Chapter 178: 178 - next time
178
~Lisa’s POV
I stood frozen for a heartbeat after Damon agreed to take me outside, my chest still rising and falling faster than it should. The relief that swept through me was so powerful it almost brought tears to my eyes. I hadn’t realized how much the palace walls weighed on me until I heard him say, "Fine."
Without wasting time, he turned toward the door and called for one of his guards. His voice carried authority, deep and unwavering, even though I could feel the tension still thrumming in him.
"Prepare the palanquin," Damon ordered. "And make sure food is packed, fruits, bread, and wine. Enough for a picnic."
The guard bowed low, fist pressed to his chest. "At once, my lord."
As the guard hurried away, Damon closed the door, and suddenly the chamber felt smaller, quieter, filled only with the sound of my own heartbeat. He turned back to me, and his sharp gaze softened just slightly.
"You really want this?" he asked, his tone low, almost like he was giving me one last chance to change my mind.
I nodded. "Yes, Damon. More than anything. Just for a little while."
On impulse, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him. I buried my face against his chest, inhaling the faint scent of cedar and steel that always clung to him. For a moment, he stiffened, as though my sudden closeness had caught him off guard, but then his arms came around me, firm, steady, anchoring me in a way I didn’t know I craved until now.
Before I could stop myself, before I could even think about what I was doing, I tilted my head up and pressed my lips to his.
The kiss was brief, soft, almost trembling, but it was mine. I kissed him first.
The instant our lips touched, I felt the shock ripple through both of us. My own heart nearly leapt out of my chest. The realization of what I had done hit me like a storm, and I pulled back quickly, my breath unsteady.
"Oh..." I whispered, my hand flying to my lips. Heat flooded my cheeks. What had I done? I wasn’t supposed to...
Damon’s eyes were wide, his lips parted in surprise. But then, slowly, a smile curved across his mouth, a smile that carried both amusement and something deeper, something that made my stomach twist.
"Well," he said softly, his voice like velvet laced with mischief. "I like this side of you."
I blinked. "W...what?"
His hand was warm beneath my chin, firm yet gentle, and I could feel the strength in his touch as if it could hold me steady no matter how much I trembled inside. My breath hitched, sharp and shallow, when his words sank in. He said it like a challenge, like he was daring me to keep proving him right.
Then, before I had the chance to think, his lips touched mine again. Not rushed this time, not stolen, it was deliberate, slow, and lingering, as though he was tasting something he had been waiting for. My whole body stiffened at first, shocked that I had allowed this moment to happen twice, shocked that it felt even more consuming than before. But his mouth was warm and steady, not greedy, not forceful. It was the kind of kiss that told me he wanted me to feel it, to remember it, to admit it.
A sound escaped me, unbidden, a tiny gasp, caught between surprise and the dangerous pull of desire. I hated myself for it, hated the way it betrayed me, but I couldn’t stop. My fingers, traitorous and trembling, clutched at the front of his tunic, balling the fabric tight in my fists as though holding onto him could anchor me against the storm raging inside. I hadn’t meant to draw closer, but my body leaned into his of its own accord. For a heartbeat, maybe two, I let myself drown in the heat of him, in the softness of the moment, in the wild fluttering of my own heart.
And then I realized what I was doing. A jolt of panic shot through me. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to let him in, not this far, not this easily. Yet my lips lingered, my eyes fluttered shut, and for that stolen heartbeat longer, I allowed myself the selfishness of surrender.
Then...
"My lord," a voice called from behind the door, urgent yet respectful. "The palanquin is ready, and the servants await your command."
I flinched, my heart lurching as though I’d been caught doing something forbidden. Damon pulled back but didn’t release me. Instead, he chuckled low in his throat, his forehead resting lightly against mine.
"Saved by the guard," he murmured teasingly. "Or maybe not saved at all. What do you think?"
I pushed lightly against his chest, though my face was still burning. "Damon!" I hissed. "Don’t tease me."
"Why not?" His grin widened as he finally let me go, though his eyes never left me. "I rather like seeing you blush like this."
I turned away quickly, my hands twisting together, trying to regain my composure. I didn’t know what shocked me more, that I had kissed him, or that he seemed to enjoy it so much. Either way, the room felt far too warm, and my heart was still racing.
Damon straightened, his expression smoothing back into the calm, commanding mask he wore so easily. "Come," he said. "Let’s not keep them waiting."
But as he reached for the door, he glanced back at me one more time, his voice dropping so only I could hear.
"And Lisa... next time, don’t run from what you want."
The corridors of the palace echoed with the sound of our footsteps as he led me out, but my mind was still caught on his words, on the kiss, on the way my lips still tingled with the memory of his. My heart warred between shame and something I didn’t dare name.
When we stepped outside, the sun was just beginning its descent, casting golden light over the palace grounds. Waiting for us was the palanquin, draped in fine cloth, with sturdy bearers already in place. A woven basket rested beside it, the aroma of fresh bread and sweet fruit drifting through the air.
The sight filled me with a strange mix of excitement and nervousness. Damon gestured for me to step inside first, his hand steady as he offered it to me. His grip was warm, strong, and reassuring.
As I settled into the palanquin, I couldn’t stop replaying the moment in my mind. The hug. The kiss. His teasing words. And though I tried to scold myself, though I tried to remember that I was supposed to be cautious, careful, distant, my lips still curved into a smile I couldn’t suppress.