Chapter 526: The Lord’s Return (2)
He should have let her keep ranting.
But he didn’t.
In three long strides, he closed the distance, ignoring the shuffling soldiers and curious glances from his companions. His hand cupped her flushed, frantic face, his thumb grazing the warm, ink-smeared skin just below her cheekbone. Her breath hitched, her tirade cut off mid-word as her mouth fell slightly open in shock. And then he leaned in and claimed her lips in a kiss that silenced everything.
The scrolls tumbled from her hands, parchment slipping from her fingers like frightened pigeons scattering into the rafters. A few sheets fluttered against his boots, ignored. The air between them thickened, the weight of her breath mingling with his as her initial stiffness crumbled in his arms. She sagged into him with a strangled sound, something between a protest and a shuddering relief, her arms snapping around his neck like iron shackles.
His grip tightened, lifting her off the ground with one effortless pull, her boots scraping against his shins as she clung to him with almost desperate force. Their lips moved together, a feverish tangle that was far less polished than he imagined but far more real. His tongue slipped between her trembling lips, coaxing hers to meet his, tasting ink and the faintest trace of the sweet tea she always drank too cold. The first tentative brush of their tongues sent a shiver through her, a faint (Slrp!) sound crackling between them as their lips parted briefly and crashed back together.
(Slrp...slrp...slrp...)
His tongue flicked along the roof of her mouth, teasing, drawing out a soft whimper from her throat. She retaliated by tightening her hold, pressing her body flush against his chest, her tongue curling around his in frantic rhythm. She tasted sharp—cinnamon, ink, the faint bite of long days without rest. He devoured every taste greedily, his breathing ragged now, his pulse hammering in his ears. Her fingers threaded into his hair, tugging, pulling him deeper, dragging him closer, until their kiss was no longer just a kiss—it was a promise, a tether, a demand to stay.
(Oh my...) Cynthia’s giggle fizzled like sweet wine across his mind.
(This is so indecent! This is public! This is a military hall!) Arturia yelped, her flustered panic nearly drowning out her words.
(Let him have it. He earned it.) Lilith’s low chuckle rumbled like distant thunder.
Their mouths broke apart for the briefest gasp of air, their lips swollen, glistening, their breathing loud and messy. But Arielle didn’t let go. She pressed her forehead against his, her lashes trembling, her chest heaving in sync with his.