She gives it.
Soft, warm, pliant—then suddenly not. Her fingers fist the front of my shirt, and she kisses me back with a kind of urgency that unmoors me. There’s nothing tentative about it. No hesitation. Just pure, instinctive response. She’s meeting me beat for beat, breath for breath, like she’s been waiting for this—aching for it—without ever admitting it.
And me?
I’m drowning in it.
She feelsgood.Better than she should. Her mouth is heaven. Her body fits against mine like a question I’ve been trying not to ask. I can feel her chest rising against me, the ragged edge of her breath, the shudder that runs through her when I grip her waist harder than I should. My hands find her back. Then her hips as I edge her closer, backing her toward the nearest wall.
She goes willingly.
I pull her flush against me and kiss her like I mean it. She gasps when my hand slides up her thigh, just under the hem of that damn dress. I want—God, I want—but I force myself to take my time. I don’t rush. I just explore the delicate skin of her inner thigh. I enjoy the subtle shift of her hips into my hand and the way she whimpers—quiet and real—when I slip my fingers between her legs and under the line of her panties until I find her bare.
And wet.
Andtight.
So tight it stops me cold.
I freeze.
She shifts, hips twitching toward my hand, but I stay still, my breath jagged now.
“You…” I start, but my throat’s dry. I try again. “You have done this before, right?”
Her lashes flutter open. She doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t even look embarrassed.
She just whispers, “No.”
Everything inside me goes still.
I step back like I’ve been burned, yanking my hands off her body in an instant, even though every part of me is still screaming to take more. Her lips are kiss-bruised. Her hair’s half undone. She looks wrecked—and wanting.
And if I don’t stop, I’llruinher.
Not because I’d hurt her. But because she has no idea what she’s doing. And if we cross that line, she won’t walk away from it clean.
Neither will I.
She’s still breathing hard when she speaks. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” I say. And it’s the truth. “You dideverythingright.”
And that’s the problem.
I force myself to step back again. Put real space between us. My hands are already fists at my sides. My body is on fire, every nerve shot through with tension, and still, I don’t move toward her again.
“I shouldn’t have touched you,” I say quietly.
But we both know I will again.
And next time, I may not stop.
Chapter4
Sebastian
She’s deliberately trying to drive me insane.
