Ever the prince.
Her hand itched to reach out and pull him in. To feel that fire coursing through her when he kissed her on the mountain. She wanted to see him undone and be the reason he forgot his crown and the expectations on his shoulders. It would be easy. After all, for all his gentlemanly behavior, there was a hesitation as he began to pull the door shut after she stepped through the threshold.
It couldn’t be him, though. This would have to be her choice, and for all her walls and reasons, Luci let the door shut on her murmured goodnight. The moment the door shut, she cursed herself, listening for his retreating steps.
This was all new to her. This fire, this want. To have and want for only herself and not another person. A single act of selfishness that would change everything. Frustrated and pacing, Luci caught sight of herself in the mirror and stopped. Her cheeks were flushed red, and her eyes bright. Alive.
There was more color and spark to her than she could remember. Running a hand down her neck slowly, she felt that fire burn low in her. That unfamiliar, but consuming want.
“Don’t be a coward,” she whispered to herself.
What if she knocked on his door, and everything she thought she understood was misconstrued? She’d never survive the rejection. It would be the last want she ever knew. After all, they had time. She had time. They’d go back tomorrow, save Brielle, she would officially withdraw from the engagement, then what? Lord Treveon would say, Congratulations, Lucinda, so glad you fell in love with the prince and are getting married. What a great queen you will make.
Of course, and the king and queen will be ecstatic to see their son marrying a commoner, orphaned servant. Lady Annabeth and her father will certainly throw the first party in her honor. What could go wrong?
A half-crazed broken laugh shook from her, and she knew then what this was. Why was her heart beating so fast, and why would the fire refuse to quell? There was no more time. There was only tonight in a little inn in a little town. Tomorrow, she would save Brielle, but she would lose Ira. With their engagement dissolved, Brielle and Luci would return to Blythe, and everything would be exactly what it was before.
It was the same life she’d loved before with the person she loved best. She wouldn’t complain about it because she was lucky to have it, but before she went back, she wanted to know this one. This one wants.
One act of selfishness.
Without a second thought for virtue or consequences, Luci opened her door and let it shut without another breath. If she breathed, she would remember all the reasons this was a terrible idea. What if it made walking away harder? What if she embarrassed herself? What if, what if, what if.
What if she always regretted not taking this moment?
Two doors down from hers, she knocked on the door, far too rough and loud. Her chest felt like it might explode between her heart and her lack of air, but at midnight, she felt alive in the best way.
The second the door opened, she knew she hadn’t misread a single thing. His hair was mussed, and a red streak over his neck from where he’d been rubbing it told her all she needed to know.
“Lucinda,” his eyes flashed.
No regrets, just living for this moment.
Lucinda Blackthorn stepped over the threshold and grabbed Ira’s shirt, pulling him into her. Next thing she knew, her lips were on his, and the fire in her burned with need and anxiety, but she shouldn’t have worried.
Ira was quick to thread his hand into her hair while he pulled her closer with his hand pressed to her lower back. Twisting her body, he kicked the door shut, and she was grateful he didn’t ask if she was sure because all she needed was this. The way his tongue pressed against her lower lip, forcing her to open for him, and midnight she did.
A bolt of energy shot through her as he explored her mouth, claiming her as his. His to touch, his to hold, and she had never wanted to concede a battle more. It wasn’t the gentle, searching kiss they shared on the mountain, but a desperation, a hunger.
Teeth, lips, and tongues fighting for purchase, no sign of the respectful prince she knew, and she loved every second of it. When he gave her a moment of reprieve to run kisses down her neck, she gasped out a breath, but his name was in the air like a plea.
He groaned against her, and she was lost. If this was the only night they ever had, she wasn’t going to waste a single second. She would fit an entire lifetime into six hours, and that would be enough.
“Ira, please, I want this. I want you,” she said, breathless and panting.
He paused where he was currently working her collarbone, and just like that, she knew she said the wrong thing. Water of a flame resigning it to smouldering embers, never to be lit again. He lifted his gaze to hers and light above, she loved the cloudiness in them, the flush of his cheeks, the swelling of his lips. At least she got this. At least she would remember this.
He lifted his hand, cupping her cheek and brushing the hair from her face, studying her, looking for the lie in her words. The misstep.
“I want you, Lucinda. More than anything or anyone in my life,” he said.
Luci gave a bitter laugh, feeling an awful stinging in her eyes.
She stepped away from him, suddenly feeling like his touch was a torture she could no longer endure.
“But,” she said, the word was twisted, bitter.
His eyes narrowed, and he stepped forward again; she stepped back. He let loose a frustrated growl that sent shivers down her back. When he stepped forward, there was nowhere for her to retreat. He pressed her up against the vanity, and she sucked in a breath, feeling like she might implode at any second.