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Twenty-One
What am I supposed to do now?
Throughout the history of our sexual encounters, Lucien and I had never lingered… after. We had always parted company quickly, disappearing as rapidly as we had arrived, only to meet again sometimes days after the fact with barely a word spoken since.
Or during.
Or after.
Repeat.
This time, it was different. This time, Lucien was still here. There was nowhere for either of us to run, not that I felt like he wanted to. Not like I wanted to, either. There was something about laying on the bed next to him like this that had my heart going a mile a minute and my brain chasing after it.
I wanted to shut my thoughts down and just feel, but that was difficult at the best of times. So, I thought, and analyzed, and overanalyzed, all the while trying not to distance myself too much from the pleasurable tingles still rippling through me.
Lucien slowly slid into the bed.
He seemed cool, calm, and entirely collected. Silence hung in the air for a moment, tense, palpable—a moment pregnant with anticipation. I squeezed my thighs shut and looked across to him, waiting for him to speak because I felt like it wasn’t my place to say anything. Not yet.
Not first.
In the dark, Lucien Diaboli met my eyes. “You’re thinking it, too,” he said.
“What am I thinking?” I asked.
“What happens now.”
I swallowed. “I am… but only because I’ve never been here before. We’re used to… parting company.”
“That was before I knew you.”
I paused again. “And now?”
“Whether either of us wanted to leave, we can’t.”
“I… don’t want to leave. But I’m also not sure what happens next.”
“I’m going to tell you what happens next,” he said, “But not right now.”
I frowned. “Why not?”
“Because I want you to answer a question, first.”
My frown deepened; my heartrate elevated. “What’s… what’s the question?”
Lucien paused, a moment that seemed to stretch to fill the darkness between us. “Do you trust me?”
No.
The thought came instantly. I couldn’t shake it, because that was how I genuinely felt. I could only chastise myself for thinking it so quickly. There had been a few coincidences in the past that made me wonder whether Lucien had some sort of telepathic abilities; which meant it was possible he had heard that thought.
I didn’t think it was as easy as that, and I was pretty sure I would have sensed the intrusion, but he already knew so much about me and the things I liked… it wasn’t totally impossible to believe he had access to my thoughts.
How else would he have known that calling me a good girl awakened something inside of me I never knew was there?
“I want to,” I said, toeing the honesty line.
“What stops you?” he asked.
