"Layla..." His voice no longer sounded human—more like a wolf's low growl.
"I'm here," I said, my fingers trailing lower, exploring every ridge of his body. "Kayden, I'm right here."
"You know you're playing with fire?" He snapped his eyes open, seizing my wandering hand. I could tell he was teetering on the brink.
"Then burn me."
Kayden's final shred of restraint crumbled. With a deep growl, he scooped me up in his arms bridal-style and bundled me into his own car.
Slam—
The door shut with force, the confined space instantly thick with our mingled scents, hormones hanging heavy like a fog on the verge of condensing into droplets.
"Layla." Kayden gripped my shoulders, his voice raw and hoarse. "One last time."
"Are you sure?" His eyes bored into mine, desire swirling wildly within them.
I raised my hand, fingers tracing his face—the one I'd secretly loved for ten years, yearned for over seven.
The contours were still so sharp, the jawline perfect, but now there were fine lines at the corners of his eyes, fatigue etched between his brows.
He hadn't been doing well.
That thought sent a wave of sour ache through my chest.
"I'm sure," I heard myself say.
No, it had to be the drugs...
But I couldn't tell the difference anymore.
Was the heat from the drugs, or from his proximity setting my body aflame? Was this my true desire, or just a physiological reaction?
Screw it. Don't analyze it.
Just this once. Let me... indulge again.
Kayden's throat worked visibly, his fingers digging into my shoulders with enough force to leave bruises.
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, then surged forward, his mouth claiming mine in a fierce kiss. No hesitation, no gentleness—just raw plunder, total invasion, the explosive release of long-suppressed need.
His tongue pried my lips apart, plunging in deep, stealing every breath. I tasted the faint bitterness of whiskey on him—sharp, yet utterly addictive.
My hands slid up to his neck, fingers weaving into his hair, the strands slipping like silk between them.
He deepened the kiss, as if trying to consume me entirely. I could barely breathe, my lungs starved for air, stars exploding behind my eyelids.
But I didn't want to push him away. Not even a little.
Instead, I clung tighter, as if to fuse him into my very being. This embrace—warm, solid, infused with his familiar scent—I remembered it all too well.
Seven years ago, under the moonlight, I'd trembled in these arms, melted in them. And now... I was back.
A long-forgotten sense of safety enveloped me. Not the drug-induced haze, but something real, bone-deep—like a ship lost at sea finally finding harbor, or a runner in a storm discovering shelter at last.
Tears welled up again, whether from the delayed fear or simply his presence.
Maybe both.
