Remember me(WMMAP Fanfic Lucas x OC)

Thawing the frozen heart part-2

A/N: This is purely a Fanfic and I don't own WMMAP or its Characters, this chapter contains Mature content read at your own discretion.

Their kiss blazed with a fierce passion, growing hotter by the second. Lucas held Ria tightly, his hands exploring her with an almost desperate need, as if he wanted to engrave every inch of her into his memory. He held her as though she were the only thing anchoring him to reality, his grip firm and unyielding, unwilling to let her slip away. For him, the kiss was an escape and a homecoming all at once—a raw, unrestrained surge of emotion that seemed to burn away the years of longing and distance between them.

When Ria finally pulled back, gasping for air, her cheeks flushed and her heart pounding, she tried to catch her breath. "W-wait, Lucas—" she whispered, her voice breathless. But he didn't let her go easily, a low growl of protest rumbling from deep in his throat as his lips lingered near hers, the sudden distance between them almost painful. His breathing was uneven, his chest heaving with the same ragged breaths as hers, and for a moment, he just looked at her, his eyes filled with an intensity that bordered on desperation.

He fought to gather himself, though his trembling hands betrayed the wild desire still coursing through him. His gaze softened, but his expression remained vulnerable as he finally spoke, his voice rough, almost pleading. "Please... don't leave me alone again." His arms tightened around her, as though afraid she might vanish into thin air if he loosened his hold for even a moment. The words were simple, yet they echoed with all the longing, the loneliness, and the unresolved feelings he had held onto for so long.

Ria's expression softened, and she reached up, brushing her fingers along his cheek, her touch gentle but certain. "I'm yours tonight, Lucas," she promised, her voice barely more than a whisper but filled with the depth of her conviction. And those words seemed to crack something in him. Lucas let out a shuddering breath, his tension dissolving into a vulnerable relief as he leaned into her touch, burying his face in the crook of her neck as if he could somehow draw strength and comfort from her closeness.

"Then... prove it," he murmured, a playful yet challenging edge in his voice as he tightened his hold on her, almost daring her to back down. His words hung in the air like a spark between them, igniting the passion they had both tried so hard to suppress.

Ria didn't hesitate, pulling him back into another kiss, her lips meeting his with a fervor that answered his challenge and fueled his desire. This kiss was different—fiercer, more consuming. It was as if they were both pouring years of unspoken words and suppressed feelings into this one moment, trying to make up for lost time with each fevered kiss and each desperate touch.

Lucas's hands moved to the laces of her corset, fumbling in his haste to remove it. His fingers worked with an intensity that made it clear he was a man on the edge, every ounce of his focus dedicated to feeling the warmth of her skin beneath his hands. As he loosened the final lace, Ria smirked, unable to resist a tease. "Disappointed?" she asked, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

Lucas blinked, momentarily taken aback before a grin broke across his face, his brow furrowing in genuine confusion. "Impossible," he murmured, his voice full of admiration as he looked at her. "You're... perfect." His fingers traced along her bare skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake, and a shiver ran down her spine as his touch lingered over her shoulders and down her arms. "I'm going to take my time tonight... After all, I have years of loneliness to repay."

"Then who's stopping you, Lord of the Tower?" she whispered, her breath brushing against his ear, a subtle invitation wrapped in playful defiance.

Her words ignited something deeper within him. With a renewed intensity, he pulled her flush against him, his mouth finding hers once again in a kiss that was as possessive as it was passionate. His weight settled over her, pressing her back into the softness of the bed, his mouth demanding and insistent. His tongue swept against hers, coaxing, claiming, and his need was unmistakable, as tangible as the heat radiating from their bodies.