Her hands fell away like he'd slapped her. She stepped back, wrapped her arms around herself—trying to hold in the tremor, trying to ignore the way her soaked panties clung to her swollen folds, the way her clit pulsed with every heartbeat.
"Ms. Chen," he said quietly, voice low and velvet—a warning wrapped in silk, promising pleasure and ruin.
"You have beautiful eyes," she whispered, desperate deflection, her gaze dropping to his mouth, lingering on his lips as her own parted on a shaky breath. "I mean—you have kind eyes. Dangerous eyes. Both."
"Both," he agreed, voice dropping deeper, eyes darkening as they traced her face, her throat, the stiff peaks of her nipples straining against her top.
The word hung between them. Confirmation. Acknowledgment that they both knew this was lust—raw, forbidden, unstoppable.
"I should let go of you," she said, voice trembling.
"You should."
