Chosen By The Cursed Alpha King (Emilia) novel Chapter 177

ADELE’S POV

The palace was quiet, the kind of deep, heavy silence that only comes late at night-when everyone else is asleep.

Moonlight spilled through the half-open curtains, silver and cool across the bed. I was already in my nightgown—a thin silk slip the color of midnight, short enough that it barely skimmed the tops of my thighs. I’d chosen it on purpose earlier, telling myself it was just comfortable, but really 1 knew better. I was playing the same game he was.

I sat propped against the headboard, pretending to read a book I hadn’t turned a page in for twenty minutes. Lucien had been in the bathroom forever. The shower had stopped, yet the door stayed locked. I didn’t care, I told myself. Not one bit. He could stay in there until morning for all it mattered to me.

Then the door opened.

Steam rolled out first, warm and scented with his soap-something dark and spicy that always made my stomach tighten. And then he stepped into the room.

My breath stopped.

He had a towel wrapped low around his waist, water still dripping from his hair and down his chest. Beads of it traced over the hard lines of his muscles, sliding over his shoulders, down the deep V of his abs, disappearing beneath the white fabric. His skin glowed golden in thesoft light of the bedside lamp, every inch of him carved and powerful and unfairly beautiful.

He didn’t look at me right away. He just walked a few steps into the room, casual as anything, and reached for the knot of the towel.

Then he pulled it off.

Completely naked.

The towel dropped from his fingers like it weighed nothing, and he used it to roughly dry his hair instead, rubbing it over the dark strands while water kept dripping down his body.

Holy goddess.

I forgot how to breathe.

My eyes betrayed me, dragging down his body before I could stop them. Broad shoulders, strong arms, strong chest. And lower… his cock was already hard, thick and heavy, curving up against his stomach like it was reaching for something.

For me.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

I remembered my own words from earlier-It’s your turn to seduce me-and heat flooded my cheeks. This was his answer. This was him starting the game.And damn it, it was working.

But I would rather bite off my own tongue than let him know that.

He walked further into the room, slow and deliberate, until he was standing at the foot of the bed in full light.

Every drop of water caught the glow, making his skin shine. He looked like something dangerous and beautiful carved out of night itself.

Then he met my eyes.

Dark. Intense. Burning.

He didn’t smile. He didn’t speak.

He just tossed the towel onto the couch without looking away from me.

And then…goddess help me…his hand wrapped around his cock.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

He stroked himself once, base to tip, thumb brushing over the head, and the sound he made-low, rough, hungry-went straight between my legs.

My thighs almost pressed together on instinct. I caught myself just in time, forcing them to stay relaxed. I wasn’t going to give in. Not yet. Not that easily.

He did it again. Slower this time. His grip tight, eyes locked on mine like he was daring me to look away.

I didn’t.

I couldn’t.

I sat there frozen, book forgotten in my lap, watching him touch himself like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like he wasn’t trying to set me on fire.

He sped up again, strokes long and firm, eyes dark and wild.

“Fuck… fuck, Adele… my fucking Adele…”His voice cracked on my name, raw and desperate, and then he came-hard—spilling over his hand, body shaking, head tipping back just enough to show the strong line of his throat.

He groaned through it, long and low, every muscle tense and trembling.

When it was over, he stayed there a moment, breathing hard, chest rising and falling fast. Then he looked at me again.

And smirked.

Slow.

Satisfied.

Like he knew exactly how close he’d pushed me.

Like he knew I was soaked and aching and pretending I wasn’t.

He straightened, grabbed the towel again, and cleaned his hand without breaking eye contact. Then he tossed it aside once more.

I swallowed hard, but kept my voice steady.

“Good night, Lucien,” I said, cool and sweet, as I lay back against the pillows and pulled the covers up to my chin.

I turned off the bedside lamp with a soft click.The room fell into moonlight and shadow.

I closed my eyes, heart racing, body on fire.

And I smiled into the dark.

Game on.