for blood.

Lucian stood close enough that the hem of his coat brushed her skirts. She could feel the heat of his body, a strange contrast to the chill that had settled deep in her chest these past days. Her fingers itched to reach out, to grasp, to cling to something tangible. Something real.

His eyes-silver-blue, piercing-studied her with solemn intensity.

"What do you want from me?" she whispered.

A shadow flickered across his expression. "Everything you've never been allowed to feel."

Selene trembled. "You speak in riddles."

"No," Lucian murmured, lifting a hand to brush a stray strand of hair from her cheek. His fingers lingered. "I speak in truths your soul already knows."

His touch burned her, not with fire but with sensation-new, dangerous, awakening. Her knees weakened. She reached blindly behind her, steadying herself against the bookshelf.

Lucian stepped forward again.

"Let me show you," he said.

Her breath caught.

He raised her hand to his mouth, slow and deliberate. She should've pulled away. Should have protested. But she didn't. She couldn't.

His lips grazed her knuckles-warm, soft, reverent. Then, without breaking eye contact, he drew one finger into his mouth.

Her gasp echoed through the library.

Heat exploded low in her belly, her skin prickling with something wicked and alive. She stared at him, wide-eyed, as he let her finger slip free.

His voice was velvet-wrapped steel. "This is only the beginning."

Selene shuddered. "I-I don't understand what's happening to me."

"You're waking."

"To what?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he drew her toward him, his hands sliding around her waist. She tensed, but only for a heartbeat.

His lips brushed her temple, then her cheek. "Tell me to stop," he murmured. "And I will."

She said nothing.

Because she didn't want him to stop.

Her silence was his invitation.

In one fluid motion, he pressed her against the shelves. His mouth found hers, and she broke-utterly and completely.

The kiss was not gentle. It was consuming.

Lucian kissed like a man who'd lived lifetimes and still hungered. His mouth moved over hers with devastating precision, coaxing, claiming. His hands gripped her hips, thumbs circling through the thin fabric of her gown. She moaned softly, and he swallowed the sound.

Selene had never been kissed before. Not truly. Not like this.

She felt light-headed, drunk on something she couldn't name. Her body moved instinctively, molding to his, heart thudding hard against her ribs.

Lucian pulled back only long enough to whisper, "You feel it too, don't you? This pull between us."

"Yes," she gasped. "God help me, I do."

His mouth found the line of her throat, trailing kisses down to the soft hollow above her collarbone. Each press of his lips sent sparks dancing down her spine.

She clutched at his coat, needing him closer. Needing something.

His hands explored her, reverent yet possessive. The curve of her waist. The line of her back. The quickening beat of her heart under his palm.

Selene's head tipped back as his mouth trailed lower, tugging the neckline of her gown aside. When his lips brushed the swell of her breast, she arched into him, gasping his name.

Lucian's breath was ragged now, too.

Don't lose control, he warned himself. Not yet. Not here.

But it was near-impossible. Her scent wrapped around him, sweet and warm and thrumming with something ancient. Her heart, her blood, her very essence called to him.

He was not a man prone to weakness. But she-Selene Duvall-undid him with every breath.

He lifted her effortlessly, settling her atop the oak table behind them. Books scattered to the floor with a muted thud.

Her thighs parted instinctively, welcoming the press of his hips. Her skirts rode up as his hands slid beneath, his touch reverent and searching. She gasped when his fingers found the bare skin above her stocking.

"I shouldn't-" she breathed.

"But you want to," he murmured against her skin. "And so do I."

His fingers slipped higher.

She clutched at his shoulders, desperate, overwhelmed, drowning in sensation. Her body no longer felt like her own. It had been seized by want, by need, by hunger.

"Lucian-"

He silenced her with another kiss, deeper this time, devouring. Her thighs clenched around his hips. His fingers found her center, and she moaned into his mouth, her body shuddering with the force of it.

And still, he held back.

He wanted more. Needed more.

But it was not yet time. Not entirely.

He pulled back slowly, his breath shaking.

Selene blinked up at him, lips swollen, cheeks flushed. "Why did you stop?"

Lucian cupped her face, thumb brushing her lower lip. "Because if I take you now, I won't stop. And you deserve to understand what this is before I do."

Her heart was a drumbeat against his hand.

"Then tell me," she whispered. "What is this?"

His gaze darkened.

But before he could speak, a sound echoed through the corridor beyond the door. A voice.

"Andrea?" she said aloud, blinking as if waking from a spell.

Lucian stiffened.

Footsteps.

Andrea's voice, soft and tentative. "Selene?"

Lucian's jaw clenched. He turned away, adjusting the collar of his coat with precise, almost violent grace.

Selene slid off the table, smoothing her skirts, pulse racing. Her heart warred with confusion, desire, and guilt.

Lucian's voice was low. "You'll have to choose soon, Selene."

She turned to him. "Choose what?"

His eyes gleamed like mercury in the dim candlelight.

"Whether to embrace what's inside you... or let it devour you whole."

And with that, he was gone.