stiff

Aurora’s brows knit together, her gaze momentarily losing focus, lost in thought. I watch every slight movement she makes, each one feeding the fire burning beneath my skin.

She’s still chewing on that goddamn lip.

A sharp shiver rolls down my spine as her fingers absentmindedly rake through my hair, nails scraping lightly against my scalp. The sensation is brief but electric, sending a dangerous heat pooling low in my stomach.

She doesn’t realize what she does to me.

I should stop. Should put some distance between us before I lose all sense of control. But then she exhales, soft and unsteady, and my restraint snaps.

I dive forward, capturing that glistening bottom lip between my own.

Aurora stills. For a heartbeat, I think she’ll push me away, but then her lips part in silent surrender. I coax her deeper, savoring the warm, tentative press of her mouth against mine.

She melts in my arms.

A low, unbidden groan rumbles from my chest when she winds her arms around my neck, pulling me closer. The delicious friction of her body pressed against mine turns my thoughts to nothing but hazy, unfiltered need.

The way she responds—breath hitching, fingers trembling slightly against my skin—only fuels my hunger.

I want more.

But then, just as suddenly as she gave in, she stiffens. Her hands press against my chest, a hesitant barrier between us. Her breath is uneven, chest rising and falling rapidly, but her eyes—those stormy, conflicted eyes—are locked onto mine.

“Too fast,” she whispers, voice barely above a breath. “I—I can’t…”

I don’t move, letting her decide.

Her fingers curl slightly in my shirt as if she’s reluctant to break the moment entirely. But after another second, she shakes her head, stepping back. I don’t stop her.

I force my breathing to even out, dragging a hand through my hair as I take a deliberate step back. “Alright,” I murmur, voice rougher than I intend. “I hear you.”

Aurora nods, wrapping her arms around herself as if shielding against the lingering heat between us.

She won’t meet my eyes.

A bitter sort of amusement curls in my chest. For all her sharp words and guarded looks, she’s not immune to me. Not as much as she wants to be.

The engine rumbles to life as I slide behind the wheel, gripping it a little tighter than necessary.

The drive is silent.

She stares out the window, lost in thought. I don’t push.

When we finally pull up to her house, I kill the engine and turn to her. She hesitates, fingers hovering over the door handle as if gathering her thoughts.

Then, in a near-whisper, she says, “I’ve never been kissed before.”

My brows lift slightly.

Not what I was expecting.

I study her, the way she keeps her face turned slightly away as if the admission is something to be ashamed of. As if I’d tease her for it.

“That so?” I murmur.

She nods once, shoulders taut.

I shift closer, letting the air between us grow thick again, but I don’t touch her. Not yet.

“Well,” I say lowly, “that’s a damn shame.”

Her head snaps up, eyes narrowing. “Lucian—”

I smirk. “Relax, Aurora. I’m not going to bend you over the hood of your car.” I reach out, twirling a lock of her hair around my fingers, enjoying the way she shudders. “I plan to take my time with you.”

Her breath hitches.

I could kiss her again—claim her completely, watch her unravel beneath me.

But I don’t.

Instead, I release her, leaning back. “Go inside.”

She hesitates. I almost think she’ll stay. But then she lets out a quiet breath and slips out of the car, shutting the door without looking back.

I watch her disappear inside.

Then, with a slow exhale, I drag a hand over my face and start the car again.

This isn’t over.

Not by a long shot.

Aurora barely has a moment to breathe before the whirlwind begins.

“Get a room, you two. The house is full of them!”

Lucian’s sister stands at the entrance, a striking woman with flowing dark curls, dark eyes alight with mischief. She leans casually against the doorjamb, arms crossed as she takes in the sight of them.

Aurora stiffens instinctively, feeling Lucian’s warm, steady hand on hers. He doesn’t let go. If anything, his grip tightens just enough to remind her of their unspoken agreement—play along.

“I left the city the moment Nico let slip that there might be a wedding to plan,” the woman declares, eyes flicking between the two of them with barely contained excitement. “Tell me it’s true.”

Lucian sighs, his voice laced with feigned exasperation. “Giulia—”

“Has my grumpy brother finally chosen a bride?” she interrupts, practically vibrating with energy.

Aurora swallows, casting a quick glance at Lucian, who, for once, doesn’t rush to answer. She exhales slowly, then offers a careful nod. “Yes, um, we are… getting married.”

Giulia lets out a squeal of delight and, before Aurora can react, launches herself forward, pulling her into a rib-crushing hug. She smells like vanilla and something faintly floral, warm and inviting, and it’s almost disorienting how quickly she embraces her.

When Giulia finally steps back, she’s grinning from ear to ear. “This is going to be so much fun! We have so much to do. Have you set a date?”

Aurora hesitates. A date? She opens her mouth, but Lucian beats her to it.

“A week from Sunday.”

Silence. Then—

Giulia gasps, eyes as round as saucers. “That’s only ten days away!” She clutches Aurora’s hand as if she’s the one needing steadying. “How are we supposed to pull together an epic wedding in that time?”

Lucian smirks, rubbing slow, deliberate circles on Aurora’s back, as if enjoying the spectacle. “I trust you can do it.”

Giulia gapes at him like he’s sprouted a second head, but before she can object further, she turns to Aurora with renewed excitement. “You poor thing, you’re probably overwhelmed! Come on, let’s get inside. We have so much to discuss.”

Aurora barely gets a moment to process before she’s being towed into the house, Giulia’s rapid chatter about flowers and dresses filling the space between them.

Lucian strolls alongside them, amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. As they reach the dining room, he leans down, pressing a brief kiss to Aurora’s temple. “I just can’t wait any longer for the beautiful Aurora to be my wife.”

Aurora stiffens, her breath catching slightly. The words are smooth, practiced, but something in his tone makes the air feel heavier. She doesn’t have time to dwell on it, though, because Giulia practically drags her into a chair at the long dining table.

“You two are adorable,” she sighs, clasping her hands together. “But we have to get started right away. Chiara!” she calls toward the kitchen. “We’d like lunch soon, please!”

Aurora watches, dazed, as the room hums with motion. She still can’t believe how quickly everything is moving.

Lucian settles beside her, relaxed and confident, though there’s a sharpness in his eyes. He turns to her with a gaze that looks almost nostalgic, as if reminiscing about some grand romance.

“So,” Giulia prods, resting her elbows on the table. “Where did you two meet?”

Aurora hesitates, but Lucian—ever the strategist—takes over effortlessly. “We met when I was visiting her father.” He pauses, smirking as he glances at Aurora. “She had no idea who I was and, well… let’s just say she wasn’t exactly welcoming.”

Giulia’s eyes widen in delight. “No!”

“Oh, yes,” Lucian muses, stroking Aurora’s knuckles with his thumb. “Told me to fuck off before I even introduced myself.”

Aurora’s cheeks heat, and she fights the urge to glare at him. Instead, she forces a coy smile. “I had no idea I was sassing the great Lucian.”

Giulia bursts into laughter, clapping her hands. “I wish I could’ve seen the look on his face!”

Lucian sighs dramatically, as if wounded. “I knew then and there I had to win her over, if it was the last thing I did.”

The conversation flows easily, and despite herself, Aurora finds her lips curving into something almost genuine.

Lucian eventually excuses himself, pressing another featherlight kiss to her temple before departing. Giulia watches him go, then turns back to Aurora with a knowing look.

“Jesus,” she exhales. “He looks at you like he wants to eat you.”

Aurora lets out a breathy laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

Lunch blends into dinner, and before Aurora knows it, the day has slipped away. Giulia is easy company, talking passionately about art, her dream of one day opening a gallery, and the strange duality of her life between the family compound and her apartment in the city.

“I know we’ve just met,” Giulia says softly, reaching across the table to take Aurora’s hand. “But I hope there will come a time when you feel like you can share your real story with me.”

Aurora hesitates, her throat tightening.

“I know the haunted look of someone with a past,” Giulia continues. “It’s common in the life we lead.”

Aurora exhales slowly, fingers curling slightly around Giulia’s. She doesn’t respond—not directly—but she doesn’t pull away either.

Giulia nods, as if she understands anyway.

By the time Aurora collapses into bed that evening, exhaustion weighs heavy in her bones. The day has been a whirlwind of planning, pretending, and navigating the ever-growing web of Lucian’s world.

She barely has time to process before sleep drags her under.

For the first time in weeks, the nightmares stay at bay.