Too Lazy to be a Villainess novel Chapter 291

Chapter 291: Of Fire, Flesh, and Kingdoms

[Lavinia’s POV — Continuation — Lavinia’s Office]

I stayed close to Osric’s chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat echoing beneath my ear. His fingers traced lazy circles along my hands, each touch gentle enough to melt the air around us. We didn’t speak—words would’ve only shattered the fragile peace his warmth had built.

My heart wasn’t just beating; it was thundering. When he tilted my chin upward again, his eyes were darker, filled with something that made it hard to breathe.

"Again?" I whispered.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he took my hand and pressed it to his chest. "We had a huge fight, Lavi," he murmured. "A mere kiss won’t be enough to calm me."

Before I could form a reply, his lips met mine again—not softly this time, but with deliberate intent. The kiss was hungry, searching, and desperate in the way only forgiveness and longing could be. His hand cupped my jaw, thumb brushing along my cheek, tender at first, then firmer—grounding me and unraveling me all at once.

My fingers clutched at his collar, trying to steady the rush inside me. His lips trailed to the corner of my jaw, drawing fire with every breath he stole.

"Osric..." I whispered, the word trembling between us.

He hummed against my skin, low and rough. "You still tremble when I touch you," he said, voice dark with affection.

"Because you never touch softly," I breathed.

A quiet laugh escaped him. "You always know how to drive me mad, Lavi."

His gaze was molten, far too hungry for words. A reckless spark lit inside me. I met that fire with a smirk, my legs dangling at both sides as I shifted onto his lap as I whispered, "Then let’s go mad together, my love."

His breath hitched—just enough to satisfy my pride. "As you command, Your Highness," he smirked, voice rough with devotion and desire.

Our lips crashed again, the kiss fierce and consuming. It wasn’t born of anger or apology anymore; it was the meeting of two storms, fierce but seeking peace in the same lightning strike. His hands found my waist, pulling me closer until our hearts beat in one impossible rhythm.

He tilted his head, letting his lips wander to the curve of my throat—a trail of warmth that made my pulse race faster than reason could follow. I felt the tremor in his breath, the way his control wavered beneath the weight of everything left unspoken.

"You’re such a beast..." I whispered, half warning, half plea.

"Only when it comes to you, your highness."

Then he paused, forehead resting against my shoulder. "If I go further," he said quietly, "I won’t stop."

I smiled, brushing my thumb along his jaw. "I never ordered you to stop, Grand duke."

For a moment, he simply looked at me—that raw, unguarded look that stripped away titles, crowns, and walls. Then, as if words were too small for what he felt, he leaned forward, his lips brushing against the curve of my neck.

The kiss was slow and reverent—a whisper of warmth that made my breath falter. His touch wasn’t demanding this time; it was a promise, a confession only I was meant to hear.

My hand moved to his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands as I closed my eyes. Every breath he left against my skin felt like fire and gentleness woven together—enough to make the world disappear, if only for a heartbeat.

He drew me closer, his hands steady at my waist, keeping me near as if the daylight itself might steal me away. He nibbled, leaving deliberate marks on my neck as if he wanted to declare to the world...that I am his.

Meanwhile, his other hand traced the edge of my gown, his touch skimming lightly on my thighs along the fabric, close enough to make my pulse stumble.

And in that moment, I didn’t stop him, nor did I wish to stop.

The world outside the office faded until there was only the warmth between us, the sound of our breathing, and the fierce rhythm of two hearts that finally found the same beat. Everything else—crowns, duties, words—fell away. There was only us, lost in the golden hush of daylight, holding on as if the universe might end if we let go.

***

[Later—Lavinia’s Office]

I lay stretched across Osric’s lap, his shirt half-buttoned and his breath still uneven. His fingers combed gently through my hair, each stroke unhurried, as if he never wanted the moment to end.

His eyes shone—soft, bright, like someone who had just seen a thousand shooting stars and somehow had all his wishes granted at once. He caught my hand, pressed it against his cheek, and sighed contentedly. Right now, he looked less like the Empire’s most feared Grand duke and more like an oversized, adoring puppy.

I chuckled. "So," I murmured, tracing the line of his jaw, "when’s the coronation ceremony? The one where you officially become Grand Duke and Grand Duke Regis retires?"

He smiled, eyes half-lidded. "Probably next month. Father and Grandfather want to make it grand. I think Father plans to announce our engagement that day, too."

My lips curved. "He’s far too excited."

Osric gave me a deadpan look. "Of course he is. The father is practically glowing—after all, you’re about to become his daughter-in-law."

I snorted. "Well, at least someone in this family has a sense of enthusiasm."

He arched a brow. "Meaning I don’t?"

"I AM READY!" he blurted before I could finish.

. . .

. . .

I tilted my head, smirking like the devil itself. "Is that because you’re turning into an old man soon?"

He squinted at me, pretending to glare but unable to stop the faint smile tugging at his lips. "Careful, your highness. I might just prove to you how young I still am."

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