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Claimed by the Prince of Darkness

The clock struck midnight when Ruelle heard the echo of footsteps. She tensed, the fine hairs on the back of her neck standing on end in the cool night air. "You shouldn't be here," Ruelle whispered, her voice a breathless murmur. The silhouette finally came to stand under the moonlight, his dark red eyes watching her and his inky black hair ruffling. "Shouldn't I?" His voice was a dark caress, and she stood there captivated by the danger he exuded like perfume. "I haven’t seen you for the last two days," his tone low. His hand reached out, fingers brushing against the silk of her nightgown, tracing the trembling outline of her collarbone. "Tell me, were you avoiding me, or perhaps... entertaining other offers?" Ruelle’s heart raced, her breaths shallow. She declared, "I don't belong to anyone.” "A bold claim," he murmured, his breath a tantalising chill against her skin as he leaned in. "Yet here you are, pulse racing, your body tensed as if in anticipation of my touch." His fingers gripped her chin, tilting her face towards his. The moonlight caught his eyes, revealing a glint of predatory intent. "Or must I remind you whose touch you truly crave?"

ash_knight17 · Fantasia
Classificações insuficientes
44 Chs

Is this a gift?

Ruelle awoke to the warmth of the couch, the softness beneath her far better than anything she had known in years. The air in the room was still, but there was a faint sound—a rhythmic shuffling that made her blink away the last remnants of sleep.

Lucian was already awake.

When she dared to glance in his direction, all she could see at first was his tall frame silhouette against the faint glow of early dawn. The dim light filtered through the heavy curtains, casting his form in shadow. For a moment, she thought he was simply standing there, but as her eyes adjusted, she noticed the fluid, controlled movement of his body.

He was working out.