Chapter 9: The Tension Between Us
1078 Words
Another kiss?
Ignoring Charles’s increasingly frequent habit of stealing kisses, Su Beitang firmly grabbed his hand as it caressed her cheek, pulling it away.
“Are you really just going to let her be?”
Charles paused, his gaze intent as he studied her deep, crimson eyes, searching for a hint of emotion he desired.
“Is this…concern, Madam?” His low, smoky voice held a hint of seduction.
His left hand slipped from her grasp, fingers tracing along her palm, brushing gently up her hand until their fingers intertwined.
The warmth of his touch sent an involuntary shiver through her, and she frowned slightly, baffled as he leaned in closer.
All she’d meant was a casual question, given her status as his “official wife”—what did that have to do with concern?
Su Beitang’s gaze met his.
In the light of the crystal chandelier above, his golden eyes held a dazzling brilliance, a reflection of starlit skies. And in those boundless depths, she saw herself mirrored, captured within his stare.
Caught in his gaze, her mind went blank. She averted her eyes hastily, her gaze traveling down his flawless profile to his slightly flushed, enticing lips.
Charles’s gaze remained locked on hers, and seeing her eyes drift to his lips, his own mouth curved into a knowing smile, his tone lilting and coaxing.
“Madam, would you like to try?” he whispered, leaning closer still.
Before she could process what he had just said, his left hand caressed her face, fingertips trailing softly along her skin before sliding down to rest under her chin.
“Do you want to kiss me?” he murmured, his breath carrying that intoxicating scent of roses, winding around her senses like vines claiming every inch of her awareness.
His thumb brushed against her soft lips, gliding slowly, deliberately. The feel of her skin beneath his fingers stirred something within him, and he leaned in until only a sliver of space remained between them.
He looked at her lips intently, longing for her to take the initiative.
But Su Beitang seemed dazed, her eyes clouded with confusion as they met his.
“Do you want to?” he asked again.
It was as much a question for her as for himself.
Her lips, reddened under his touch, drew his focus, and he swallowed hard, struggling to resist the impulse to close that final distance.
Everyone outside thought of Duke Laeston as someone who avoided women.
But only Charles knew the truth: it wasn’t avoidance—it was waiting. Waiting for the one who would pull him irresistibly closer.
And now, he feared he was already too far gone.
His mind and body both ached for her touch, that connection that would soothe his spirit.
As Su Beitang watched him, taking in the graceful curve of his face, the rich fragrance of roses filling her senses, she had to admit that Duke Laeston’s face was almost otherworldly in its allure.
Even her strongest defenses faltered under his relentless proximity and subtle seduction.
She wanted to maintain a safe distance, a boundary.
But as he advanced, she felt her resolve crumble like a defeated soldier surrendering, letting him in.
His final “Do you want to?” felt like a blade severing her last thread of restraint, like rain piercing still waters, sending ripples across a once-placid lake, a tremor before the tidal wave.
Something unfamiliar spread within her, and she found herself lifting her hand, moving his fingers from her lips.
Then, as if possessed, she reached up, cupping his face, and seeing the brief flicker of disappointment cross his eyes, she leaned in and kissed him.
Charles, caught off guard, closed his eyes slowly, parting his lips, surrendering to her exploration.
Su Beitang wasn’t skilled at kissing.
As she lost herself, the taste of coppery blood struck her senses, snapping her back to reality. She released him, realizing that her teeth had nicked his lip.
At the end of their kiss, his lips were redder than ever.
As he smiled, the sight of his lips, now smeared with a hint of crimson, doused any lingering desire within her.
“Sorry…” she murmured, seeing the faint cut she’d left on his lip.
But Charles’s response wasn’t to say it was fine—it was to press a firm hand against the back of her neck and pull her into an even fiercer kiss.
His hand found the back of her neck, fingers brushing against her glands, and Su Beitang braced herself, fearing he might lose control and bite her as he had before.
But he seemed lost in the kiss, showing no signs of an imminent loss of control. His hand rested on her neck, steady but gentle, merely holding her in place.
“Madam, I’ve added a few sweeteners to the spirit-repair potion. Would you like to give it a try…”
Quinwen entered the library with a collection of potions in hand, his arrival breaking the moment.
Su Beitang heard someone approaching and quickly pushed Charles away.
Momentarily disoriented by the interruption, Charles tried to lean back in, but she blocked him with her hand once more.
Seeing no alternative, the Duke turned his attention to the unwelcome visitor.
Quinwen, having asked Jannie about Su Beitang’s whereabouts, had assumed he’d find her alone and was not expecting the Duke himself to be there.
Or that they would be… so close.
Awkwardly, Quinwen turned to leave, but Charles’s voice stopped him.
“Quinwen.”
The low, toneless call sent chills down Quinwen’s spine.
He knew the Duke was about to lose his temper.
He forced himself to turn back, staring down at his shoes.
“Your Grace?”
“You came to let Madam taste-test your potion, didn’t you? Well, get over here,” Charles commanded, waving a hand to clear the documents from the desk.
Quinwen had no choice but to steady himself, gripping the potions tightly as he entered the rose-scented library.
Charles cleared a space on the desk, moving aside to allow Quinwen room to work.
Since he was a head shorter than Charles, he kept his gaze down, determined not to meet his master’s eyes.
“Good afternoon, Madam.” Quinwen offered Su Beitang a nervous smile.
“Good afternoon,” she replied.
Almost immediately, Charles’s calm but pointed voice broke the brief pleasantries.
“The potion,” he said, urging him on.
- Writer
