Claimed by the Prince of Darkness novel Chapter 215

Chapter 215: Everything I Have Is Yours

Lucian’s question was enough to scatter every thought Ruelle had. One moment she had been hiding behind the closet door, the next his hand waited for hers above the steaming water. Water rolled from his fingers in slow drops before disappearing back into the bath.

Scrambling for a thought, a breathless laugh slipped past her lips and she uttered the obvious, "I—I am wearing clothes."

Lucian didn’t answer immediately. The silence stretched just enough to make her wonder whether she had said something foolish.

"Turn around," his voice low.

Ruelle’s breath hitched, her mind unable to find another reason to leave. She turned on her heel, her back coming to face the stone bathtub. At the same time, she heard the splash of water as Lucian rose from the bathtub. The sound of water droplets falling back onto the surface echoed like a metronome in the quiet room.

When Lucian stepped up directly behind her, she felt the damp, sleek muscles of his bare chest brush against her spine. She simply stood there with the awareness that Lucian was looking at her as though there were nowhere else in the world worth directing his attention.

Warm fingers brushed the nape of her neck, and every muscle in her back tightened before melting beneath the slow stroke.

Lucian’s hands reached the back of her dress, and with terrifying patience, he began to unlace it. With every loop undone, the heavy fabric parted. When the fastenings finally gave way, Ruelle felt him place his thumbs on both sides of her shoulders, pressing down before slipping the dress down. Soon the dress pooled in a soft heap around her ankles.

His hands next moved to the laces of the corset and as the stiff material gave way and was tossed aside to join the dress, Ruelle was left standing in only her thin inner chemise. Her stomach fluttered when she felt his large hands reach for the hem of the silk and he said,

"Hands up."

Obediently, as if caught in a trance, she raised her arms. The silk chemise slid up, peeling away from her, and was tossed carelessly into a distant corner of the room.

The cool air slipped beneath the thin lace and tickled her skin that had never been left so exposed before another person. Her toes curled, one foot pressing awkwardly over the other as if she could somehow hide herself from the absolute, devouring intensity of the gaze she knew was burning into her bare back.

In an instinctive attempt for modesty, her hands flew up to cross over her chest. Realising she could cover it with her hair, which was tied in pins, her hand reached for it only for her wrist to be caught in his.

"Let it stay," Lucian remarked.

Meanwhile, his other hand found the silk ties of her drawers, his fingers idly toying with them. Embarrassment caught up to her and she protested,

"Lucian—"

"Shh, I know," Lucian’s voice was a low, dark caress that vibrated straight through Ruelle’s bones. The string looped around his finger, and with one pull, the knot gave way before coming to gather around her ankles.

"There," Lucian breathed, his voice quiet, almost gentle. "Now... you can join me."

Ruelle heard a quiet splash behind her as Lucian lowered himself into the bath. The warm water rippled around his broad shoulders before settling in gentle waves against his waist.

He didn’t pressure her to get in right away. But one thought quickly occurred to her that the longer she stood there, the longer she remained exposed. Shy to meet those wine-red eyes, she kept her back turned to him as she carefully submerged herself in the water that had turned cold. But before she could settle into the centre of the bathtub, a strong arm wound around her waist.

Ruelle let out a soft, involuntary shudder as Lucian drew her back, bringing her flush against his chest.

His one hand remained securely around Ruelle’s waist, while his other hand rose, water dripping from his wrist. He traced a lazy circle across the surface of the water. Warmth bloomed outward beneath his fingertip until the water turned warm once again.

"Don’t think too much," Lucian said, his voice softening and her body relaxed against his. His fingers brushed Ruelle’s shoulder, tracing the delicate line of her collarbone before moving upward to cup the side of her neck. The touch was tender. "Your heart is beating so fast I can feel it through your back."

Ruelle’s hands rested on her lap beneath the water. She whispered, "How could it not..."

The memories of the night theatre drifted through her thoughts. Everything she had witnessed on the stage had been bold and intimate, but nothing could compete with the emotions Lucian drew out of her.

When Ruelle moved away from him, her hand extending to pick up the bar of soap, a strong arm wrapped around her waist, drawing her firmly back against the hard chest.

"Where are you trying to go?" Lucian asked, his voice dropping an octave, slipping over her skin. His thumb traced the sensitive line of her ribs before moving upwards, brushing over the soft, exposed curve of her breast just above the waterline.

"Ah–I was going to grab the soap," she blurted out, and the soap in her hand slipped into the water. Her hand flew out to grab at Lucian’s forearm. "Lucian—this is... we shouldn’t..."

"You don’t want to?" Lucian asked, his tone dangerously low.

Ruelle’s gaze faltered beneath his. She replied softly, "It’s not that I don’t want to..."

Something dark flashed through Lucian’s wine-red eyes. For the first time that evening, the careful patience he’d wrapped around every word and touch wore thin, exposing the predator beneath.

"Then tell me, Ruelle. What do you want?" he asked against her throat.

Long, cool fingers moved across the delicate slope of her shoulder before curving gently, wrapping around the vulnerable column of her throat. Her head tilted back against his shoulder at the contact. The thumb of Lucian’s hand pressed just under her jawline, tilting her face up.

When Ruelle felt Lucian’s lips press against hers, the kiss felt like a suppressed longing. With her neck cradled so intimately in his grip, every barrier of modesty or hesitation began to evaporate. Her hands flew to grip Lucian’s thigh to anchor herself as the world spun out of focus. The moan that escaped from her lips was immediately swallowed as he deepened the kiss and the water in the bathtub rippled.

When they finally broke apart for air, Ruelle’s chest heaved, her lips swollen and her brown eyes unfocussed. Lucian’s lips travelled down her neck and then her shoulder.

It was when she was still trying to catch her breath that she felt something press against the small of her back and the curve of her hips.

All this time, she had been so consumed by what he was doing to her that it had never occurred to her that he might be struggling with the same feelings.

As Ruelle struggled to steady her beating heart, she realised something. Pressed against his chest, she now felt his own heartbeat that mirrored hers. All evening, he carried a confidence she lacked. Yet beneath all that composure, his heart had betrayed him.

Lucian scooped a handful of the water in his hand before spilling it slowly over her bare shoulder. The warm droplets traced a slow path down her collarbone, disappearing beneath the surface. He repeated the motion, pouring the water with infinite, hypnotic care, coaxing the remaining stiffness out of her.

Ruelle then turned her head, her hazy gaze meeting his red eyes.

"Lucian..." she asked in a low voice. "What do you want?"

"You shouldn’t ask me that," Lucian’s voice reverberated against her throat. His teeth grazed over the sensitive pulse point of her neck before he bit into it to draw a cry from her lips which was followed instantly by his tongue lapping on it. "If I let myself want, I won’t be able to stop."

Ruelle’s toes curled as her vision swam from his words alone. Like a spark that was beginning to engulf her, she whispered,

"Then have me... Everything I have is yours."

For a second, the dark emotions flickering in Lucian’s eyes were replaced by surprise. But the next moment, he had her turn her body to him, the muscles in his jaw shifting as warm water moved between them.

Ruelle, who had bravely uttered those words, suddenly became acutely aware of his eyes on her. She noticed the inexpensive chain and pendant she had given him hanging around his neck. His hands rested on her thighs beneath the water, his thumbs stroking slow, possessive circles into her soft skin.

"Ruelle. Look at me."

There was something different in his voice now as the effortless composure had roughened around the edges. She raised her eyes while her lashes wavered, but she held his gaze.

"Do you understand what you just offered me?" His eyes never left hers. "Because if I’ve misunderstood you, now is the time to tell me."

Ruelle felt her heart clench at how Lucian was giving her a choice. She nodded.

"No." Lucian’s gaze held hers, his expression turning fierce. "I want to hear you say it."

It was impossible not to melt entirely under that gaze. She then finally said, "I want you." And it was the truth.

"Wrap your arms around my neck," he said, guiding her hands upward. "Don’t let go."

With trembling, obedient hands, Ruelle lifted her arms from the water, droplets cascading down her skin as she looped them around Lucian’s neck. Heat crept up her body.

Lucian’s one hand slid beneath the water to grip her hip while the other pressed flat against the small of her back, bringing her impossibly close. "Now, hold on tight."

Before Ruelle could take another breath, Lucian rose from the bathtub with her in his arms, lifting her out of the water.

Water trailed from their bodies, leaving droplets across the floor as Lucian carried her towards the bed with long strides. Halfway there, a gentle warmth passed over Ruelle, drying her skin within seconds until not a trace of water remained on either of them.

When they reached the bed, Ruelle felt him lower her carefully and she sank into the soft mattress which felt cool against her skin.

Fire burned low in the hearth, its restless glow moving over the walls while the windows remained dark with night.

Before a thought could form in Ruelle’s mind, Lucian came to hover above her. He placed one arm next to her head and the other rested on her waist. While the silk sheets were cool, heat radiated from the pureblooded vampire’s body.

For a moment, Lucian simply stared at her, as though he couldn’t quite believe that the woman in his arms had willingly chosen him. The firelight caught in his wine-red eyes, turning them brighter while shadows moved softly across the sharp planes of his face.

Ruelle’s hand mindlessly reached for his face, placing it on the side of his cheek to see him close his eyes in bliss. To think they had lost all those years in the past with each other, a place and time when he despised her. She didn’t know what she would do if something like that were to happen again. She would surely crumble.

Lucian’s lips brushed the inside of her wrist and his eyes opened. He murmured, "All mine."

Something about those two words made Ruelle’s heart stumble. Perhaps she ought to have been embarrassed, but she wasn’t. Her family had spent her entire life leaving her unchosen and unwanted. But Lucian didn’t just accept her, he claimed her.

Her thoughts were interrupted when he leaned in to kiss her lips. His tongue swept across the seam of her lips, and when they parted, he pushed his tongue without hesitation. The taste of him flooded her senses, which felt intoxicating, and she felt her mind go blank.

Ruelle’s fingers found their way to Lucian’s dark hair, pulling him closer. And when he bit into her lower lip, a whimper tried to escape from her. The taste of her blood drew a low rumble from his chest and her toes curled at the sound.

Without breaking from her mouth, Lucian’s hand moved.

His fingers traced from her waist upward, skimming over the sensitive dip of her ribs with agonising patience, and this had Ruelle’s stomach contract at the feather like touch. His hand climbed higher, his thumb brushing the soft underside of her breast, and her breath hitched.

His lips moved to her throat, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss directly over her neck before he dragged his mouth lower, his tongue sweeping a wet, scorching trail down to the hollow of her collarbone.

Ruelle’s head fell back against the pillows, her body trembling beneath his with every press of his mouth against her skin.

She had thought that some of the books had taught her what desire was. She had never heard any women discuss it, as if something like this didn’t exist.

And this was nothing like watching the play tonight. Every new sensation seemed to strip away all the propriety and silence she had been taught, leaving her body to answer him before her mind could even catch up.

His hand then finally closed over her breast and Ruelle’s lips trembled. The sensation was new and unlike anything she could have imagined. His thumb found the hardened peak and swept over it slowly before pressing down and rolling it in a tight, deliberate circle.

"Ah—!" Ruelle’s hips bucked off the bed, her nails raking down Lucian’s shoulders. Blinding pleasure radiated from her chest straight down between her legs.

"So sensitive," Lucian hummed.

He lifted his head and watched her face with fascination as his fingers continued their merciless attention. Without letting Ruelle recover from the waves of pleasure still rippling through her trembling body, his lips closed over the other tip of the breast.

Lucian’s tongue swept over the stiffened peak, which sent electric shocks straight down her body. He then sucked on it, drawing the sensitive flesh deep into the wet heat of his mouth. She felt his teeth graze the swollen bud before a sharp bolt of pain-pleasure shot through her and he soothed the sting with his tongue.

Slowly, Lucian began to move her hand upward, teaching her the rhythm, letting her feel the way his heavy muscles flexed beneath her palm. She kept a steady rhythm and as seconds passed, she wondered if she was doing it right.

When her eyes moved to meet his, she noticed his jaw clenched. To think that the small, uncertain movement of her hand was affecting him enough to fracture the composure he wore so effortlessly. A strange little thrill moved through her.

Lucian didn’t look away.

His eyes remained half-hooded, fixed on hers with an intensity that made her stomach flip. For several heartbeats, neither of them moved. She suddenly became painfully aware that he was watching her just as closely as she was watching him, noticing every flicker of uncertainty that crossed her face.

But before she could continue further, his hand caught her wrist.

Before she could ask anything, Lucian leaned forward and captured her lips in a fierce, breathless kiss. It was deep and possessive, as he gently pushed her backward onto the bed. She sank back into the soft pillows, her arms naturally wrapping around his neck as the kiss continued.

Ruelle then felt Lucian’s length press against her core.

"I’ll go as slow as you need. Just breathe for me," Lucian’s voice was low and gentle against the panic fluttering in Ruelle’s chest.

Slowly, Lucian pressed forward, stretching, and Ruelle breathed sharply as she felt him fill her.

"Ah!" she cried from the feeling of being pierced. She had heard about married women’s time in bed with their spouse, knowing it would hurt but this stung.

"Breathe. Slowly," he kissed away a stray tear that had pricked the corner of her eye. He gave her the time she needed to adjust to the stretch. As he waited, his thumb gently drew circles over her hip. "Look at me, Ruelle."

Through the discomfort, she opened her eyes and found him watching her.

"Good girl," he praised her.

There was none of the impatience she had quietly feared she might find and he simply waited, his attention fixed upon her as though there was nowhere else he needed to be. Something in her chest softened at the sight.

When she was finally accustomed, she felt Lucian move inch by inch, sinking himself further into the heat of her body until there was no distance left between them.

With agonizing slowness, Ruelle felt Lucian begin to pull back before he pushed back inside.

The rhythm started out hesitant, measured entirely by the tremble of her limbs and the way her breath caught in her throat, but as Lucian felt her body soften and mould to his shape, the pace slowly deepened. Each thrust was enough to dismantle Ruelle.

"Lucian!"

His name kept spilling from her lips, broken between every breath as the overwhelming fullness drove her higher and higher. Her legs wrapped around Lucian’s waist, pulling him deeper, surrendering entirely to the rhythm of his loving her.

Every single inward push of Lucian’s hips struck deep against the most sensitive core of Ruelle’s being, sending shivers straight up her spine and down into her toes.

Her fingers dug frantically into his back, leaving pale red lines against his skin.

"Lucian, wait! I feel like—"

The words dissolved into incoherent moans when Lucian moved faster and harder. The room vanished and the ceiling above blurred in Ruelle’s vision.

"I know," Lucian murmured. "You don’t need to hold back. Let go."

Hearing that command and meeting his burning gaze was enough to push Ruelle over the edge and a cry escaped from her lips as she came apart, her body trembling and her back arching. With a few final, deep thrusts Lucian buried himself, his own climax hitting as he spilled himself inside her, holding her tightly against his chest.

The fire continued to crackle in the fireplace, its warmth settling throughout the room while frost coated the windows.

Ruelle rested her forehead against Lucian’s chest, her breathing still ragged as her skin continued to hum. Her mind was soft, her body wonderfully and thoroughly loved, every lingering trace of heat a testament to how completely she had come undone in his arms.

"How are you feeling?" Lucian asked as his hand stroked gently up and down her bare spine, his thumb tracing the curve of her waist.

"Wonderful..." Ruelle murmured, her throat slightly sore. She blinked slowly through the hazy aftermath before leaning into the warmth of Lucian’s neck.

In the quiet lull that followed, the world felt distant and soft, as if reduced entirely to the space between two breathing bodies resting on the bed right now.

For so long, Ruelle had wondered whether there would ever be someone who would choose her. She heard Lucian’s steady heartbeat beneath her ear. Somewhere, she had worried she might seem clumsy. Yet he had never once made her feel as though she were doing something wrong. Every uncertain touch had only seemed to make him want her more.

Her body felt pleasantly spent, sensitive to the gentlest stroke of Lucian’s fingers. There was a dull, thrumming ache in her body, but it was matched by an almost weightless sensation, as if her soul had been untethered and allowed to float.

Seeking a little more comfort, she moved slightly only to freeze mid-movement.

Pressed firmly against her inner thigh was Lucian’s length that had hardened once more against her flushed skin.

Ruelle looked up and met Lucian’s gaze. He didn’t look even remotely apologetic. Instead, his arm tightened slightly around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer until there was not a sliver of space left between them.

"But...we just..." Her voice trailed off in stunned silence.

A slow, ghost-like smile touched Lucian’s lips as he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Ruelle’s jaw to hear her sigh.

"I can’t help it. I should let you rest," he murmured against her warm skin, his hand already trailing down the curve of her hip. "But would you forgive me if I told you once wasn’t quite enough?"