Chapter 67

After dinner, Lucian gently led me through a quiet hallway to his private wing of the estate. The weight of formalities melted away when the doors shut behind us. "Thank you," he murmured, brushing a lock of hair from my cheek. "For tonight. For standing by me." My eyes softened. "You're the one who needed to face your family. I just stood beside you." He cupped my face. "That's everything." There was no urgency in his touch tonight—only reverence. He leaned in slowly, letting our foreheads touch before his lips found mine, not demanding but savoring. Lucian guided me to the bed. "Lie down," he whispered. When I sank into the soft linen sheets, Lucian knelt beside the bed and pressed his lips to my ankle, my calf, and the inside of my thigh, trailing reverent kisses upward. His touch was feather-light, building anticipation, warming my skin wherever his lips lingered. His hands moved over me slowly, teasingly. He kissed my stomach, my collarbone, my shoulders, pausing to look up at me