I couldn’t.
My heart thundered against my ribs as he carried me down the dim hallway, the rhythm of his footsteps steady and sure. The chill of rain faded beneath the heat of his body, each step wrapping me tighter in warmth I hadn’t realized I was craving.
I buried my face in his neck, inhaling the scent that was so him—cedar, smoke, and something darker. Something that made my stomach twist and my breath catch.
Something that made me want.
He pushed open the door to his bedroom.
Black silk sheets shimmered beneath the soft glow of the light, catching like ink beneath candlelight. The sight of them—dark, luxurious, utterly him—sent a thrill through me.
Before I could take another breath, he shut the door behind us and crossed the room in three silent strides.
Then he laid me down.
Gentle. Possessive.
Like I was something fragile. Or something his.
The moment my back touched the sheets, a rush of heat coiled low in my belly. The contrast of cool air on damp skin and his burning presence above me made me shiver.
He hovered, eyes locked on mine, like he was asking something without saying a word.
Like he was giving me one last chance to walk away.
“Seph,” he said, my name rough in his throat, and the way he said it—like it meant something sacred—undid me.
I reached for him.
And he came down like gravity.
His mouth found mine—soft at first, coaxing, savoring—but it deepened quickly, turning wild and hungry and right. His hands roamed carefully at first, fingers mapping my skin like a territory he wasn’t sure he was allowed to claim yet.
But I gave him permission with every gasp. Every touch. Every time I pulled him closer.
When his lips left mine to trail down my jaw, my breath caught. He moved with purpose—across my throat, down to my collarbone—each kiss leaving behind a trail of fire that curled deeper beneath my skin.
My hands tangled in his hair, anchoring myself to him as he explored lower, lips brushing over the swell of my breast. He paused there, his breath hot and trembling against me.
He looked up.
And fuck, the look in his eyes.
It was raw. Wild. Not just want—but something deeper. Like he wasn’t just touching my body. Like he was marking a moment he’d never forget.
A soft sound escaped me—a broken exhale of need.
“God,” I breathed.
And then I arched into him, desperate for more. For all of him. For everything we’d held back until now.
Because this wasn’t just a kiss.
Wasn’t just heat.
It was reverence.
A slow, deliberate burn.
