"Don't move," he murmured, voice low and rough against the night air.
Elena froze, her back pressed to the cold stone railing of the hotel balcony. Below, the city glittered in gold and silver, a sea of lights that seemed to pulse with her racing heart. Inside the ballroom, music and laughter flowed, but out here, everything was quiet, charged, forbidden.
She didn't need to turn to know who it was. That voice, deep, teasing, edged with danger, belonged to him. Adrian Cole. The man who wasn't supposed to be here. The man she'd been avoiding all evening.
"Adrian," she whispered, her throat tight. "You shouldn't."
"Be here?" He stepped closer, his breath brushing the back of her neck. "You say that every time, and yet…" His hand slid to her waist, fingers grazing the silk of her gown. "…you never walk away."
Elena's pulse thundered. The scent of him, expensive cologne, whiskey, and something darker,bwrapped around her, pulling her back to every stolen moment, every near-mistake that almost ruined them both.
"You'll get us caught," she breathed.
"Maybe that's what you want," he said, his lips ghosting over her ear. "Maybe that's why you keep coming out here."
She turned to face him, and the sight almost undid her, his black suit unbuttoned, tie hanging loose, eyes burning like he'd been holding back all night.
"Tell me to stop," he said, his voice rough. "And I will."
But she didn't. Couldn't. The words refused to come.
Instead, her fingers rose, tracing the edge of his jaw. "You never do," she whispered.
His control snapped. He caught her mouth with his, the kiss fierce and hungry. Her back hit the wall as his hands found her hips, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. The sound of the city drowned beneath the sound of their breath, ragged, desperate, aching.
"Do you have any idea," he murmured between kisses, "how long I've wanted to do this again?"
"Then don't talk," she gasped. "Show me."
He did. His mouth moved down her throat, tracing the delicate curve of her collarbone, leaving trails of heat that made her tremble. The silk of her gown shifted beneath his touch, slipping lower, baring skin that glowed under the moonlight.
Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deeper. Every brush of his lips felt like a confession, every sigh like a surrender.
"You drive me insane," he said against her skin. "Every time I see you in there, pretending you don't want me…"
She tilted her head back, her breath catching. "You think I don't?"
His laugh was soft, dangerous. "Then prove it."
She did, with a kiss that silenced them both, messy and breathless and alive. His hands explored her curves with slow reverence, tracing the places he'd memorized before, rediscovering them like a man starved.
The night air cooled their flushed skin, but neither of them cared. Somewhere inside, the orchestra reached its crescendo, violins crying through glass doors, and it felt almost poetic, the music rising with the rhythm of their bodies pressed together against the balcony wall.
"Say my name," he whispered, his lips brushing hers again.
"Adrian…"
It came out like a prayer, a plea, a confession.
He smiled, breathless. "That's all I needed."
The rest of the world ceased to exist. The lights, the noise, the risk, none of it mattered. Only the heat of his hands on her skin, the taste of him on her lips, the pulse that matched hers in perfect rhythm.
When it was over, they stood tangled in the dark, her dress rumpled, his shirt untucked, both of them trembling from more than just what had happened.
Adrian brushed a strand of hair from her face, his eyes softening. "You'll hate yourself for this tomorrow," he said quietly.
She gave a small, rueful smile. "Then I'll save the guilt for the morning."
He leaned in, kissed her one last time, slower, gentler, then stepped back into the shadows.
"Until next time, Elena."
And just like that, he was gone, leaving her breathless against the railing, the echo of his touch still burning on her skin as the city hummed below, unaware of the sin that had just unfolded above it.
Elena stayed there long after he left, the night wind brushing against her bare shoulders, her pulse still racing like the music hadn't stopped. The city below glimmered, endless and indifferent, but up here, she felt every beat of her own heart. Every mark he'd left on her skin.
Her hands trembled as she gripped the balcony railing, trying to steady herself. But the air still smelled like him, smoky and warm, and it made her ache in places she couldn't name.
She turned toward the ballroom doors. The laughter inside sounded distant, hollow. She should go back. Smile. Pretend nothing had happened. Pretend her lips weren't still swollen from his kiss.
But she couldn't move. Not yet.
Then, a sound. A footstep.
Her body tensed. She spun around, and there he was again.
Adrian.
He hadn't left after all. His jacket was gone now, his shirt even more undone, and that look, the one that stripped her bare with nothing but silence had returned.
"I thought you..."
"Left?" His smirk deepened. "I did. But then I realized something."
Her breath hitched. "What?"
He stepped close again, close enough for her to see the faint tremor in his jaw, the struggle he was losing all over again. "I wasn't finished."
Before she could speak, his hand caught her wrist, gentle but unyielding, pulling her back against him. His breath grazed her neck, sending a shiver spiraling down her spine.
"Adrian…" she whispered, though it came out more like a plea than a warning.
"Tell me to stop," he said again. "I dare you."
She didn't. Couldn't.
The second kiss was worse, deeper, hungrier. His hands tangled in her hair as he pressed her against the cold railing, the contrast between marble and heat making her gasp. The city's hum rose beneath them, the sound of traffic and life, but all she heard was him, his voice, his breath, his heart pounding hard against her chest.
"You're going to ruin me," she whispered between kisses.
He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. "Too late."
The words hit harder than she expected. There was no teasing now, just truth, raw and heavy, hanging between them like smoke.
When his lips found hers again, it wasn't just hunger anymore. It was something that scared her, something that felt like longing.
Her fingers brushed his jaw, feeling the stubble scratch her skin. "You shouldn't come back again," she said softly.
He smiled against her lips. "Then stop me."
And she didn't.
Instead, she kissed him again, desperate, defiant, tasting guilt and need all at once. It was madness, this thing between them, but it was theirs.
When they finally broke apart, breathless and undone, Adrian rested his forehead against hers. The faint hum of the city below filled the silence, the lights flickering like stars that had lost their way.
"Elena," he murmured, his thumb tracing the edge of her mouth, "one day, you'll have to choose."
She closed her eyes, her voice barely a whisper. "Don't make me."
He kissed her one last time, slow, deliberate, like a promise he knew he couldn't keep before stepping back again.
This time, he really did leave. She watched his figure fade into the hallway, her body still trembling, her heart caught somewhere between want and regret.
When she finally turned to the city again, the night looked different, wilder, darker, more dangerous. And as she stood there, her fingers brushing the railing where his hand had been, she knew one thing for certain:
If he came back again, she wouldn't stop him.
Not next time.
Not ever.