Chapter 964

Without warning, Lucian's nose began to bleed.

Rosalind gasped, pointing at his face. "You're bleeding!"

Lucian seemed oblivious until her exclamation. He touched his upper lip—his fingertips came away stained crimson.

It was unmistakable.

A nosebleed.

For a heartbeat, Lucian stood frozen before bolting to the bathroom. The sound of running water soon followed.

Rosalind bit back a laugh, her shoulders shaking with suppressed amusement. He'd claimed to feel nothing, yet here he was, nose bleeding from sheer arousal.

Oh, she'd never let him live this down.

Smoothing her silk nightgown, Rosalind slid off the bed and sauntered to the bathroom doorway.

Lucian stood at the marble sink, his broad shoulders taut as he splashed icy water onto his flushed face.

Leaning against the doorframe, Rosalind smirked. "What caused this sudden hemorrhage? Dry air? Or perhaps... overheating?"

The teasing lilt in her voice was unmistakable. Lucian knew she was mocking him, yet he couldn't refute it. He could control his words, but his body betrayed him.

Overstimulation had literally made his nose bleed.

Rosalind's laughter bubbled up again. "I always suspected your mouth was the hardest part of you."

Lucian shut off the faucet and turned. His darkened gaze locked onto her smug smile. "Don't you know where the hardest part of me actually is?"

It took Rosalind three full seconds to comprehend his meaning. Her grin faltered.

He closed the distance between them in one stride, crowding her against the doorframe. "Find this amusing? Should I demonstrate exactly which part of me is hardest?"

The air between them crackled with tension.

A shiver ran down Rosalind's spine—yet instead of retreating, she stepped forward. Their bodies pressed together, separated only by thin layers of fabric.

Man and woman. Hard and soft. Both thrumming with barely restrained desire.

She arched a delicate brow. "By all means. I'm dying to see this legendary hardness for myself."

Lucian's expression darkened.

Rosalind lifted a pale hand to his chest. Beneath her palm, she felt the rapid thud of his heart, the tension in his muscles as he fought for control.

Her fingers trailed downward over sculpted abs. "Is this the part you meant?"

They reached his taut waistline, hooking into his belt.

With a sharp tug, she pulled him flush against her.

Lucian caught her wrist just as her hand brushed lower. His grip was iron.

Rosalind tilted her head up, challenge glittering in her eyes. "Problem? Losing your nerve?"

His answer came in the form of a searing kiss—one that stole her breath and left her dizzy.

Who did she think she was provoking?

Didn't she realize how dangerous this game was?

He was a healthy, red-blooded man. How much restraint did she expect him to have?

She was pregnant, for God's sake. He'd been exercising perfect control—until she started this reckless teasing.

Rosalind pushed against his chest, but Lucian didn't budge.

Finally, she surrendered, winding her arms around his neck and kissing him back with equal fervor.

There in the bathroom, they lost themselves in each other—lips locked, breaths mingling, the wet sound of their passion echoing off marble walls. Neither held back, pouring every ounce of pent-up longing into that kiss.