The room was dark, the only light coming from the sliver of moonlight filtering through the curtains. He had been lying there for what felt like an eternity, his mind racing, trying to ignore the way his body was still acutely aware of her presence beside him. She had fallen asleep, or so he thought, her breathing steady and slow in the stillness of the night.
He could feel the warmth of her body beside him, the soft, rhythmic rise and fall of her chest as she slept. It was soothing, in a way, and for a moment, he almost convinced himself to let go, to relax, to believe that everything had returned to normal.
But then he felt it. A soft brush of something against his skin—a whisper of warmth, a slight shift in the bed. It was as if she had moved just a fraction, but it was enough to make his heart race.
He didn’t know why he was still awake. He should have been asleep by now, should have been able to block out the tension that had built between them over the last few hours. But it was there, still hanging in the air, thick and unrelenting. Every time he closed his eyes, he could feel her presence, feel her gaze even though she wasn’t looking at him.
And then, without warning, he felt it. A soft press of lips against his neck, delicate but insistent. His body stiffened, his breath catching in his throat as he realized that she was awake after all. She wasn’t asleep. Not at all.
His heart began to thud in his chest, the sound almost deafening in the quiet room. She wasn’t just sleeping—she was teasing him, testing him, pushing him to the edge with each gentle kiss she placed against his skin. He could feel her lips, soft and warm, moving ever so slightly as they traced the line of his neck.
“Did you think I was asleep?” Her voice was soft, barely more than a whisper, but it was enough to send a jolt through him.
He couldn’t answer immediately. His mouth felt dry, and his body was betraying him, every nerve on fire from her proximity, from the way her lips moved over him. She hadn’t even said anything overt, but the intimacy of the moment—the quiet, the closeness, the way she was so intimately aware of him—was enough to make him tremble.
He wanted to pull away, wanted to say something, but his body refused to cooperate. Every inch of him was drawn to her, even as his mind screamed at him to stop, to put some distance between them. She had always been so controlled, so composed, but now she was making him feel vulnerable, exposed.
“I didn’t want to wake you,” she whispered, her lips lingering against his skin. There was something in her voice—something teasing, something daring—that made him shiver.
“You didn’t,” he finally managed to say, his voice hoarse, betraying how much she was affecting him. “But now… what are you doing?”
She didn’t answer. Instead, her lips moved lower, kissing the sensitive skin just below his ear, sending a wave of heat rushing through him. He could feel the pulse of desire beginning to rise within him, a slow burn that was becoming harder and harder to ignore.
“I couldn’t help myself,” she murmured, her breath warm against his skin. Her fingers, light and deft, moved over his chest, and he felt the heat of her touch even through the fabric of his shirt.
For a moment, he forgot everything. He forgot about the boundaries they had set, forgot about the distance that had always existed between them. There was only the feeling of her lips on his skin, the warmth of her body against his, and the undeniable pull that had been growing between them all night.
He wasn’t sure if he should stop her, if he even wanted to, but in that moment, he couldn’t move. He couldn’t say a word. He just lay there, his mind racing, as she kissed him, her lips moving with increasing confidence, pressing against him in a way that left him breathless.
It wasn’t just the kiss. It was everything. It was the way she had stayed so still, so quiet, as if she were waiting for him to acknowledge her, to accept what she was offering. And now that he had—now that she knew he wasn’t going anywhere—it felt like the beginning of something new, something dangerous, something neither of them could walk away from.
Her lips moved once more, this time finding his, and for the first time that night, he kissed her back.