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I unwrapped the scarf and opened the blouse. Her bruise had turned slightly purple.

“Does it hurt?” I asked, softly running my finger along it.

“A little.”

“Do you want me to kiss it better?”

“Yes.”

I kissed her throat, and my heart strangely hurt.

“Ash.”

“Ssh. If you scream now, you won’t get to enjoy me,” I said, moving my lips lower.

I pressed my right palm between her lips. She bit back a groan when I slightly bit on her nipple.

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath. “I can’t… be quiet. Fuck, stop. Ash…”

“Already? I haven’t even started.” I pushed my hand between her thighs, feeling how heated she was. She rubbed herself against me, moaning as she did.

“Later. Later. I can’t… We have a group session. I need to…”

“I love the way you look right now, Little Poison. Utterly unhinged and desperate for more.”

She pulled back from me, panting.

“We have things to do.”

“Your eyes tell me you need more,” I said, teasing the lock of hair curling down her neck, and she let out a soft mewl, leaning closer to me and my heart felt… fucking weird.

I cupped her face, brushing my thumb over her cheek, my eyes watching her every reaction.

This wasn’t the stoic, utterly unmovable Diya Sharma.

Her eyes burned golden as her lips parted.

I leaned in and pressed my lips to hers again, wanting more, knowing that it would be impossible to stop after what I had started.

Soft… softer… slow… slower. Almost torturously so.

This time, there was no desperation in the kiss. Only the knowledge that I could kiss her whenever I wanted.

Like I have all the time in the world.

But I did NOT, did I?

I didn’t care. I’d take every moment I was given until I couldn’t.

When we finally pulled back, she looked bewildered as if she didn’t understand what just happened.

I was just as bewildered.

It wasn’t hunger. It wasn’t lust. It wasn’t the desperate need to break each other, or a fight to show who had more control.

It was… something I couldn’t name.

Something that made my breath snag, my skin burn.