~Aria's POV~
Lucien hesitated, then leaned forward. His movement was slow, his eyes never leaving mine. He pressed a kiss to my forehead that felt like a seal of surrender. It was warm, lingering, and smelled of the expensive sandalwood soap he always used. When he pulled back, his silver eyes were soft, almost dazed.
I didn't give him time to recover. I tore a square of tape and slapped it right onto his chin.
"Zero-one," I whispered.
The next few minutes were a blur of movement and laughter. Lucien tried to be clinical about it, trying to predict my patterns as if I were a market trend. He lost...
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