His gaze holds mine. Steady. Unflinching.
“I cared enough to memorize it.”
The room suddenly feels too small. Too intimate. The air presses in around us, thick with things neither of us is ready to name.
He lifts his hand slowly, giving me time to pull away. I don’t. His fingers brush a loose strand of hair behind my ear—not possessive, not demanding. Just careful. Just human.
“I saw her in your words,” he says softly. “The way you dissect art. The way you refuse sentimentality. That wasn’t cruelty, Sienna. That was love taught with discipline.”
My throat tightens. I hate that he understands this part of me. Hate it almost as much as I crave being seen.
“I hate myself,” he says, voice rough, stripped bare. “For how stupid I was. For how immature. I’ll do anything for you to forgive me.”
The words hit something fragile in me. Something already cracked.
Before I can stop myself, before I can think, my resolve fractures.
I kiss him.
Not out of anger. Not out of revenge.
But because I want to.
Because my body remembers his.
Because for one dangerous second, I want to be seen without armor.
His breath hitches against my mouth. Then his hands are on me—sure, urgent, reverent all at once—as if he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go. He lifts me easily, like I weigh nothing, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.
“Don’t,” I whisper, even as I cling to him.
“I can’t,” he murmurs back, kissing me again.
He carries me out of the studio, through the quiet halls, into the elevator, back toward the suite. We don’t speak. We don’t need to. His mouth finds mine between steps, my fingers knotting into his hair, my pulse roaring in my ears.
The door closes behind us with a soft, final sound, locking the rest of reality away.
He lays me gently on the bed, but the gentleness is deceptive. His hands roam my body, moving with a practiced efficiency as he disarms and undresses me, stripping away mylayers until I am nothing but skin and nerves. His mouth follows the path of his hands, leaving a trail of fire that makes me shiver despite the heat.
He hovers over me for a heartbeat, his eyes dark with a hunger that feels predatory. Then, he leans down.
His mouth finds the peak of my breast, and he draws the bud deep into his mouth. I gasp, my back arching off the mattress as the sudden, intense pull sends a jolt straight to my core. He isn’t timid; he uses his tongue to swirl around the sensitive tip before suctioning harder, pulling a soft moan from my throat.
He teases me with the edge of his teeth, a sharp nip that borders on pain before his tongue licks the spot to soothe it. The contrast is maddening. I can feel the damp heat of his breath against my skin, and the pressure of his mouth makes my head spin. My hands fly to his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin as I try to pull him closer, desperate for the weight of him to crush the breath out of me.
He continues to feast on me, his hand sliding up to cup the other breast, kneading the flesh as he stays focused on the task of breaking my resolve. Every pull of his lips feels like he’s claiming a piece of me, marking me as his in the dark, quiet room.
He doesn’t stay at my chest for long, though the ache he leaves behind is a constant throb. His mouth begins a slow, torturous descent, his lips grazing my ribs as he moves lower. He pauses at the dip of my waist, his teeth nipping at the soft skin there, making my breath hitch in a jagged sob.
His hands slide down to my hips, his fingers digging in with a possessive grip that anchors me to the bed. He’s taking his time, savoring the way I tremble under his touch.
When he reaches the flat of my stomach, he lingers, his tongue tracing a hot, wet line toward the waistband of my laceunderwear. He hooks his thumbs into the silk and pulls it down, baring me completely to the cool air and his burning gaze.
He nudges my knees apart, and I don’t fight him. I can’t.
He leans down, his breath ghosting over the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. I feel his tongue strike first—a long, slow lick that makes my entire body jerk. He moves higher, finding the heart of my heat, and lets out a low, dark sound of approval.
Then his mouth closes over me.
