Chapter 10
Lumel's POV
I trailed him down the hall, watching the easy way he walked—completely oblivious to me behind him. My patience was wearing thin.
Without warning, I grabbed his wrist and yanked him into a narrow side corridor, away from curious eyes.
"Mr—"
I didn't let him finish. My mouth crashed against his, swallowing whatever protest he'd been about to make. He stiffened, his hands pressing at my chest, trying to shove me away. I didn't budge.
After a moment—after that first sharp inhale—his resistance faltered. The push turned into something else. Something yielding.
I slid my hand to his waist, tugging him closer until our chests were flush. His arms came up almost hesitantly, wrapping around me. That was all the invitation I needed.
My palm slipped beneath his shirt, fingers splaying across warm skin. I broke from his lips only to trail down to the curve of his neck, where I bit—hard enough to make him gasp. A sound—small, breathy—escaped him, and I smiled against his skin.
"You like that," I murmured, though it wasn't really a question.
I pulled back just enough to see him—his cheeks flushed, breathing uneven. My smirk deepened. Slowly, I licked my lips, letting my gaze roam over him in a way I knew would get under his skin.
Leaning in, my breath brushed his ear. "There's more where that came from…" My teeth caught his earlobe for just a second before I released him and stepped away.
His dazed expression followed me as I walked out, satisfied.
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Alistair's POV
My back was still against the wall long after he'd gone, the ghost of his touch burning against my skin.
I pressed my hand to my neck where his mouth had been—where his teeth had been—and felt the tender heat there. I didn't even need a mirror to know there'd be a mark.
"What… the hell was that?" I whispered to no one, my voice hoarse.
My lips tingled. My chest felt tight. And my head—God, my head was a mess. I'd tried to push him away, I swear I did. But then… something in me had gone soft, like my body was moving on its own. This had never happened to me before. I always told myself that the last time was because of the drink, that if I wasn't drunk it wouldn't have happened, and now...
And the way he looked at me before he left—like I was something he'd already claimed—it made my stomach twist in a way I couldn't name.
I let out a shaky breath, straightening my shirt and trying to force my face back into something neutral. I still had work to do. I couldn't afford to be caught wandering around looking like I'd just been…
Nope. Not going there.
Still, as I walked back toward my desk, my mind kept replaying the moment his mouth moved to my neck… and the low, knowing tone of his voice when he said, There's more where that came from.
Damn him.