Every curve.
Every soft inch of her.
She shifts slightly under my stare, suddenly shy.
And that somehow makes her even more stunning.
“You wear this for me, Love?”I ask quietly.
Because I need to know.
Because the thought that she did might just finish me off right here.
Her lips part like she’s about to answer.
And I step closer, reaching out to trace the edge of that delicate lace along her hip.
My heart is pounding now.
Slow.
Heavy.
The kind of moment where everything feels like it’s balancing right on the edge of something big.
Something real.
And the way she’s looking at me—nervous, excited, breathless all at once—makes something tighten deep in my chest.
Because this never was a casual one-night fling for me—and whether or not she says it out loud I know it’s not for her either.
Not even close.
I lean down, brushing a kiss against the curve of her shoulder.
“Christ, Chiara,” I murmur softly.“You’ve got no idea what you do to me.”
My hands slide to her waist, drawing her a little closer.
And the tension between us builds again—slow and electric—like the beginning of a storm that’s been waiting months to break.
Right here.
Right now.
Chapter8
Chiara
Noah’s lipsare unbelievably tender as he trails kisses down my body, removing pieces of clothing as he goes.
Each touch is slow.Intentional.
Like he’s memorizing me.
The dress gets pulled away, and he tosses it somewhere on the floor.But I’m far too distracted to care about that.
He notices my pale blue panties and cami—something I absolutely bought with him in mind—and oh yeah, he likes them.
