Celine's lips closed around the rim, licking it and then dipping her tongue inside its opening. She took it out and licked it again, her tongue tracing its edges. It seemed to give her a good feeling, as her expression turned a lot happier than before.
"Okay, that's enough," Lucian said and took the bottle away, his cheeks red from watching her. He had no idea what she was doing, but he was not going to let her keep doing it.
"Hey," she complained and tried to reach for it, "Don't take away the only thing keeping my mind busy."
He raised his arm above his head, "You are not thinking of dirty things, are you?" he asked, and she looked at the ceiling, avoiding his eyes. "Lust is a weakness of the mind, unless it's used to control others. Isn't it one of the Rochefort house rules?"
She paused and then burst into sharp laughter, perfected into unsettling whoever heard it. "I had to keep my virginity intact and came with that set of morals. Ah, the cute innocence of youth... how nostalgic," she sighed, shaking her head. "Don't tell me you actually believed it?"
"..."
"..."
"..." He took a huge gulp from the bottle, then realized she had licked it clean and spewed it all over her face. "..." He quickly silenced her shriek, pressing his lips onto hers. Their eyes widened.
With one hand holding the bottle, and the other her hip, his mouth was the closest thing to hers. There was no time or space to think, breathe, or regret.
"Mmmpf!"
He swallowed her curses and drank her rage. Their noses pumped into each other's cheek and the strangling sounds filled the room. It sounded like either one of them was trying to suffocate the other to death.
The crate below her swayed and wiggled dangerously under their weight, causing her to clamp his head between her hands and her legs around his waist.
The kiss was meant to distract, not arouse. But like most times, it all went to hell and beyond.
He pressed her closer, and she pressed even harder against him, her lips grinding against his.
"Mmm...hah, mm—" She moaned into his mouth, and he groaned in return. Their tongues rubbed against each other inside her mouth, and then inside his.
Everything was being pushed aside by a burning need that had been smoldering beneath the surface for far too long. How easy it would have been if they could forget that they were two different people, and just become one. Then, he would never have to worry about separation or betrayal. There would be no 'her' or 'him', just 'them'. And then, he wouldn't feel incomplete anymore.
He parted away from her lips to take another gulp from the bottle. The growing thirst was nowhere near gone; if anything, it grew. It grew, and so did his urge to quench it.
Her lips traced the corner of his mouth, "Nuuh~" making a needy sound as she used her tongue to push away the glass that was blocking her access to his mouth, "...more..."
He took another sip, and she groaned in protest. She was about to push the bottle away when he kissed her again, deeper and wilder than before. He set the bottle aside, their only distraction left behind them, and began to roam his hands down her backside.
"...Hng-!" she quivered in his arms, biting on his lower lip as if she couldn't handle the intensity of the sensations anymore. Digging her nails into the nape of his neck, she licked the place where her teeth had marked him, and the tingling sensation it caused made him inhale sharply.
Gripping her hips, he pulled her to the edge of the crate, against his groin, and her legs tightened, pulling him even closer.
"Lord Arclight?" Sir Claude called out, entering the stable, "..." His eyes widened at the scene, and the two froze.
Celine's fingers dug into his hair, and Lucian tightened his grip on her hips, keeping her in place. The grinding stopped, their breaths coming in short, quick puffs. He could feel the rapid rise and fall of her chest pressed against his as he hid her from the other man's view.
"How can I help you, Sir?" Lucian panted against her lips.
The knight backed away towards the door, "Nothing. It's just everyone was looking for you... I'll go back to inform them that you are busy."
"Please, do," Lucian said, and the Knight rushed out of the stable.
Celine clung tightly to Lucian, burying her face into his shoulder, her breath tickling his neck. He stroked her wig, and instead of lifting her head, she let out a quiet whimper.
He leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Was that drunk enough for your tastes, My Lady?"
A quiet sob escaped her in response, and he froze. Another choked cry followed after the first, then a third...
There was a time he would've knelt, would've wiped each tear like it was a mortal wound upon her skin. Now, he stood still while his clothes soaked up her tears.
He wouldn't beg for love again.
He'd create hunger.
Build need.
Let her starve.
╔═══ Author's note ════╗
Lucian wants to forgive her but also doesn't. Does it make sense? He is such a contradicting person, so it's quite difficult to write him consistently with how unstable he is internally.😫
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