Hidden Desires
The night was as quiet as a whispered secret, the world around them still and frozen in the icy grip of winter. The air hung thick with unspoken words and an electric current between them that neither could deny.
Lucius watched Narcissa as she stepped closer, her breath visible in the chilled night air, her figure bathed in the pale light of the moon. Her beauty, in this moment, was more striking than ever. The way the shadows played across her features only made her more ethereal, more untouchable.
Yet here she was. With him.
He took a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently graze her arm. The contact was brief but loaded with meaning—an unspoken invitation, a promise of more to come. Her eyes met his, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The weight of their feelings hung between them, heavy but undeniable.
Without a word, Lucius reached for her, his hand finding the back of her neck, pulling her gently towards him. He could feel her heart racing under his fingertips, matching the erratic rhythm of his own. His lips brushed hers, soft at first, a tentative exploration that sent a shiver down his spine.
The kiss deepened, just enough to send the world around them spinning, the warmth of their bodies pressing together as if they were both trying to erase the space that had always existed between them. He felt the rise and fall of her chest against his, the warmth of her skin seeping into his own. Every moment spent with her felt like a stolen treasure, something fragile that they both knew they could never let anyone else see.
His hand slid from the back of her neck, trailing down her spine until it rested lightly on her waist, the touch possessive but careful. He could feel the tension in her body, the same conflict he carried in his own chest. But there was no stopping this now, not when they had come this far.
Narcissa pulled back slightly, her breath catching as she looked up at him. Her lips were swollen, her eyes dark with something he couldn’t quite read. But there was no denying the hunger in her gaze, a reflection of his own.
“What is this, Lucius?” she asked, her voice low and almost breathless. Her hand came to rest lightly against his chest, fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt as though testing the boundaries between them.
He let out a slow breath, his hand sliding lower on her back, pulling her closer once more, as if he couldn’t help himself. “I don’t know,” he confessed, his voice strained. “But I don’t want it to end.”
Her gaze softened, her eyes searching his face for any trace of hesitation, any sign that he might change his mind. But she didn’t find any. She saw only desire, only the same need that she had tried to push away for so long.
The moment stretched on, and for a heartbeat, the world outside of them ceased to exist. There was only the two of them, standing together in the quiet night, the heat between them radiating like a living thing.
Lucius leaned down again, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “I won’t stop, Cissa. I’ll never stop.”
She swallowed hard, her breath hitching at the intensity in his voice. Her hand, the one that had been resting on his chest, slid up to cup the side of his face, her fingers grazing the sharp lines of his jaw. It was a gesture that spoke of care, of an intimacy that ran deeper than anything they had shared before.
He could feel her hesitation, but it was fleeting. It always had been.
Lucius took her hand in his, his fingers curling gently around hers, guiding her toward the shadowed alcove at the edge of the garden. He knew there was no going back. There were only the stolen moments between them, only this sweet, heady tension that pulled them closer with every passing second.
The soft crunch of snow beneath their feet was the only sound as they moved into the alcove, hidden from view, their bodies finally pressed together with no distance left between them.
They stood there for a long moment, just holding each other, as if both needed the reassurance that this was real, that they weren’t merely dreaming. Her fingers threaded through his hair, tugging him closer until their lips met once again, the kiss deepening with every heartbeat, every breath.
Lucius’s hands traveled slowly, with intention, as he explored the feel of her, the warmth of her skin beneath his fingers. His touch was careful, reverent even, as though he were memorizing the very essence of her.
She responded in kind, her hands roaming, finding his chest, his shoulders, as if she couldn’t quite believe this was happening, that he was real and not a fantasy that had lived in her mind for so long.
But it wasn’t a fantasy. It was as real as the cold night air, as real as the racing of their hearts.
And for a brief, perfect moment, nothing else mattered.