Like she knew exactly what she was asking for.
I should knock.
The thought came unbidden, immediate, dangerous as hell.
Turn around. Go back in. Stop pretending this was about protecting her when really it was about me being too much of a coward to take what she was freely offering.
Finish what we'd started on that sofa before my brain had kicked back in and reminded me of all the reasons why this was a terrible idea.
My hand actually moved toward the door before I caught myself, fingers almost brushing wood.
Jesus Christ.
Get a grip, Black.
You're better than this.
I closed my eyes, trying to clear my head, trying to focus on literally anything except the want clawing at my chest like a living thing.
But that just made it worse.
Because all I could see was her.
Ella underneath me, blonde hair spread across white sheets like a halo, eyes wide and dark and focused entirely on me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered. That careful composure finally, completely shattered into something raw and honest and vulnerable. Lips parted. Breathing hard. Saying myname like a prayer or a curse, I didn't care which as long as she kept saying it.
Or better—even better?—
Ella on top of me.
That image hit harder than the first, more vivid, more visceral, more immediatelyreal.
Her straddling my hips, thighs bracketing my body, soft skin against harder muscle. Hands braced on my chest for balance as she found her rhythm, fingers splayed wide, nails digging in slightly when something felt particularly good. Moonlight from the window painting her skin silver and shadow, highlighting curves, casting moving shadows that danced with her. Starting slow, tentative, testing what worked, learning what made me grip her hips harder or groan her name.
Then faster as confidence built and pleasure took over rational thought.
Head tilted back, throat exposed and vulnerable, completely lost in sensation, inus.
Taking what she wanted without apology.
Takingmewithout hesitation.
Using me for her pleasure like she had every right to, like my body belonged to her in that moment.
And God, I'd let her.
Fuck.
My cock went hard so fast it actually hurt, straining against my jeans uncomfortably, demanding attention I couldn't give it here in a public hallway.
I pressed my palm flat against her door, breathing through the want that was threatening to override every rational thought I had left, every reason I'd built for why this was wrong.
I could go back in.
Right now.
Right this second.
She'd asked me to stay. Been completely clear about it. No games. No pretense. No plausible deniability or room for misunderstanding.
