The rain hammered the corrugated awning above her, a relentless rhythm mirroring the frantic beat of her heart. One moment, she was lost in the silver depths of Lucien's eyes; the next, a primal instinct screamed for her to flee.
Her boots splashed through puddles, each step echoing the frantic mantra in her head: *Run. Escape. Get away.* But even as she tore down the slick, narrow alleyways of the French Quarter, some twisted, ancient part of her yearned for him to catch her.
She barely made three steps before hearing it: a low, rumbling growl that vibrated through the cobblestones beneath her feet.
And then he was there.
Lucien moved faster than she thought, materializing before her like he owned the night itself. The shadows seemed to cling to him, amplifying his presence, his power.
She stumbled to a halt, chest heaving, soaked to the bone. His eyes weren't silver anymore. They were molten mercury, gleaming with a hunger so fierce it sucked the air from her lungs.
"Where are you going, little moon?" Lucien purred, his voice dark and velvet-soft, a caress that sent shivers down her spine despite the cold.
She backed up instinctively and slammed against the cold brick wall behind her. The rough texture scraped against her skin, starkly contrasting his touch's imagined silk.
Lucien followed, stalking her, closing the distance until there was nothing between them but the thinnest breath of air. Her head tipped back against the wall, raindrops sliding down her cheeks like tears. But she wasn't crying. She was burning.
He lifted one hand and braced it above her head, caging her in. The other brushed the wet hair from her face, his fingers trailing down her throat in a featherlight caress that made her shudder.
"So beautiful," he murmured, his voice a sinful caress. "So breakable." His thumb dragged slowly over her bottom lip, smearing rain and blood and something more – a promise of devastation.
Her body betrayed her spectacularly. She arched into him, her breasts pressing against the hard line of his chest, seeking more contact, more heat, more him.
"You feel it, don't you?" Lucien whispered, his mouth hovering a breath from hers. "This pull between us."
She squeezed her eyes shut, but it didn't reveal the truth. It was there alive and ravenous, the connection snapping between them like a live wire, short-circuiting everything she thought she knew about herself.
"I…I don't even know you," she managed, her voice trembling.
Lucien's low laugh rumbled against her chest. "You will," he promised. "And you'll never forget me."
Before she could protest, Lucien pressed into her whole thigh between her legs, hand sliding down to grip her hip. She gasped, the friction setting her nerves on fire.
He dipped his head, mouth brushing the shell of her ear. "You smell like moonlight and innocence," he rasped. "I want to ruin it."
His words sent a shockwave straight to her core. She whimpered, the sound embarrassingly needy, and Lucien's answering growl vibrated against her bones. He gripped her hips, pinning her harder against the wall, grinding the rigid evidence of his arousal against her center in a slow, maddening roll.
Heat flooded her, so intense that she thought she might come apart. Her hands traitorous, eager isted in his soaked shirt, dragging him closer.
"Tell me to stop," Lucien murmured against her throat, lips ghosting over her racing pulse. "Say no, and I'll let you go."
She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She didn't want him to stop. God helped her; she wanted more.
Lucien's mouth found the hollow of her throat, tasting her skin with a low, appreciative sound. He nipped her lightly, a sharp sting of teeth that had her crying out softly, then soothed the spot with a languid, wicked lick.
"You taste even better than you smell," he growled, his voice rough, fraying at the edges.
Her legs trembled. She should push him away. She should fight. She should scream.
Instead, she tilted her head, offering him her throat. Surrendering.
Lucien stilled as if fighting some internal war. His chest rose and fell against hers, rapid and ragged. Because that's what they were, long and razor-sharp, his fangs glinted in the faint streetlight. He wanted her, needed her. He could taste the magic thrumming beneath her skin, the intoxicating blend of vulnerability and defiance that called to the beast within him. He knew he should stop, should let her go, but the thought was unbearable.
His hand slid up her side, fingers splaying over her ribcage, inching closer to the curve of her breast. Her breath hitched.
"You don't know what you're asking for," Lucien rasped. "If I take you…if I taste you…I won't stop."
She met his burning gaze, her own resolve solidifying. "Then don't."
For a heartbeat, the world froze. The rain ceased to matter. The night itself seemed to lean closer, holding its breath.
And then Lucien snapped.
His mouth crashed down on hers, hot and brutal and devastating. She moaned into him as he kissed her like he wanted to consume her soul – hands roaming her body with desperate, possessive hunger. He gripped her thighs and lifted her effortlessly, pressing her against the cold, wet brick. She wrapped her legs around his waist instinctively, locking him closer. The friction between them was unbearable brutal heat against aching need, and still, it wasn't enough.
Lucien broke the kiss long enough to growl, "Mine," before he tore the wet fabric of her shirt aside, baring the smooth, trembling skin of her collarbone. She cried out when his mouth found her flesh, suckling hard enough to leave a mark, his teeth scraping a path that had her thighs clenching around him. Her nails raked down his back, earning a hiss of pleasure from Lucien that vibrated against her skin.
He kissed lower, his tongue teasing the edge of her bra, a wicked promise in every slow, agonizing swipe. She writhed against him, lost to sensation, lost to him.
"Lucien…" she gasped, unsure whether it was a plea or a prayer.
He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze and what she saw there, the raw, consuming need, terrified and thrilled her. He wanted her, needed her, but there was something else there too, a flicker of something vulnerable, something almost…lost.
"This is only the beginning," he vowed darkly. "And I am a very greedy man."
Without another word, Lucien crushed his mouth to hers again, claiming her all over and she, against all reason, all logic, all survival opened herself to him completely.