Peniel
Lucian's lips grazed my neck, warm and persistent. My hand moved between us, gently but firmly pressing him away.
"No," I murmured, my voice barely above a breath, my head shaking as my gaze met his, filled with longing.
"Come on, little thief," he teased softly. "What are you talking about?"
I held my ground, my heart steady. "I asked you a question," I said with a frustrated tone. "And you keep avoiding it."
Lucian's expression darkened, his eyes turned frustrated. "You really want to go there, don't you?" he said, his voice tense.
I bit my lip, holding my ground. "Yes, I do. Because every time I try to talk to you about something real, you turn it into a game. I'm tired of it, Lucian." I whispered under my breath, “I know my work is to submit, but you have promised me so
