The chamber was warm, the flickering glow of oil lamps casting golden light across Livia’s skin. She remained in Lucius’ lap, her weight a welcome pressure, her eyes filled with something unreadable—half challenge, half invitation.

  Lucius let his hands roam, tracing the curve of her waist, the silk of her stola slipping beneath his fingers. Livia exhaled softly, tilting her head as he pressed his lips to the delicate line of her throat.

  “You always take your time,” she murmured, amusement laced in her voice.

  He smirked against her skin. “And yet, you never seem to mind.”

  She let out a soft laugh, but it turned to a sharp inhale as his teeth grazed her collarbone, his hands tightening slightly around her hips. Livia was used to being in control, teasing and coaxing—but Lucius had no intention of letting her dictate the pace tonight.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  With a slow, deliberate movement, he rolled her beneath him, the rich fabric of the couch pressing against her back. She looked up at him, dark eyes glinting with anticipation as he trailed his lips lower, over the swell of her chest, down the smooth plane of her stomach.

  She arched beneath him, her fingers threading into his hair as his mouth found the sensitive places along her body, each touch deliberate, meant to unravel her inch by inch. The air grew thick with tension, every shift of fabric, every whispered breath, building toward something inevitable.

  Livia’s nails raked gently down his back as she pulled him closer. “Don’t stop.”

  Lucius smirked, his lips brushing her ear as he murmured, “I wasn’t planning to.”