[After Lucien and Morgana return from intimidating a French smuggler into handing over a case of dangerous and illegal venom used in making potions.]
“I need to speak with him,” Morgana said. “I’ll send him along later.”
James’s eyes narrowed at her, but he nodded. Even in company he barely tolerated, he’d never question her. Especially in company he barely tolerated.
Lucien watched her with a quizzical expression and she smiled. The parlor door closed silently behind her. They wouldn’t be interrupted by servants. Now was the time.
“Since we met,” she said confidently and closed the distance between them. “I’ve been attracted to you.”
He nodded, caressing her cheek with the knuckles of one hand. “I’ve felt the same way.”
“Good,” she whispered, voice husky, lips a breath from his. “Come upstairs with me.”
Lucien tried to recall a time when a woman was bold enough to seduce him, and could not. Morgana was different from his previous lovers and far, far more daring. His entire being was focused on her, on her body. Thoughts of their night, the venom, and André’s mysterious buyer swept from his head the instant she kissed him.
Now, both half naked, his lips trailed down her thigh, over her knee, to her delicate ankle. Up the other leg, over the delicate swell of her hip. He looked at her in the dimness of the room. And in the shifting shadows, her eyes were a deep recess that drew Lucien in and captured him. In those interminable minutes before their lips touched again, he felt himself drowning in her; her taste, her scent, her very essence.
Their lips touched softly, gently at first. Flesh on flesh. Then she opened her mouth under his and drew him in. He watched her eyes flutter shut as she gave herself over and he pulled her closer, determined to have all of her this night.
Tiny, invisible tendrils wound around them, drawing them to each other, into each other and together they crossed that final barrier. He felt her hands move up his sides, over his shoulders to caress his neck, only to wind themselves around and pull him even closer, molding her body to his – perfectly.
Lucien thought he knew what it was to give into lust. To know that rush, and revel in it for as long as it lasted. Thought he’d experienced everything there was to experience when it came to matters of the flesh. As her hands tugged off his shirt, slowly roaming the bare flesh underneath, he discovered he was wrong.
Morgana sighed his name. “Lucien.”