"You shouldn't have opened the door, Emily," he said as he closed it behind him, the soft click echoing louder than it should have in the quiet room. Before I could react, he pinned me against it with his rock-hard body, his lips crashing onto mine.
It wasn't rough, neither was it gentle. It felt needy, desperate, like he had been holding back for too long and I was the only thing he wanted now. It was consuming. I froze for a second, my hands hovering awkwardly between pushing him away and pulling him closer. His breath was warm against my skin, his scent invading my senses, making it harder to think straight.
I refused at first, turning my head slightly, my lips resisting his. But then I felt a sudden squeeze in my inner thighs, firm and intentional, pulling a gasp out of me. My mouth opened involuntarily, and that was all the invitation he needed. He deepened the kiss, taking his time as if he wanted to savour every second, every reaction I gave him.
My fingers pressed against his chest, trying to push him back, trying to catch my breath and free myself from him. But my body betrayed me. Other parts of me—parts I didn't want to acknowledge—loved this, craved this, wanted more of him. The warmth spreading through me wasn't just from his touch; it was something deeper, something dangerous.
My thoughts were a mess. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not like this. Not so fast.
At last, my legs gave up under the overwhelming pressure building inside me. I stumbled forward, crashing into his toned chest. A soft, breathless sound escaped me as he caught me easily, as though I weighed nothing. His arms wrapped around me with certainty, like he had done this a hundred times before.
Without breaking the connection between us, he lifted me up and carried me to the bed. My heart pounded wildly in my chest, loud enough that I was sure he could hear it. The room seemed smaller now, the air thicker, charged with something unspoken and undeniable.
He laid me down gently, but there was nothing gentle about the way his eyes darkened as he looked at me. Trails of his kisses followed—from my lips, down to the nape of my neck, lingering just enough to make me shiver, then lower to the swell of my breast. I let out a soft moan, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I tried to take in as much air as possible.
My fingers curled into the sheets beneath me, gripping tightly as if they could ground me, keep me from completely losing control.
His hands slid under my top, his touch warm and firm as he unhooked my bra with practiced ease, tossing it aside like it didn't matter. He nudged me slightly, silently asking me to raise my hands. I hesitated for a second, then obeyed, lifting them as he pulled my shirt off.
The air felt colder against my exposed skin, but his gaze burned hotter.
I looked into his eyes, really looked this time. They were different. Not calm and composed like I had always known them to be. Not controlled. This was something else entirely—darker, deeper, like a storm waiting to break. It frightened me.
And somehow, it also aroused me.
A sharp ache settled between my thighs, unfamiliar yet impossible to ignore. I shifted slightly, feeling the dampness soaking through my cotton panties, and heat rushed to my face. My body was reacting before my mind could catch up, before I could make sense of what was happening.
His eyes locked onto mine, searching, intense. His lips parted slowly, and when he spoke, his voice was low, husky, sending a shiver straight down my spine.
"Do you want this?"
The question hung between us, heavier than everything else that had already happened.
He was seeking my consent, even though it felt like it was already too late for that. I was half-naked on the bed, and he was hovering over me, shirtless, his body pressing into mine. I could feel him—his hardness against my lower belly, firm and undeniable, pulsating slightly. The sensation sent a wave of heat through me, making my stomach churn in a way I couldn't explain.
I nodded instinctively, my breath uneven.
But he wasn't satisfied.
"Words, Emily. I need words," he said, his gaze never leaving mine.
I hesitated.
For a brief moment, everything slowed down. The weight of what we were about to do settled in my chest. This wasn't just a moment. This wasn't just desire. This would change things—between us, within me. There was no pretending after this.
I swallowed hard, my mind racing.
I could stop this now.
I could push him away, get up, walk out, and pretend none of this ever happened. Pretend I didn't feel this pull toward him. Pretend my body wasn't already responding to his every touch.
But the truth was, I didn't want to stop.
"Fuck it," I whispered to myself, barely audible.
I can end this now.
But I won't.
"Yes… I want this," the words rolled off my tongue slowly, like I was testing them, like I could still take them back before they fully left me.
But I didn't.
Something shifted in his expression the moment I said it. Satisfaction, possession, something darker flickered through his eyes.
"There's no going back from this," he said quietly, his voice carrying a weight that made my chest tighten. "You'll belong to me and me alone. Your soul, your voice, and your body. All mine."
His words should have scared me more than they did.
Maybe they did.
But instead of pulling away, I stayed.
Instead of resisting, I let myself sink deeper into whatever this was.
His lips touched mine again, and just like before, it wasn't gentle. It was desperate, consuming, like he needed me in a way that went beyond reason. And this time, I didn't hold back.
At that moment, I let go of everything.
Every doubt.
Every fear.
Every consequence that might come after this.
I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer, giving in completely and fully without thinking about what would happen next. My mind went quiet, replaced by the rhythm of my heartbeat and the heat of his body against mine.
For once, I wasn't thinking about right or wrong.
I was just feeling.
And maybe that was my biggest mistake.
Or maybe… it was the beginning of something I would never be able to escape.