Amelia's quill hovered above the page, her thoughts tangled between the memory of Lucian's touch and the tantalizing idea that had just sparked in her mind. The candlelight flickered, casting long shadows across the room, but her thoughts were anything but dim. The intimacy she'd shared with Lucian was still fresh, a heady mix of pleasure and confusion that clouded her ability to focus on the task at hand.

She knew she had to write—Countess Khan expected a first draft, and her future depended on it. But as she described her heroine's encounter with a mysterious, ethereally beautiful man—his dark, penetrating eyes, the way his voice seemed to wrap around her like a silk ribbon—her mind wandered back to Lucian.

A low, amused chuckle came from behind her, and she jumped, nearly smudging the ink. Lucian was lounging on the chaise longue, his long legs stretched out, his head propped up on one hand as he watched her with that ever-present, devilish grin.

As if summoned by her thoughts, Lucian's voice, deep and laced with amusement, echoed from behind her. "You seem... distracted, angel."

Amelia stiffened, her grip on the pen tightening as she forced herself to remain calm. "I'm working, Lucian. Shouldn't you be elsewhere, tormenting someone else?"

Lucian chuckled, a low, velvety sound that sent a shiver down her spine. "But why would I leave when the entertainment is right here? Besides, you know I can't resist watching you struggle."

She sighed, refusing to turn and face him. "I'm not struggling. I'm writing."

"Ah, so you say." His voice drew closer, each word a featherlight caress against her skin. "But it seems you're having a bit of trouble getting your heroine to behave, aren't you? Perhaps she's a bit too enamoured with the dark, mysterious man in her story—though I must say, he sounds quite familiar."

She felt him behind her, his presence like a storm cloud ready to break. Amelia gritted her teeth and dipped her pen in ink, determined to ignore him. "You're interrupting my work."

"Am I?" Lucian murmured, leaning over her shoulder to glance at the words she had scrawled on the page. His breath was warm against her neck, sending another wave of heat through her. "Or am I your muse? After all, it's my beauty, my power that you're trying to capture. But be careful, my angel—women might be disappointed when they realize no mere man could ever compare."

His words were laced with arrogance, but also a dark truth that made Amelia's pulse quicken. She was tempted to throw down her pen, to let herself fall into his arms and forget all about her writing, her deadlines, her future. But she couldn't afford that indulgence, not now.

She finally turned to face him, meeting his gaze with all the defiance she could muster. "I'm creating an escape for them, Lucian. Reality for a woman in this society is stifling. Either you get married and become a mother or die a penniless spinster. My stories give them a taste of freedom, of passion unrestrained."

"Freedom?" Lucian's lips curved into a wicked smile as he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "But what if the freedom you offer is tainted by the knowledge that no real man could ever measure up to the supernatural allure of a demon? Isn't there a danger that your readers will be disillusioned, feeling their own lovers are mere shadows compared to the demonic fantasy you've penned?"

He was close now, too close. Amelia could feel the heat of his body, smell the intoxicating mix of spice and something darker, more dangerous. Every fibre of her being urged her to give in, to let him sweep her away as he had before.

"You're wrong," she said, though her voice was weaker than she intended. "It's a fantasy. It's meant to be an ideal, a dream. Women deserve a chance to envision a world where they are in control, where they can indulge in their desires without judgment. If that means creating a lover who surpasses the ordinary, then so be it."

Lucian's eyes gleamed with dark amusement as he leaned in closer, his voice a seductive whisper. "And yet, you are still constrained by the notion that the lover must be a man."

Amelia stiffened, his words confusing her. "Are you suggesting I make the lover a woman?"

"Yes," he purred, his hand trailing down her arm, sending sparks of sensation in its wake. "Imagine the forbidden allure of two women desiring each other, their passion unconfined by the expectations of society. I could show you how such a connection feels, how it ignites the senses in ways you might never have imagined."

Amelia's breath quickened, her resolve wavering as she felt herself being pulled under, into the storm that was Lucian. "Does such a relationship exist?"

"Of course," Lucian chuckled as he swept her ginger locks aside. "If two men can desire each other, so can two women. I've seen it many times." His lips brushed against her ear, his breath warm against her skin as he whispered the forbidden temptations that danced on the edge of her consciousness. "In Greece, during the Qing dynasty in China, even at Versailles."

"At Versailles?" Amelia said, pulling away to look him in the eye.

Lucian's smile widened, his eyes darkening with a mixture of admiration and something more sinister. "Yes, angel. In the grand courts of France, I've seen the most passionate relationships between women. They knew what to do under those skirts."

Amelia's resolve wavered as she considered his words. The idea was provocative, tantalizing. Depicting a forbidden romance between women, free from the constraints of their era, was both revolutionary and deeply appealing.

"And you," Amelia said, trying to maintain her composure, "you would show me this—forbidden romance?"

Lucian's gaze was intense, his eyes locked onto hers. "Yes. I would be more than willing to provide a demonstration. Shall I change my appearance?"

"No," Amelia cried out before she realised how loud she was. "Can you do it as–you know–yourself?"

"Amelia, I can do anything."

Before she could react, Lucian's hands were on her, pushing her back into the chair as he sank to his knees. His lips hovered inches from hers, the heat between them palpable. Amelia's breath caught, her heart pounding in her chest as she fought the urge to close the distance, to surrender to the inferno he ignited within her. But Lucian pulled away as his hands hiked up her skirt. "Don't forget to take notes, angel."

She scrambled for the quill, her heartbeat hammering in her chest as she saw how this gorgeous demon slowly dragged himself lower, between her legs. Gently, he grabbed her hips and pulled her towards him, his eyes never leaving hers.

Amelia swallowed hard, unable to hold Lucian's gaze any longer. The memory of their last encounter was still so vivid, a tantalizing reminder of the pleasure he could bring, the way he made her feel alive, powerful.

The kisses Lucian placed on her inner thigh came ever closer to her centre, but not close enough. And yet, close enough to make her feel so exposed. There was something so enticing about the longer process, lighter touches and far more intimate position. Amelia felt his breath ghost across her womanhood and gasped. She tried to close her leg, but Lucian was quicker and stronger. He held her knees open, pushed against the armrests and disappeared under her skirts again with a devilish smirk.