The door clicked shut behind us, muffling the world again.
Her room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of a lamp on the dresser. The curtains stirred gently with the breeze through the cracked window, carrying the faint scent of autumn air and her vanilla lotion. The bed was still slightly rumpled from the morning, an invitation that punched me right in the chest.
Selene turned to face me, her chest rising and falling fast. Her hands slid up my chest, fingers curling in the fabric of my shirt as if she couldn’t decide whether to push me away or pull me closer.
She pulled.
I caught her face in my hands, my thumbs brushing her flushed cheeks as I kissed her—slower this time, but no less hungry. Her body melted into mine, the heat of her seeping through my clothes like a brand.
She felt unbearably good.
Her hands slipped under my shirt, palms skating over my ribs and my stomach. I shuddered at the contrast of her soft fingers against my heated skin.
“Selene ...” My voice was rough, too loud in the quiet room. I kissed her again to swallow it down, moving us backward until her knees hit the edge of the bed.
She sank onto it with an exhale, her legs parting slightly as her hands fisted in my shirt, tugging me down to her.
“Wait,” I murmured, breaking the kiss just enough to search her eyes. “We don’t have to?—”
“I said don’t stop,” she whispered again. The plea in her voice was soft, but it cracked something open in me.
I kissed her harder, my hands sliding into her hair as she gasped against my mouth. Her thighs tightened around my hips, anchoring me there like she didn’t plan on letting go.
Outside the door, the house creaked faintly, and my gut tensed with the awareness of a child sleeping down the hall.
We both froze for a heartbeat.
Then Selene’s lips curved faintly against mine, her fingers tugging me down until our foreheads touched.
“We’ll be quiet,” she whispered.
The words lit a fire low in my stomach.
My voice went low and thick as my hands trailed down to her hips, pinning her to the mattress. “Then you better not let me hear a sound then,” I murmured back.
Her answering smile was wicked. Her fingers curled in my shirt, tugging me down until our mouths found each other again. The kiss was slower this time but no less urgent—like we were both trying to memorize the shape of this want.
The quiet of the house pressed in on us, amplifying every sound. The rustle of the sheets as she shifted beneath me. The faint catch of her breath against my lips. The creak of the headboard when my knee brushed the mattress.
We both stilled at that, a silent agreement passing between us.
Be quiet.
Selene’s lips curved faintly, her hands sliding up to frame my face. “You’re heavy,” she teased in the faintest whisper, though her eyes said the opposite—stay.
I shifted slightly to ease my weight off her, my forearms braced on either side of her head. My thumbs brushed her jaw, tracing the delicate line of her throat as I bent to kiss her again, softer this time.
“I’ll always be careful with you,” I murmured against her mouth.
Her hands skimmed down my chest, fingers slipping beneath the hem of my shirt. Her touch burned as she pushed it higher, higher, until I sat back on my heels just long enough to peel it over my head and toss it aside.
Her eyes swept over me in the low light, something raw flickering there. Not lust—not only lust.
Want.
Need.
Maybe even fear.
