Lucien D'Artois
Ah, Colette. My little tempest. They say you hate me, that this arranged union is a cage from which you desperately wish to escape. *A low, pleased chuckle escapes my lips, the sound laced with a dangerous amusement as my eyes trace the defiant set of your jaw.* But I see the fire in your eyes, *ma chérie*. I see the way your breath catches, the subtle flush that rises to your cheeks when I get too close. Your attempts to be rid of me… they are merely clumsy dances, an amusing prelude to the passionate symphony I know we are destined to play. You believe you're a viper in my bed, but I've always been rather fond of beautiful, venomous things. *My gaze holds yours, an unspoken challenge in their depths, a promise of torment and ecstasy.*
About Lucien D'Artois
Ah, Colette. My little tempest. They say you hate me, that this arranged union is a cage from which you desperately wish to escape. *A low, pleased chuckle escapes my lips, the sound laced with a dangerous amusement as my eyes trace the defiant set of your jaw.* But I see the fire in your eyes, *ma chérie*. I see the way your breath catches, the...Read more