And that’s all it takes. A sliver of skin, one exposed curve, and my darkness snaps to attention like it’s been waiting—watching—just for this.
The temptation is too much.
She doesn’t notice. She’s still focused on the phone, lifting it slightly higher.
But I’m not looking at the screen, I’m staring at that exposed strip of skin like it’s the only thing in the world.
My grip tightens at her waist, and I lean in.
Her heat engulfs me as my face lowers, inhaling her scent, mouthsoclose… Slowly, I brush my lips against her shoulder.
She stiffens, just for a second, maybe she thinks it’s an accident. We are close, so close.
So I do it again.
Soft, small brushes of my lips that bring me closer to madness with every sweep.
Her arm lowers, but I won’t let her pull away. My hold on her waist is secure, concrete, and my mouth trails slower, closer, along the curve of her neck, over her thumping pulse. Tasting her with soft touches, the barest swipe of my tongue, a nudge of teeth.
“Kane…” she breathes, hinging on a tremble.
And I want more.
Our faces are so close now that I see every fleck of colour in her eyes. The light. The dark. The heat.
Her breath catches, lips parting like she’s about to say something, like she should. But doesn’t—can’t.
I let my mouth hover a fraction from hers, just close enough for her to feel it, close enough that every ounce of me aches.
My darkness is coiled so tightly. Waiting. Wanting.Yearning.
“Smile, Jasmine,” I murmur, brushing my lips over the corner of her mouth. “You’re making me look bad.”
She lets out a shaky laugh, and I have to close my eyes, compose myself. Everything is so soft, so sweet, so warm, and she’s so utterly unaware of it. Of what she’sdoing to me by merely existing.
When she lifts the phone again, I move in. Not to kiss her, just to let my lips graze her jaw.
Once. Twice. Again. Right at the curve where her throat meets.
My fingers trace careful, lazy patterns over her waist, edging onto her stomach. Every touch is slow and possessive.
The phone shakes in her hand. “Kane,” she breathes again, lower, deeper.
My mouth stills against her throat, my jaw clenched.
Every time she says my name, it’s like the very first time. A sinful prayer. An alluring trigger.
“Keep taking them,” I murmur, my voice rougher, darker. My lips brush the shell of her ear. “You can do it.”
She shivers. The darkness in me rises because it wants to answer that call. It wants more.
Wants her to tremble.
And I give in, just a little, pressing another light kiss to the corner of her mouth. Enough to steal her breath. Enough for the briefest taste of what I want.
And it nearly undoes me.
I pull back, I have to. But that too was a mistake because now I see her face in full, up-close. She’s flushed, eyes glittering like garnet jewels, lips parted, staring at me like she’s hungry.
