Chapter 22 - Lust.

Regan studied Nora's features as they transformed into surprise. But suddenly, her pale blue eyes held a fiery determination. In a move that astounded him, she closed the distance between them, her hands gently encircling his neck, pulling him closer, crushing her lips on his.

Her lips were soft and well-nigh as they moved against his, yet he sensed a hint of hesitation in her movements. It was clear in the way she cautiously responded that she was inexperienced. He took the lead, raising his arm to tangle his fingers in her hair, tilting her head back slightly. He kissed her slowly, guiding her on how to move her lips. At first, her lips trembled, but gradually, she synchronized her movements with his.

Their kiss grew more intense, a mix of desire and tenderness. It teased her with promises, making her body tingle with awareness. His hand caressed her body, sending shivers down her spine. He held her closely, feeling her heartbeat against his chest. His fingers traced her back and tangled in her hair, deepening the pleasure of their kiss. She couldn't help but let out a soft moan, and at that moment, his control shattered like fragile glass.

His grip on her waist grew firm, pulling her body flush against his own until there was no gap left between them. He wanted her naked. He longed to caress every inch of her body. The sight of her clothes only fueled his frustration. He wanted them off, to feel her naked body quivered beneath his. He yearned to leave his mark on her bare skin and lose himself inside of her.

She was tormenting him, driving him to the edge of desire with the touch of her lips upon his own, igniting a fire within him that threatened to consume his every thought and restraint.

As desire consumed him, a haze of lust clouded his vision. The beast within him began to stir. His nails elongated into sharp claws, and his canines protruded, revealing his inner nature. He quickly released her and took several trembling steps backward, desperately trying to regain control over himself.

"Regan, are you okay?" she stepped forward. He mustered the strength to meet her gaze, and he felt a heavy weight on his chest when he saw the blood staining her lips. He had unintentionally bruised her with his teeth, and now she must have been frightened of him. But when he looked into her eyes, all he saw was concern. What was she concerned about?

"Yes, I'm fine," he replied, despite the fact that he was still trembling uncontrollably. She took another step closer and gently placed the back of her palm against his neck.

"You're burning, are you sick?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine concern. He understood how stubborn and persistent she could be; she wouldn't let him go without doing anything. And he didn't want to scare her even more. His canines had returned to its normal state, but his nails remained elongated.

"I'm... I'm fine, Nora," he tried to convince her, his voice betraying his trembling state.

"No, you're not. You're shaking and burning..." she insisted, her worry deepening. "Wait here, I'll be back," she said and walked towards the bathroom.

He let out a sigh, and then opened the door, walking unsteadily out of the room and into his secret chamber. Closing the door behind him, he slumped onto a chair, his gaze fixated on his trembling hands. They had returned to their normal appearance, but the turmoil within him remained. He rested his head against the chair, contemplating what he had done to deserve such a fate in life. It wasn't a lie after all; he truly was cursed.

Burning? If only she knew that the fire within him wasn't due to sickness, but rather an intense longing for her. He wanted her so badly that it caused him physical and emotional pain.

****

As I returned to the room, Regan was no longer there. How could he have left when he was unwell? Angry and frustrated at myself, disappointed that he had left and, even when I told him to wait. I sank onto the bed, my mind filled with swirling thoughts.

Why had he suddenly fallen ill? He had seemed perfectly fine just before we kissed. 

The memory played vividly in my mind—the tight grip of his hand around my waist, the gentle caress of his fingers through my hair, the way his cold body pressed against mine followed by a sudden surge of heat and tingling sensations. His lips, soft yet firm, moved with mine until I was no longer breathing. He tasted like honey, a sweetness that left me craving for more. 

I was ready to do anything to prolong that moment. But then, the kiss began to falter. He began to tremble, and fear flickered in his compelling eyes. He distanced himself from me as if he were fighting a battle inside of him, restricting himself from doing something terrible.

I wondered if it had something to do with the kiss. I remembered when he had first kissed me by the river, the same thing had happened. It had to be connected, but why was him behaving that way?

I don't know, I felt sad and concern for him. I touched my lips, only to feel dull aches and noticed some bruises on my lips. It was during that moment when he lost control and became sloppy.

I drew a deep breath and lay down on the bed, restlessly tossing and turning, with different thought swirling in my head.

****

Morning arrived, and I slowly opened my eyes, taking in the room. Regan sat there, engrossed in a book. I couldn't help but wonder what was so interesting about it. He always seemed to have that book in his hands when he's in the room.

Struggling to sit up, I glanced at him when I felt his gaze on me. I looked away, a frown forming on my face, still hurt by his actions from the previous night.

"How was your night?" he asked, but I pretended not to hear.

He set the book down and focused his attention on me. "Nora," he called softly, using that tone that made my heart flutter. But I kept my expression unchanged. I wouldn't let it affect me.

"Are you angry at me?" he asked once again. When I still didn't respond, he let out a sigh. "I'm sorry for leaving last night. I just needed some time alone." The way he said "I'm sorry" sounded odd, as if it were something he rarely uttered.

"Apologies are just empty words. If they truly worked, there wouldn't be dungeons," I retorted.

He chuckled sarcastically. "I've finally met my match," he murmured. "What should I do to make my wife accept my apologies? Should I kiss her? Bathe her? Or maybe keep her in bed day and night?" He looked at me with a slight smirk on his lips.

A rush of heat flooded my cheeks. I would love for him to do all those things, but it would be absurd to admit it. And bathing me? The thought of him seeing my naked body made me cringe. I wouldn't feel comfortable, even though he was my husband.

"None of that," I replied, swiftly getting out of bed. He stood up and walked toward me, his eyes fixed on me. I panicked and stepped back until my back pressed against the wall. Then he was close, placing his hand on the wall above my head, trapping me with his body. My heart raced within my chest. The effect his closeness had on me was palatable. He looked down at me emotionlessly. "Say that again?"

I looked up, meeting his gaze, confusion clear in my stance. "Say what?"

"Say that you don't want me to do those things to you, Nora."

This felt like a trap.

"What will you do if I say it?" I challenged.

He smirked slightly, and he leaned in, getting closer until I could feel his warm breath on my face. "Then say it," he whispered and brush his lips on mine, causing me to shut my eyes closed. I thought he would kiss me on the lips, but he didn't. Instead, I felt his lips on my neck.