"So are you," I pant, grinding down on his thigh. "But I play to win."
He grabs my wrists and slams them above my head, pinning them to the mirror with one hand while the other explores, skimming over the silk of my dress. His rough palm cups my ass, hiking my leg higher as he pushes his thigh further between my legs, grinding against my soaked panties.
A low growl rumbles in his chest as his thumb hooks under the hem of my dress, tugging it up, higher and higher, until it bunches around my waist. The cool air hits my bare skin, a stark contrast to the burning heat of his touch.
His fingers dig into my bare ass, lifting me higher still, pressing my crotch firmly against his grinding thigh. He nips atmy jaw, then sucks a bruising mark into the sensitive skin just behind my ear. "You think you're so smart, don't you?" he rasps, his voice thick with a raw desire that matches my own. "Playing with fire."
My hips buck instinctively, pressing harder into him, trying to ease the unbearable ache he's building inside me. "And you love to burn." My nails dig into the muscles of his neck, desperate for an anchor in this swirling vortex of sensation.
He lets out a harsh laugh, a ragged sound of pure animalistic pleasure. His mouth attacks mine again, hotter, more demanding than before. He plunges his tongue deep, invading, conquering, tasting every inch of my desperation.
The kiss is a brutal, exquisite punishment, stripping away any last pretense of control. My body is on fire, every nerve ending screaming for more, for him to take what he’s so fiercely offering.
His free hand, still pinning my wrists above my head, releases them just long enough for me to wrap my arms around his neck again, my fingers tangling in his damp hair. His other hand drops from my ass, sliding down my exposed thigh, his calloused palm tracing the curve of my hip, then dipping lower.
He hooks a finger under the waistband of my panties, stretching the wet fabric taut, then slowly, agonizingly, begins to tug them down. My breath hitches. The thin silk slides over my skin, pooling around my knees, leaving me utterly exposed to his searing touch.
He breaks the kiss, pulling back just an inch, his eyes blazing, black pools of desire. His gaze drops to my exposed flesh, lingering, possessive. His fingers find me, pressing against the throbbing heat, a feather-light touch that sends a lightning bolt straight through me. I whimper, arching into his hand, desperate for more.
"You drive me fucking insane," he breathes, forehead pressed to mine. His eyes are wild, pupils blown wide, lips red from kissing me like a man possessed. "And I don't know whether to lock you up or keep letting you in."
I lean forward, barely brushing his mouth with mine. "Why not both?"
The elevator dings and the doors slide open with a cruel hiss of timing. He holds my stare for one blistering second longer, then lets me go.
I stumble as my feet touch the ground again, dress halfway off, lips swollen, body aching. He adjusts his jacket with precise, practiced control, the mask sliding back into place.
“Let’s go,” he says, voice raw but composed.
But I know what just happened.
And so does he.
The real problem?
We’re past pretending now.
CHAPTER 18
RAFE
Ishould’ve stopped her.
The moment she leaned in outside the hotel, pressed that soft, strategic kiss to my jaw in front of the cameras, I should’ve shut it all down. Called off the entire Milan operation. Sent her back to the villa, burned the footage, disappeared into the dark like I always do.
But I didn’t.
I let her have that moment. I let the headlines happen. And then I made it worse.
I followed her into the elevator and gave her something that wasn’t part of the plan. Something raw and unfiltered.
I kissed her like I meant it because I did.
It wasn’t for the cameras. That kiss was real. And now it’s in my blood, buzzing like a live wire, burning like a fuse I can’t snuff out.
I should be focused on logistics, on surveillance, on the dozens of ways this operation could spiral out of control. But all I can think about is her mouth, her body pressed against mine, and the fact that I didn't stop it because I didn’t want to.
We stepped into the suite less than a minute ago. The elevator ride is still humming in my blood, her breath, hermoans, every impossible second I held back. We barely made it here without combusting.
