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But Lucian asked. Lucian saw her. Without a doubt, she wanted Lucian for herself, and it was frightening. Though this was as real as it could get, it still wasn’t. They were dreaming. She was stuck in this spell. This was her new reality, and there wasn’t a way to hide from it. She didn’t even know if there an escape.
“What are you afraid of?” he asked and took a tentative step forward.
“I’m afraid that…”
He drew closer.
She swallowed, trying to find a way to articulate it. “Afraid that even if this is real, it isn’t.” Her eyes jumped from his chest to meet his gaze. He was close enough to touch, but she didn’t.
“I thought we established this is real,” he said.
She nodded. “Yes. But, what if… I give in to what I want and it changes things?”
“What you want?” He grinned. “Do you want me?”
“I think you know I do.”
Lucian reached out and smoothed a lock of her hair. His skin against hers felt so good, she leaned into it.
“What we… shared… was exceptionally pleasant,” he said.
She couldn’t help but smile, then closed her eyes and hummed with pleasure as his palm pressed against her face.
“You aren’t curious?” he asked.
She opened her eyes to meet his gaze. If the rush of heat through her was any indication, she was more than curious. “It would be a lie to say otherwise.”
Closing the distance between them, Lucian held her face between his palms and tilted her head so that she was looking into his eyes. “I am interested in you. You are interested in me,” he said. “This is a world where we don’t have to second guess our choices. No consequences.”
“I don’t want to lose you.” The words lodged in her chest, and she had to gasp a breath, grabbing hold of his wrists to keep herself steady.
“I’m here,” he said.
It hit her that if they never broke the spell, this is where she was stuck. Forever. She wanted Lucian. She wanted love. She wanted sex. She wanted more life.
“We are both here.”
He wasn’t wrong.
His thumbs traced the curve of her cheeks to the edge of her mouth. His golden eyes deepened in color, laced with a mysterious darkness that spread as the darkness in his pupils widened. “May I kiss you then, Brinna? Where am I able to kiss you but in my dreams?”
She couldn’t deny she wanted to kiss him, and he was right, they were dreaming, together. So she moved closer, sliding her hands against his chest. “Please.”
Lucian smiled and leaned toward her, waiting just a breath before his mouth touched hers, then closing the space between them. His lips were soft but sturdy, offering and taking in equal measure. The kiss was delicious and sweet.
She’d kissed a boy once, behind the meeting house, when she’d been fourteen. Her romantic notions had written stories about what the first kiss would be, and it had been utterly disappointing. Her only other kiss had been with Lucian outside under the stars, and that kiss had both lifted her toward the heavens, then slammed her back to the ground in its aftermath. Though she recognized this was them walking a dream together, this kiss rewrote her romantic stories. This kiss was everything she thought a kiss was supposed to be. It was reverent, worshipful.
Lucian’s hands slid from her face, one grasping the back of her neck, the other angling across her back, his palm splayed above the curve of her bottom, holding her even closer. He tilted his face, and she mirrored him, holding his shirt in tight fists to keep him close. When his tongue caressed the seam of her lips, requesting entrance, she allowed him in, and the kiss shifted. Where it had been chaste and restrained, the tangle of her tongue with his whipped up a storm between them.
She moaned, releasing his shirt and sliding her hands up around his neck, sinking her fingers into the silky hair at the nape.
More. She wanted more.
“Brinna,” he whispered as his hands grabbed her hips, drawing her tighter. His mouth owned her, craved her, led her deeper toward her own desire.
Closer. She wanted to be closer and rose onto her toes as her insides flooded with want. Her belly drifted over his erection, the knowledge of his desire making her feel powerful and needy.
Touch. She wanted to touch him. Gliding her hand down, she moved, grazing his chest, his abdomen. He tensed under her touch.
