Tainted Desire

𝓗𝓲𝓼 𝓣𝓸𝓾𝓬𝓱

Evangeline's breath hitched as Lucian's words lingered in the air between them, as if daring her to cross an invisible line she wasn't even sure she wanted to see. Her instincts told her to leave, to turn back toward the glittering ballroom and its sea of meaningless conversations. But something about him—his presence, the dark intensity in his eyes—held her there, like she was a moth irresistibly drawn to a flame.

She swallowed, feeling the heat of his gaze wrap around her like a whisper, the ballroom around them falling into a distant blur. Her heart drummed in her chest as if warning her that the moment she said yes, everything would change.

Lucian leaned in closer, his voice a low, seductive hum. "What are you afraid of, Evangeline?" His breath brushed against her ear, and it sent a shiver through her body. "Me?"

His question hung in the air, and she felt her lips part, words forming but refusing to surface. Was it him she feared? Or was it herself—her own reaction to the dark, dangerous allure he so effortlessly exuded? She had spent years guarding herself, holding others at arm's length, never letting anyone see the cracks beneath her perfect surface. But here, in front of Lucian, it felt as though all her defenses were crumbling. She could barely think straight under the weight of his gaze.

"Should I be?" she whispered, her voice betraying the hesitation and thrill that churned inside her. It felt like a dangerous game they were playing, and she wasn't entirely sure of the rules.

Lucian's eyes flickered with something she couldn't quite place—amusement, maybe, or perhaps the barest hint of something darker. He took another step closer, and the space between them became non-existent. She could feel the heat of his body now, the closeness almost suffocating. Her breath quickened as she tilted her head slightly, looking up at him.

His hand reached for her then, sliding up the side of her arm, his touch featherlight yet electrifying. It was as though he were testing the waters, seeing how far he could push her. Evangeline's skin tingled under his fingertips, her body betraying her as she trembled at his touch. His fingers traveled slowly, deliberately, tracing a line up to her neck, brushing against her pulse, which beat wildly beneath his hand. Her heart pounded, a rhythm of warning and want that pulsed in time with the growing tension between them.

"You're already in too deep," he murmured, his thumb grazing the side of her neck, dangerously close to her jaw. "Even if you try to walk away, you'll be back." His voice was a mix of certainty and seduction, and for the briefest moment, Evangeline wondered if he was right.

His words washed over her, drowning out the rational voice in her head that screamed at her to pull away. Instead, she found herself leaning in ever so slightly, as if to challenge him, to prove him wrong—or perhaps to see just how right he was.

"You're awfully sure of yourself," she whispered, the tiniest hint of defiance flickering in her tone. She could feel the tension between them like a taut string, one wrong move and it would snap.

Lucian chuckled, the sound deep and dark. "I'm sure of you." His hand slid from her neck to her waist, and before she could catch her breath, he had pulled her closer. Their bodies pressed together, his breath hot against her skin as he leaned down, his lips hovering inches from hers.

Evangeline's heart raced, her pulse a wild, frantic rhythm against the solid calm of his. She didn't know how she had gotten here—so close to him, so willing to let herself fall into this moment—but there was no denying the electricity that crackled between them. She could feel the danger radiating from him, but it didn't scare her the way it should. If anything, it thrilled her.

Her hands, previously hanging at her sides, instinctively reached up, resting against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath the smooth fabric of his suit. The warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips only heightened the dizzying sense of being completely and utterly consumed by him.

"You don't even know me," she said, her voice barely audible as her lips hovered just shy of his.

"I know enough." His eyes darkened, and for a fleeting moment, she thought she saw something raw, something hungry flash in them. "I know you're not as untouchable as you want people to believe. I know you're not as cold as you pretend to be. You feel everything, Evangeline. You're just too afraid to let anyone in."

His words struck a chord deep inside her, and it was as though he had peeled back a layer of her soul with just a few sentences. She should have felt exposed, vulnerable, but instead, it made her want him more. He saw through her mask, and that terrified and exhilarated her in equal measure.

"You don't know what you're asking for," she warned, though the words felt weak, her conviction faltering. She was close to falling over the edge, and they both knew it.

"Maybe I do," Lucian replied, his voice a low growl as his hand slid up to her chin, tilting her face up to his. His thumb traced the curve of her bottom lip, sending sparks of heat through her body. "But the question is, do you?"

She didn't have time to respond before his lips claimed hers in a kiss that stole the breath from her lungs. It was fierce, demanding, and unapologetically possessive. The moment their lips met, it was as though the world around them disappeared, leaving nothing but the fire igniting between them.

Evangeline's hands tightened on his chest, gripping the fabric of his suit as she let herself fall into the kiss, surrendering to the pull that had been building since the moment their eyes met. Every part of her screamed that this was wrong, that this was reckless, but she couldn't stop. She didn't want to stop.

Lucian's hand gripped her waist firmly, pulling her even closer, as though he couldn't get enough of her, as though the space between them wasn't enough to satisfy the hunger he had ignited. His other hand slid into her hair, tilting her head to deepen the kiss, his movements controlled, but burning with intensity.

Evangeline could barely think, her mind consumed by the heat of his lips, the strength of his grip, the undeniable chemistry that roared to life between them. She had never felt anything like this—so raw, so overpowering. It was as if Lucian had stripped away every layer of pretense, exposing the truth of what she wanted. What she needed.

And for the first time in a long time, she didn't feel like running