Her breath hitched. I saw it—the way her chest rose sharply, the way her pupils dilated slightly, the way her grip tightened on the glass.
"Romelo..." she said, her voice a warning and an invitation all at once.
"What?" I asked innocently, like I didn't know exactly what I was doing.
"You can't just say shit like that."
"Why not? It's true."
She set the glass down on the counter with more force than necessary, the sound echoing in the quiet kitchen. "Because it makes me want things I shouldn't want."
"Like what?"
She looked away, her jaw clenching. "Like you."
There it was. The admission I'd been waiting for.
I pushed off the counter and closed the distance between us in two strides. My hands found her waist, pulling her flush against me. She gasped, her hands instinctively coming up to press against my chest—not pushing me away, just... holding on.
"Say it again," I demanded, my voice low and rough.
"Romelo—"
"Say it," I repeated, my grip on her waist tightening. "Tell me you want me."
Her eyes searched mine, conflicted and wanting and scared all at once.
"I want you," she whispered, so quietly I almost didn't hear it.
"Louder."
"I want you," she said again, her voice stronger this time.
"Good girl," I murmured, leaning down to capture her lips with mine.
The kiss started slow—tentative, exploratory, like we were both testing the waters. But it didn't stay that way for long.
Within seconds, it turned hungry. Desperate. My hands slid from her waist to her ass, gripping hard, lifting her slightly so she was perched on the edge of the island.
She moaned into my mouth, her legs parting instinctively to make room for me to step between them. Her hands fisted in my shirt, pulling me closer, like she couldn't get enough.
I broke the kiss to trail my lips down her jaw, her neck, her collarbone—tasting the salt of her skin, feeling her pulse racing beneath my mouth.
"Romelo," she gasped, her head falling back to give me better access. "We shouldn't?—"
"We should," I corrected, my hands sliding under the hem of her crop top, my palms flattening against the warm, soft skin of her stomach. "We've been dancing around this shit for too long."
"But—"
I silenced her with another kiss, this one deeper, more demanding. My tongue swept into her mouth, claiming her, showing her exactly what I wanted to do to every other part of her body.
She melted into me, her protests dying on her lips as her body took over—arching into my touch, grinding against me, seeking friction.
I pulled her crop top over her head in one smooth motion, tossing it somewhere behind me. I didn't care where it landed.
She wasn't wearing a bra.
Her breasts were full and heavy, her nipples already hard from arousal. I groaned at the sight, my dick straining painfully against my joggers.
