If it’s temporary.
If it blows up in my face later.
Because right now?
Right now I need him.
Need what he’s about to give me.
And I might actually come apart if he doesn’t.
Benji doesn’t tease.
Doesn’t play games.
Not like this.
When it comes to me?
He’s always been all in.
All heat.
All intent.
No hesitation.
And just like that—he moves.
No warning.
No slow build.
Just a sharp inhale ripping from my chest as sensation crashes over me, stealing the air from my lungs before I can stop it.
My back hits the cool tile, the contrast making everything sharper, brighter, more intense.
“Shh,” he murmurs, one hand firm at my hip, grounding me, holding me in place like he knows I’m about to lose it.
And I am.
God, I am.
Because the way he focuses on me—like nothing else exists, like this is the only thing that matters—it unravels me faster than anything else ever could.
My head tips back, my lips parting on a breath I barely manage to swallow down, my body reacting in ways I can’t control, don’t want to control.
I feel him everywhere.
The heat of him.
The intent.
The way he knows me.
Like no time has passed.
Like he never forgot a single thing.
