Surrendered To The Lord Of Sin-Chapter 54: Unfinished thresholds

Lucrezia stiffened as his nearness shifted from threat to temptation. His words elicited another small sigh from her before she could prevent it, betraying the tremor that ran through her.

She felt his hands travel from her spine to the small of her back, settling there.

Before she could process anything, the torches from the corridor walls diminished at once. Shadows crowded the stone walls, swallowing detail and depth until the world narrowed to shape and action alone. Lucrezia could make out the breadth of his shoulders, the dark fall of his hair, the outline of him as he stepped nearer, but his face remained unreal and unknowably lost to the half-light.

She could feel the cold brush of air on her skin before it was met with warmth. His lips found her neck, and that was enough to draw another soft sound from her.

Her fingers curled at her sides as his hands traced the lines of her dress, finding the laces of her bodice, testing their knots without loosening them.

"M-Milord..."

The warmth of his lips lingered on her collarbone, and her next words dissolved in a quiet swallow. Her head tipped back a fraction instinctively, exposing the fragile line of her throat.

Shame followed instantly. She should not feel this. Not toward him. Not toward this...

His mouth lingered just beneath her ear with his warm, unhurried breath. Each touch coaxed sensation rather than stole it, and that was the most dangerous part. Her body remembered how to respond even as her mind catalogued every reason not to.

Just like the dream, Lucrezia felt the absence of fear as he touched her. His hands rose ever carefully and unassuming, still tracing the lines of her gown.

He played with the ties of her bodice, testing their strength without loosening them until it did exactly the latter.

Lucrezia’s eyes shot open in dread, and she opened her mouth to protest just to be silenced when his lips found the base of her throat.

Another sigh threatened to betray her when his lips pressed more firmly against its hollow, and she bit it back, hard as her jaw tightened.

This was... Neutral, she reminded herself. She had practiced neutrality all her life, understanding how to endure things without yielding to them. This was no different. It could not be.

But it felt different.

Her guilt deepened, suffocating enough, not because she felt fear, but because she did not feel enough of it. The truth was like a sharp cut on her skin.

She was not meant to respond this way. This creature was not meant to feel, just the way she wasn’t meant to accept anything other than neutrality.

And yet her fear did not rise as it should, nor did her restraint. Nor did irritation towards the creature that obliterated a kind she was forced to protect, and murdered her friend cold-bloodedly. Or was it the fact that she actually dreamt of...

The realization cut deeper than any threat. Lucrezia had imagined monsters all her life, had prepared herself for revulsion, for rage, for... terror, but not for this quiet, dangerous absence of either.

The sharp feeling of betrayal slammed so hard she could barely breathe. She drew in a slow breath and gathered herself inward before struggling - so damn hard - turning her face away.

When she spoke, her voice trembled only at first. "M-Milord," she said quietly, anchoring herself in the title and the distance she had tried to create.

She knew it was impossible to gain even the slightest leverage away from his rigid hold, but that didn’t stop her from trying, nor did it stop him from proceeding with his fingers loosening the ties of her bodice and his lips against her skin.

And gods dammit, her body betrayed her also! "M-Milord..." She tried again, sensing every touch charged with temper and thick, thick, lust. It lacerated her skin, probing her blood with a hot consuming sensation. "Milord... I... I don’t..."

Every word was just as mild and helpless as the former. Neutral, she reminded herself against the sensation crawling to find a haven within her mentality. Fighting so hard to overpower any other sense of reasoning.

Hunger, blood, violence—those are what she understood how to survive without surrender. This was no different. It could not be allowed to be different.

But he wasn’t bulging. Tears brimmed at the edges of her vision as she kept trying to push him away. The earlier pleasure ebbed into fear, real fear, especially when he had undone the final ties of her bodice.

"P-please..."

The word fled from her lips without restraint, so mild and weak that it was swept, unheard, carried by the wind.

As the world was finally for her, sensing her restraint, his mouth stilled against her skin.

Lucrezia kept her face away from him, denying him the unconscious offering of her throat but she did not push him away.

She did not flee either. She withheld her consent to continue and avoided her watery gaze from his sight.

Lucrezia didn’t believe her approval meant anything until she felt him move away.

He released her.

As bizarre as it sounded, it was as though she’d survived a long-lost battle.

Silence stretched between them uncomfortably, Lucrezia could hear the heavy thump of her heartbeat.

The absence of his response unsettled her more than any reaction might have. The silence that continued left her oddly... surprised—and, to her shame, faintly disappointed—though she smothered the sensation the moment it surfaced, burying it beneath reason and resolve.

The quiet that stretched between them grew heavy, oppressive, pressing against her chest until each breath felt measured and deliberate. It was even worse for the shadows; she could barely discern his face, let alone read his expression, and the not-knowing gnawed at her composure. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

Panic crept in despite her efforts to contain it. Had she erred? Had she overstepped? Or worse, had she failed some unspoken expectation? Would he find no purpose in her... and... and finally kill her... now?

Questions crowded her thoughts relentlessly, spiraling until she forced herself to still them. This was the one thing she’d been constantly reminded not to clutter; denying him whatever he asked for.

But her heart worked faster than the thought of it. Would he hate her now? Lucrezia almost laughed at the absurdity of that thought. He’d always hated her kind, and she was no different. However, repudiating what he wanted would only make him loathe her more.

The rush of emotions caused her a heavy mind. Whatever came next, Lucrezia reminded herself, she would endure it. She always had.

But the last thing she expected was his retreat after saying, "I should leave you to rest,"

His voice was no less emotionless and utterly detached when she heard him say, accompanied by the sharp thud of his boot as he withdrew immediately, not giving her time to grasp the shock.

And she stood there in the dark, gasping, heart racing, skin still burning where he had touched her. The night air met her skin without mercy, as though to punish her for refusing the warmth she had no right to want.

Lucrezia closed the door behind her with care, the soft click echoing louder than it should have in the stillness of her chamber. It was only then that she allowed herself to exhale.

The room was dim, familiar, scented faintly with linen and oil—safe, in so far as safety existed within Blackvale.

Lucrezia rested her back against the door for a brief moment. She closed her watery eyes, steadying her breath against the chaos of her mind. What-what just happened?!

A lone tear escaped her eyes, and she quickly swatted it away. Her hands trembled before she stilled them, folding them neatly at her waist as she had been taught. Composure first. Always, but she felt it crumbling like dust.

She crossed the room slowly, unpinning her hair with practiced movements, each deliberate motion grounding her further in the present and to the bed which awaited her. Yet sleep felt impossibly distant.

When she finally sat, she pressed her palms into the mattress and lowered her head as shame settled quietly in her chest. Not for what had nearly happened... but for what she had felt.

Oh...

The scene played in her mind over and over again, impossible to ignore, dragging a breath away from her lips. What has she done?

The guilt ate her raw as she tried to stabilize the rapid rate of her heartbeat, which she felt might cause her ribs to crack.

Lucrezia tried to remind herself, again, of why she was here. Of what must be done. The warmth she had denied was a temptation, nothing more than a distraction she could not afford.

The thought of it seemed to settle the tremor slightly in her chest. And so Lucrezia lay back, staring into the darkness, letting the cold linger as penance, until at last exhaustion claimed her.